“Do you think I’m crazy for keeping this baby?” I whispered to my reflection in the mirror, my palms pressing gently against the small curve of my stomach. My voice trembled, carried away by the faint hum of the bathroom fan. The fluorescent bulb above flickered, casting uncertain light across my tired face.

“Everyone keeps saying there’s still time to… to get rid of it.” My throat tightened around the words. “But I can’t. I won’t.”

The woman staring back at me didn’t ...