Splitting Fever Meds I Aborted, Left Him Penniless

For three years of marriage, Jackson James and I had always gone Dutch.

Even for a roll of toilet paper, we split the cost down the middle, and he'd always frown and say:

I'm helping you stay independent. A woman shouldn't lose herself just because she's married.

Then he found out I was pregnant, and out of nowhere he went and booked a $30,000 postpartum care retreat.

"Don't worry about the money. The only thing that matters is delivering the baby safely."

In that moment, I thought he'd finally learned how to care about someone.

On the way home, he got out of the car to smoke, but forgot to disconnect the car's Bluetooth.

"Mom, don't worry. How could I let her take advantage of our family?"

When the call connected, his voice was smug. "I got the money by running it through her health insurance card, plus the nutrition money her mother gave."

"Once Margot moves in, she'll get six meals a day there. I'll eat there and take some home every day, and we'll save on our own grocery bill too."

I sat in the car, my hand pressed to my belly, feeling like I'd dropped into an ice cellar.

I thought, if the baby could choose, it surely wouldn't want to come into a home like this.

...

Jackson's mother's voice came through the Bluetooth speaker.

"That's my boyyou really know how to run a household, know better than to let the good water flow to someone else's field."

"Pack a little extra to bring back later, so your dad and I can have a taste too."

Then Margot spoke up, sounding wounded.

"Big brother, your wife is so lucky, getting to stay at a postpartum retreat while she's pregnant."

"I'm five months along, and that broke loser I married doesn't care about me at all."

"Boo-hoo."

Margot's aggrieved sobbing came down the line.

Hearing his little sister cry, Jackson was suddenly heartbroken over her.

"I told you back then not to be with him. I wanted you to do like me and find someone from a well-off family, but no, you had to marry someone you liked! See where it got you!"

"All right, all right, stop crying. Your wife's parents gave a hundred thousand in childcare money, and I'll take fifty thousand and book you an even better postpartum retreat."

Margot's tears turned to laughter at once.

"I knew my brother loved me best."

Hearing that, I couldn't hold back the urge any longer and got straight out of the car.

The instant his eyes met mine.

Jackson's face went panicked and he fumbled to hang up the phone.

But that flash of guilt lasted all of two seconds before he knit his brow out of pure habit.

"How did you get out of the car without making a sound? Sneaking around behind people, eavesdropping on their conversationsdo you have any manners at all?"

I stared at him, my stomach churning.

"What? You want to use the money my parents gave for the baby to book a postpartum retreat for your sister, but I'm not allowed to hear about it?"

Jackson threw his cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his foot.

"What do you mean, 'your money'?"

"That's marital property. It belongs to both of us."

"Your parents said it plainlythe money is for their granddaughter."

"I'm the baby's father, so why can't I touch it?"

"Don't forget, the baby in Margot's belly is a James family child too. She's in trouble right now, and as her big brother I can't just ignore her."

I clenched my fists and tried to keep my voice level.

"Where's her husband?"

"Samuel doesn't make much, and you know it."

"So because her husband earns less, she gets to spend my money?"

In that instant, a chill ran through my whole body.

In my memory, when I first met Jackson, he didn't wear this sickening face.

Back then we were both running our advisor's project together, and I knew he had a crush on me, though I never called it out.

Later, when my father had a sudden stroke and was hospitalized, he quietly took on all of my work without a word.

When the project wrapped and the bonuses came in, he flat-out insisted on giving me half.

"You did most of the early work. I only stepped in temporarily. I could never take advantage of you."

It was that solid decencynot grabbing credit, not taking advantagethat made me let my guard down and start to like him.

Before we married, he was the one who proposed we split everything after the wedding.

"You're more capable than me, and your family has more money than mine. I don't want to trap you with family and money."

"Marriage should let two people grow together and be freer."

Back then my mother was full of worry: "When a couple keeps such careful accounts, life turns cold pretty fast."

And I foolishly defended him: "Mom, it's called respecting each other's independence."

I used to think that the most reliable kind of love was a man who didn't take advantage of his wife and knew how to respect her independent space.

It wasn't until today that I finally woke up to just how badly I'd been wrong.

All that so-called "respect" went sour after we married.

On finances he insisted on splitting every penny down to the last cent, but the housework naturally fell entirely on me.

He paid the down payment on our marital home, then asked me to put up $300,000 for the renovations.

"I bought the house, so you handle the renovations. That's only fair."

Yet from start to finish, only his name was ever on the deed.

The most ridiculous thing was last month, when I had a fever that wouldn't break and bought a twenty-dollar box of fever reducers.

That very night, Jackson sent me a payment code.

"You're the one who's sick, so by rights the cost of the medicine is on you."

"But I feel bad for you, so I'll cover half the medicine. Just send me ten dollars."

Looking back on it now, I only feel wave after wave of disgust and bitter irony.

What kind of independent woman was I? I was plainly boiled little by little like a frog in slowly warming water, trained into a free nanny who paid out of her own pocket.

In his eyes, our marriage was never a union of feelingsit was a transaction where he was guaranteed to come out ahead.

I looked at him coldly. "Jackson, listen to yourself. Is that even something a human being would say?"

Jackson James didn't notice the change in my expression at all.

He pulled out his phone, casually opened the calculator, and started tallying it all up, dead serious.

"Don't make it sound so ugly the second money comes up. Settling the accounts clearly is how you keep feelings from getting hurt."

"Your maternity benefit should come to eighty-four thousand, three years of childcare subsidy is ten thousand eight hundred, plus the hundred thousand from your parents."

"That's a hundred and ninety-four thousand eight hundred total."

"The baby belongs to both of us, so of course I'm entitled to half, which is ninety-seven thousand four hundred."

"I'll put fifty thousand toward helping Margot, and spend thirty thousand booking a postpartum care retreat for you."

"Even if I cover it all, you still owe me seventeen thousand four hundred."

He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, completely at ease.

I stared at that string of numbers, unable to say a word for a long moment.

Jackson actually thought he'd laid it all out clearly for me, and his tone softened a little.

"I'm not even asking you to transfer it right away. That's me being considerate enough already, so don't make such a big deal out of it."

I shoved away the phone he was holding out to me.

"So I'm the one who gets pregnant, your family doesn't pay a single cent, my family has to book the postpartum care retreat for your sister, and then I owe you seventeen thousand four hundred?"

Jackson's face darkened.

"Could you have a baby on your own, without me?"

"This was marital property to begin with. You married me, so you're a member of the James family."

"I'm taking a hit here instead of nickel-and-diming you over every detail, so what have you got to be angry about?"

In that moment, all I felt was disgust.

The face in front of me suddenly seemed utterly unfamiliar.

He gave no thought at all to the enormous toll childbirth takes on a woman's body.

All he knew how to do was calculate how to get more for himself.

I fought back the nausea and pointed at his briefcase on the passenger seat.

"Take your bag."

He froze.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Take your things and get the hell out of my car!"

Jackson was stunned by my shouting, and started stamping around, beside himself.

"Jessica Swanson, what's gotten into you? Over fifty thousand? Is it really worth it!"

I forced down the cramping in my stomach and spoke with finality.

"It is worth it! Not one cent of the money my parents gave for the baby gets touched."

"And the money for the postpartum retreat has to be refunded, right back where it came from."

He gave a cold snort, looking at me like I was some raving lunatic beyond reason.

"Don't forget, you're already pregnant, a married woman!"

"Take a good look at yourself. You still think you're some young girl?"

He slammed the car door hard.

I hit the gas and pulled straight out.

The car came to a stop on an empty lot by the river, my hands shaking uncontrollably.

I picked up my phone, meaning to make a video call to my mom.

The moment I switched to my messages, the very first thing in my social media feed was a new post from Margot.

She'd put up a close-up shot of the gold card from a high-end postpartum care retreat.

The caption read: Thanks to the best brother in the whole world. Turns out a woman really can only count on her own family.

Under it was a comment from Brenda: That's my boy, making something of himself.

Looking at that post, I was so angry I almost laughed.

Offhand, I tapped the like button in the bottom right corner.

Less than ten seconds later, the post vanished into thin air.

Right after that, Jackson's calls came bombarding in.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I told you the fifty thousand didn't come out of the baby's money!"

"Margot puts up one post and you just have to like it to embarrass her?"

"Why aren't you talking? Big enough to hit like, but not big enough to open your mouth, huh?"

"I can't stand this thing you do, bottling everything up and deliberately giving people attitude!"

I didn't say a single word. I just hung up and blocked the number.

Leaning against the steering wheel, I couldn't hold back the tears.

Three years of marriage, and for what he called fairness, I'd poured in everything I had.

Now the baby wasn't even born yet, and he'd already set his sights on my maternity benefit.

I opened the browser on my phone.

In the search box, I typed a few words.

How to terminate a pregnancy.

The next morning, I booked an appointment straight at the city women's and children's hospital.

It was also where Margot usually went for her prenatal checkups.

I didn't know why I felt I had to come here.

Maybe, deep down, I just wanted to see with my own eyes exactly how deep this brother-and-sister bond of theirs could go.

When the ultrasound was done, the doctor frowned at the screen.

"The placenta is very low-lying, and there's blood pooling near the cervix."

"I'd recommend hospitalization for observation first, and then you can think it over."

I walked down the corridor of the maternity building with the paperwork in my hand.

And sure enough, right as I reached the blood-draw area, I ran into them.

Margot covered her mouth and gave a dry heave.

Jackson immediately crouched down in front of her, anxious.

"Where does it hurt? I'll go get a doctor."

He was sweating buckets, running back and forth at the nurses' station.

I stood a little way off, watching him pull a payment slip out of his pocket.

A gust of wind lifted the corner of the slip.

I saw the number on it clearly: eight thousand dollars.

I walked over with my admission form in hand and called his name.

He whipped around and scrambled to shove the payment slip back into his pocket.

"What are you doing here?" His brow furrowed at once.

I held out the admission form for the three-thousand deposit.

"The doctor says I need to be admitted right now. The deposit is three thousand, and by our rules you pay half."

"What's gotten into you now?" Jackson didn't even glance at the form.

"I told you to go to the gym more and you complained it was too tiring. Now your body's run-down and something's gone wrongthat's your own personal problem."

"Why should I split some unnecessary expense like this with you?"

Beside him, Margot made a show of digging through her bag.

"I'll lend it to you, then. Don't be mad at my brother over a little money like this."

Jackson clamped a hand over her bag.

"Keep your money to build yourself back up. Don't mind hershe's just had life too easy and came here to make a scene for no reason!"

I stared into his eyes.

"Margot gets to spend eight thousand, but I ask you for fifteen hundred and I'm being unreasonable?"

"Is it even the same thing?" Jackson said, self-righteous.

"Margot is my sister. She's in trouble, so I'm helping her out of an emergency. Your problem is that you didn't manage your own health properly, so you bear the consequences yourself."

He grabbed the wheelchair and shoved right past me.

My lower back slammed hard against the armrest of the bench beside me, and I dropped straight to the floor.

A dragging pain shot through my lower belly.

A nurse passing by hurried over to help me.

"What is wrong with you, shoving a pregnant woman?" the nurse shouted at him.

Jackson didn't even turn his head.

"She threw herself back on purpose. Don't let her fool you."

"She's not happy unless she's putting on an act."

Margot leaned back in the wheelchair and pressed him.

"Come on, I'm dizzy, let's just go."

And just like that, he pushed her off and disappeared around the bend in the corridor.

The nurse helped me up and asked, concerned, "Are you all right? Come lie down in a room first."

I shook my head and pulled my hand free from hers.

In that moment, I made my choice.

The pain in my body was nothing next to the cold in my heart.

I'd thought I still had some small place in his heart.

Reality slapped me across the face, solid and hard, and I walked straight into the pregnancy-termination clinic.

When the doctor saw how far along I was and read my test results, her face turned grave.

"Thirteen weeks, with the placenta this lowa standard procedure carries too much risk."

"You'll need to be hospitalized for an induced abortion. There could be heavy bleeding. Have you thought this through?"

I lowered my head and laid a hand on my flat belly.

As a mother, how could I not ache over it?

That was my own flesh and blood, the flesh of my heart.

The more it ached, the less I dared to give birth to him.

How could I bring myself to let him come into this world to face a father who, before he was even born, was already scheming over the little maternity allowance he'd bring in?

Born into a family like this, he would only become a bargaining chip in Jackson's hands to haggle with me.

Not being able to bring you safely into the worldthat's Mommy's fault.

But keeping you from suffering in a home this rotten is the last thing Mommy can do for you.

I looked up at the doctor.

"I've thought it through."

After I paid, the nurse took me to the room to change.

On the phone, my mom cried and said she and my dad had already boarded the high-speed train and were on their way.

I told her not to worry and to be safe on the road.

When I hung up, the room was terrifyingly quiet.

I lay there quietly in bed, waiting for the medication to take effect.

At seven that evening, the labor-inducing drugs began to take effect.

At first it was just an intermittent tightening in my lower abdomen.

In less than an hour, the pain grew denser and denser, like someone twisting a knife around inside my belly.

My hospital gown was quickly soaked through with cold sweat.

Jackson didn't show up once, from start to finish.

At eight thirty, my phone buzzed.

It was a text from Jackson.

Have you made enough of a scene yet?

Blocking my calls every time we arguehow childish are you?

I stared at the screen and didn't reply.

Soon he sent a few more.

Margot's checkup turned up a problem, she has to be admitted right now, and I don't have enough cash on hand.

Transfer me the 67,000 you owe me first, it's urgent.

I'm only taking what you owe me, not a cent more.

I was in so much pain my whole body felt cold, but when I read that last line, I still couldn't help the twist at the corner of my mouth.

When his own sister ran into trouble, he could run himself ragged for her, empty his pockets for her.

His wife didn't come home all night, and he couldn't even be bothered to ask where I was.

And now he was reaching outonly to ask for money.

Suddenly another violent, cramping pain wrenched through my abdomen.

I couldn't even hold onto my phone. I curled up into a ball and bit down hard on the corner of the blanket.

The nurse came in on her rounds, saw the state I was in, and her face changed at once.

"Doctor! Bed 32 has abnormally tight contractions!"

A little after nine, the doctor rushed in to examine me.

"The placental separation looks bad. Prep her for surgery immediately."

I was lifted onto a gurney and rushed toward the treatment room.

The elevator doors at the end of the corridor opened just then.

Jackson wheeled Margot out.

When he saw me lying on the gurney, he froze for a second, then his face darkened and he strode over.

"How long are you going to keep up this act?"

"Jessica, that's about enough."

"Do you think if you blow this up big enough, you won't have to pay the money back?"

"You've been making a scene since yesterdayisn't this all just to force me to back down?"

"Let me tell you, one thing has nothing to do with the other. You owe me that money, and you're not paying a cent less."

Fighting through the tearing pain in my abdomen, I reached a hand out to the nurse.

"The consent form, please."

The nurse hesitated a moment, then handed over the clipboard with the papers on it.

Then I pulled those few sheets loose and flung them hard into Jackson's face.

Papers scattered all over the floor.

Jackson instinctively grabbed one of them.

The bold black letters at the top leapt out at him.

Informed Consent for Termination of Pregnancy.

His face went white in an instant.

"What is this?"

"Who gave you permission to do this?"

"That's my childhow dare you abort it behind my back?"

I knocked his hand aside.

"Didn't you always say my body is my own, and if anything goes wrong I have to take responsibility for it myself?"

"Well, now I'm taking responsibility myself."

"Your half of the seedI'm not having it."

Jackson lost it completely.

He spun around and grabbed the doctor beside him, his voice cracking.

"No! I don't consent!"

"Stop right now! I'm the child's father. Without my signature, you can't do this to her!"

The doctor threw his hand off.

"The patient has already taken the medication. There's no stopping it now."

"Her placenta is extremely low-lying, with a constant risk of major hemorrhage. The family needs to step back immediately and stop agitating the patient!"

Jackson refused to back off and lunged forward to grab me.

"Jessica, you're just trying to scare me!"

"There's no way you'd actually go through with aborting your own child!"

The words had barely left his mouth when a warm liquid gushed out from under me.

The nurse lifted the thin blanket and took one look.

Large patches of glaring bright red spread fast across the sheets.

The doctor's expression changed drastically.

"Her blood pressure is dropping!"

"Get her to the operating room now, quick!"

The gurney was shoved out hard.

The lights overhead flashed past above me, and my consciousness began to blur.

Jackson chased after us, and at last there was fear in his voice.

"Jessica!"

"Jessica, stop right there!"

The isolation doors of the operating room slammed shut.

His voice was cut off completely on the other side.