"How much suffering have you endured for these two children! You finally got pregnant, and you can meet them in two or three months. Why do you suddenly want to give them up?"
Mia was peevish and often lost control of her emotions. I could only try to comfort her.
"Mia, be good. Wait for me at home and calm down, okay?
"Even if you don't want the children, you should not reject my company."
I racked my brains to persuade her, but she interrupted me in an excited state.
"The uterus is mine, and I have the right to decide whether to abort the children or not. I'm calling you to inform you, not to ask for your opinion.
"That's it, I'm hanging up!"
I panicked and desperately called her, but no one answered.
My 30th birthday became a nightmare for me.
When I rushed to the hospital where she often had check-ups, she had already been pushed out on her sickbed.
The once bulging belly under the bedsheet was now flat.
I stumbled forward and stopped the wheeling bed.
"Did you have the abortion?"
Mia's face was pale. She answered me without any fluster, as if she was talking about something insignificant.
"Well, the gestational age was too advanced, so I had to have an induced abortion!
"It's two girls. So it's not a pity!"
I stared at her with wide eyes, unable to accept that she, who was about to become a mother, said these words.
At first, when it was confirmed that they were identical twins, she was full of expectations. She said that if they were two girls, she would dress them up as little princesses, and she would share girlish things with them in the future. If they were two boys, she would harden them with challenges and there would be three men to protect her.
Her words were still fresh in my mind. Only a few months had passed. Yet she wasn't sad or regretful at all.
A dense pain welled up in my heart, but when I looked at her pale face, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her.
"They are our children, our hard-won children. How can you suddenly be so heartless and give up them so rashly?"
Mia bit her lip and lowered her head without looking at me.
"I just feel that I suffer from bearing children. My figure is ruined, my face is breaking out, and I can't eat or sleep well every day. I just can't continue.
"I heard that giving birth requires either a cesarean section or an episiotomy. I'm scared, I'm so scared..."
As she spoke, she buried her face in the quilt and sobbed.