YOUCH it took me long to finish this one, but it's done!
I spent way too long stressing over the layout of the panels or being unable to convey the emotion I wanted visually. Then I spent ages trying to get the obfuscation on the text to look acceptable and the composition to look nice. Whole nightmare, but I least I pulled through lol.
Kinda want to give a minor heads up as well, that I'm very much considering switching up the format of this story once this arc finishes. I'm still very on the fence about it, because I really don't think I have the skills to convey in words what I can convey visually, but I don't know yet. Might get a little more experimental, but I wanna make sure the arc in itself stays consistent in format.
As much as it's taking me ages to make, and I'm struggling with not stressing over the quality of it all, I do still want to tell the story.
(Funnily enough last month I saw a post from a comic artists I follow saying "If you've done made a comic before, aim for something under 30 pages. Trust me!" Yeah I'm really feeling that one now. Wish I'd seen it sooner but oh well :P)
hellooooo i'm going to say sorry in advance!! this one is gonna hurt. (no one throw rocks at me)
tw abortion mention
Jack Abbot, if he had to label himself, would call himself a feminist. He thinks women deserve better. Better wages, better rights, better healthcare. He is a huge advocate for a woman's right to choose - hell, he'd fudge a patients fetus measurements to get them the abortion they need. And he's done it before (not that anyone could prove it).
Jack Abbot is a feminist.
And yet.
When you tell him you're pregnant, he's elated. When you, his wonderful, beautiful girlfriend whom he loves so dearly, tells him you're pregnant he couldn't be happier. When you, the woman he sees spending the rest of his life with, tells him you're pregnant he sees a future he thought he'd lost, a future he thought he'd never get after his wife died, after the candles on his birthday cake grew dangerously close to 50. Jack is over the moon.
When you don't share in his excitement, he feels something get crushed in his chest. The excitement, the hope, the happiness. When you frown and pull away from him, Jack feels his chest get tight, like the distance between you both physically hurts.
When you tell Jack you don't want kids, you've never wanted kids, you don't want this baby, a small voice inside him cries out in pain. Like a wounded animal.
The two of you had never discussed having kids, you were only a year into your relationship, had only moved in together last month. Jack knew the topic would have come up eventually, especially considering how he already knew he wanted to marry you. Jack had thought about it in passing, about what he would do or how he would feel if you said you didn't want children. Jack had thought it wouldn't be a problem, he was too old to be a father. By the time his kids graduated high school he'd be retired. It wasn't a good idea and he thought he'd be fine with your decision.
But the fact you were pregnant had lit a fire in him that he thought died with his wife. His excitement surprised him and your firm dismissal hurt. It shouldn't because Jack wanted you to make the right choice for yourself, for your body and your life. It shouldn't hurt.
But it did.
When Jack tries to speak with you, maybe soothe some concerns, you shut him down. Hard. You don't want to be pregnant. You don't want to give birth. You don't want to have or raise children. You like kids and respect them and the people who make the choice to become parents but you don't want that. You're sorry if he wants children but kids are not something you can compromise on. They're people.
Your answer is no.
You ask Jack in a nervous, frustrated voice if having children is a deal breaker. If your relationship is over right here and now because this pregnancy is not something you want or will go through with.
Jack tells you no. This isn't a deal breaker. And his heart breaks as he does. He's telling you the truth, but like so many things today, it's surprises him how much it hurts.
You blink back relieved tears and tell him you're going to make an appointment at a clinic because you don't want anyone from PTMC to know. You leave the room to make the call and Jack sits down on the bed, unable to stand any longer.
He'll go with you to the appointment. He'll hold your hand and he'll get over his feelings. He did it once, he can do it again. He loves you, this isn't a deal breaker, he still wants to marry you.
But for just one minute, Jack sits alone in his bedroom, and mourns his faint dream of being a father.
