“You can’t keep this baby. You’re going to the hospital to get rid of it! We’ve already scheduled the procedure. You’re coming with us right now!” My father-in-law, Marvin Buckner, and mother-in-law, Georgia Sutton, each grabbed an arm and started dragging me toward the door. 

Meanwhile, the parrot in the living room kept squawking, “Get rid of the baby! Get rid of the baby!” 

Terrified, I clung to the armrest of the couch with all my strength. “No! I won’t do it. The baby is healthy. Why are you forcing me to get an abortion?” 

I begged them for an explanation, but they refused to give me one. 

When I wouldn’t let go, Marvin pried at my fingers and scolded me harshly. “You’re our daughter-in-law. Stop with the nonsense. If we tell you to get rid of the baby, you have to get rid of the baby!” 

As he pried off my last finger, my fear turned into unbearable anguish. I broke down completely, screaming through my tears. 

“The baby is healthy, and the report makes it clear that this baby carries the Buckner family’s blood! So why on earth would you rather believe a parrot’s nonsense and force me to get rid of my own baby over and over again?” 

This was my third pregnancy. 

The first time, I was only five weeks along when they heard the parrot say, “Get rid of the baby.” They then dragged me straight to the hospital for an abortion, without a single word of explanation. 

The second time, I was a month along. They listened to that parrot again and forced me to get an abortion that very same day. Even then, they didn’t bother explaining anything. 

I resisted both times. During the second time, I even showed them the prenatal report proving that the baby was developing normally, but they didn’t even bother to look. 

This time, I waited until I was three months along. Then, I underwent an amniocentesis and a full series of tests. Everything proved beyond doubt that the baby was healthy and that its DNA matched my husband, Gabriel Buckner’s. Only then did I tell Marvin and Georgia. 

Yet their reaction was the same. They insisted that I terminate the pregnancy no matter what. 

The thought of losing this baby filled me with rage and despair. Was my third baby destined to be taken from me as well? 

Instead of answering my pleas, they kept dragging me toward the door. I wasn’t strong enough to resist. In the end, they forced me outside. 

While we waited for the elevator, I begged them desperately. “Please, I’m begging you. This baby is innocent. You can’t take its life away! That parrot is just an animal. Stop listening to it! Please, let me keep this baby!” 

But even as I cried and dropped to my knees, they didn’t waver. 

Georgia looked down at me coldly. “You’ve already gotten rid of two. Why don’t you get it? This one is going too.” 

Just as I was about to resign myself to losing my baby again, the elevator doors slid open—and standing inside were none other than my parents, James Walsh and Avery Matthews. At that moment, I felt a flicker of hope.