With the door locked behind me, I take a deep breath and remove the stick from the foil package. The instructions are simple—pee on stick, wait five minutes before checking the final result.
The thoughts are accelerating inside my head. I want them to slow down, so my rational thoughts can talk this through. Breathe, just breathe. I’m on the pill, we’ve never had a mishap in the last four years. When it came to taking the pill, I am diligent. Always on time, at least, I think I am always on time. I close my eyes, racking my brain for possible slip-ups. I can’t come up with any, but we have been having quite a lot of sex. More so than we have had in a long time.
My breaths come in gasps, the uncertainty warranting a panic attack. The room begins to spin forcing me to sit on the toilet to prevent myself from fainting.
Just do the damn test and get this over with. You’ll be fine.
Releasing a breath, I open my eyes and grab the stick, placing it beneath me as I pee. When I’m done, I put it on the vanity, wash my hands, then flush the toilet.
Pacing the bathroom, I keep my head down while my heart begins to hammer in my chest like the loudest of drums. I squat on the floor, trying to make everything slow to something my brain and body can cope with.
I don’t know why I feel something is off.
Like something in my life is about to change.
I am not ready for this. Haden should be in here talking me off the ledge except he wouldn’t be talking me off the ledge, he would be standing in front of me, pom poms in hand cheering on a new baby.
My body is screaming at me, begging me to raise my eyes and meet my destiny.
One, two, three, eyes open.
As I raise my head at an agonizingly slow pace, the corners of my eyes are drawn to the vanity, tracing the line in the middle of the stick.
Correction, lines.
Seven
Presley
Lines.
My eyes zoom back to the stick. There’s no mistaking the second blue line, it stands out like a pink elephant in a room full of nuns.
I yank the stick, bringing it close to my sight. It sits in my shaking hands. Two blue lines. With a sudden urge, I grab the box, turning it over to make sure I followed the instructions precisely.
There’s no mistaking it’s there. Taunting me, laughing in my face about how my life is about to change forever. Weight gain, imbalanced hormones, swelling ankles to name a few.
Pregnancy is supposed to be a joyous occasion. I’m supposed to feel elated. Motherhood has some great moments, but it is utterly exhausting and giving birth is less appealing.
I can’t do this again.
Not now, not when Haden and I are just starting to enjoy Masen becoming more independent, therefore giving us more time with each other. We went straight to having a kid, never experiencing the honeymoon stage many couples enjoy prior to starting a family.
I’m selfish, wanting more time alone with my husband. Another baby will just get in the way.
Our business is booming. Haden predicts we will double in the next two years if we work hard and play our cards right. We, being the operative word. I can’t take maternity leave, stay at home and raise another baby. I need to be in the office. My job is my life. I am not cut out to stay home and bake cookies while my husband galivants across the country.
The timing is all wrong.
Haden’s voice echoes in the bedroom. Panicked, I wrap the test in toilet paper and place it in the bottom drawer, pushing it to the back beneath some tampons.
Haden knocks on the bathroom door.
“Babe, Lex wants to go through some things tomorrow night. He suggests we come over for dinner. You cool with that?”
My voice is caught up in my throat. I’m not up for anything besides wanting to climb into a dark hole and cry myself to sleep.
“Um, sure,” I croak, clearing my throat to disguise my fear. “Sounds like a plan.”