“Abstinence is your one hundred percent,” he reminds me.
What a stupid remark. No one is going to abstain from having sex.
“I was with the same man before that for five years. I was on the pill, but that’s it. How come I didn’t fall pregnant with him?”
“It could be several things. Perhaps you weren’t actually having intercourse during ovulation, but most likely you’ve found a male partner with strong sperm that’s extremely compatible with your eggs.”
Dr. Taylor retrieves a pamphlet from his desk, sliding it in front of me. The front has a picture of a woman, and clearly printed are the words, What You Need to Know About Abortions.
A sudden reflex, and I slide it back to him. “I can’t do that.”
“I understand. It’s an option, one we don’t encourage, but sometimes it helps to know your options. You don’t have long, though, if that’s the option you want to take.”
“I’m thirty-two, Dr. Taylor. I have a secure job, money saved, and my own place. Well, kind of. I didn’t plan this, I’m not sure the father will take this well nor will he be present in the child’s life, but I do know one thing for sure…” I say without taking a breath, “… I was raised in a religious family. My sister is a lesbian, but my family accepted her choices. My parents will be disappointed in me, but I know deep down inside, this has to be counted as a blessing.”
At that moment, I realize this is not a therapy session, and I’m not quite sure why I brought up that my sister is a lesbian. Then it dawns on me that I need validation. I can’t be a single mom without the support of my family. Gemma was eighteen when she told my parents she wasn’t interested in men. At first, my mom cried for a whole week and even tried bringing nice boys home. Of course, it didn’t work. Gemma was not switching teams. My parents eventually accepted her decision, and now they are persuading Gemma and her partner, Mel, to get married.
If they accepted homosexuality, they can accept I’m going to be a single mom.
“So, I take it you’re not in a relationship with the father?”
“Three words for you, Doc. One. Night. Stand.”
I see pity or maybe even a little bit of judgment in his eyes. He carries on about prenatal appointments, supplements, and other things that are flying in one ear and out the other. In my head, I only see the look on the Jerk’s face when I tell him.
Or maybe I don’t tell him?
No. No, I have to tell him.
Then there is Marcus.
This is too much to think about, so I opt for a quick escape, head to the nearest supermarket, and fill my cart full of chocolate. The checkout lady is definitely judging me, and I am quick to ease her curiosity.
“I just found out I’m knocked up after a one-night stand. I work in the same office as him, plus he’s a jerk.”
“You eat that chocolate, girl, and you enjoy it,” she tells me, even discounting my total at the end.
It’s a long walk back to my apartment, and as soon as I open the door, the boxes packed against the wall remind me of what’s to come.
How can I have a baby when I soon will have no place to live?
How can I continue working, and who would take care of the baby?
The questions keep flooding my brain until I’m forced to sit down with a migraine of epic proportions.
I fall asleep, and when I wake up, it’s dark outside.
My phone lights the room, and I pick it up to read the text.
Marcus: Raincheck tomorrow night, babe. Haden’s back in town and boy does he have a surprise.
The phone slips out of my hand and onto the floor.
Running fast to the bathroom, I vomit profusely into the toilet. My unruly hair is mangled in my face, forcing me to turn the shower on. As the steam fills the bathroom, I undress and stare at my naked body in the mirror. My stomach still looks flat, and even as I turn to the side, nothing appears to be different. My breasts, however, they look like giant balloons. How did I not notice this before? There is a swell just underneath my nipples. When I touch them, my body jolts at the unpleasant tingle that follows. Even the color looks slightly different, darker.
The steam soon covers the mirror. I climb into the shower and allow the hot water to wash my worries away.
I have to be the adult here. He deserves to know the truth, even if he doesn’t want anything to do with us.