Misunderstandings (Woodfalls Girls 2)

I woke screaming with cramps seizing my belly. Groaning in pain, I wrapped my arms around my stomach, instinctively knowing what was happening. The dampness between my legs was the only verification I needed. Fear ripped through me as I flipped on the light so Melissa could help me.

My heart dropped when I discovered Melissa’s bed was empty. Not wanting to attract any attention, I reached for my phone and dialed the number for a cab company rather than call 911. The pain was steady and cramps continued to rip across my stomach as I struggled to gather my belongings. Shrugging into my heavy jacket, I headed out of my room to wait for the cab that would take me to the hospital.

The hours I spent at the hospital passed in a blur. A sympathetic doctor confirmed I had lost the baby. I watched with dry eyes as they gave me a local anesthetic and then performed a D&C to remove any remaining tissue. That was how they referred to it. Tissue. As if the thing that had thrown my world completely out of whack had been nothing more than that. My eyes burned from the tears I refused to shed. After the procedure, I was placed in a curtained-off area where I could be observed for the next few hours until they released me.

I received a text around noon from Melissa, asking where I was, while a nurse checked me over one last time. I typed a hasty message telling her I was with the doctor. She fired back immediately asking if I was okay. The nurse was in the process of telling me what to expect over the next few days as my body adjusted to the loss of the baby. My phone chirped again, signaling another message from Melissa.

“Sorry, it’s my friend,” I said as the nurse paused her instructions. I typed out a quick answer to Melissa, not even paying attention to what I had typed. The nurse waited while I finished and then continued giving me the list of things to watch for.

“You might want to text your friend and tell her you need a ride home,” she said kindly as I listened to her instructions in a daze.

“Oh, that’s okay. I’ll call a cab. My friend doesn’t have a car.”

“We’d rather you had someone with you for the next twenty-four hours.”

“She’ll meet me at my dorm,” I promised, gathering my belongings.

“Are you sure?” she said skeptically.

“Promise,” I said, ready to leave. The knot in my throat from holding back my tears was to the point of becoming painful. An orderly wheeled me outside and helped me into the waiting cab. I needed to make it home and then I could cry. I was scared that if I started now, I wouldn’t be able to stop as I thought about how empty my body suddenly felt.

29.

Present Day

4:30 PM

“Okay, so I was a chump,” Justin admitted. “It doesn’t mean I didn’t deserve to know you were pregnant. I should have had a say in some of the decisions. I know it’s your body, and in the end you get the final say, but it was my baby too. I should have known about it before you got an abortion.”

I felt his pain. I’d lived with it for two years. I should have forced him to listen when I had the chance, but I let pride dictate my actions. I walked away, allowing Justin to believe the worst about me. Maybe I felt it was justice for me to bear the brunt of his accusations since I had contemplated abortion in the first place. It was only after I lost the baby that I realized I could never have gone through with it. I lost something I never realized I wanted until it was gone. Melissa had been heartbroken from the role she had played in the mix-up. She begged me to let her tell him the truth, but I swore her to secrecy. I told her if she cared for me, she would let it go.

Over the tough weeks following the miscarriage, Melissa continued to badger me to tell him the truth, but in the end, I tucked my tail between my legs and ran. Not only from my own pain, but from the destruction I had caused others.

30.

March 2011

Melissa was waiting outside when the cab dropped me off at my dorm. Clouds had moved in while I spent the morning at the hospital and a steady drizzle of moisture was falling from the sky. It seemed fitting that the sky appeared to be weeping.

“I would have gone with you,” Melissa greeted me as she helped me into our room, dripping wet.

“Huh?” I asked through chattering teeth as I worked to pull my wet clothes off so I could replace them with something dry.

“I said I would have gone with you,” she repeated, sounding hurt.

“That’s okay. You weren’t here,” I pointed out, climbing under my blankets.

“You could have waited for me,” she accused, sounding a little miffed.

“Um, no, I really couldn’t.”

“You mean to tell me you couldn’t have scheduled it for a time when I could go with you?” she said in a thick voice.

“Schedule what?” I began to understand. “Melissa, I didn’t get an abortion. Didn’t you read my messages?” I said, pulling out my phone to show her the text messages I sent.

“Yes, I did. You said you were with the doctor in the first text, and in the second you said you weren’t pregnant anymore.”

“So you just assumed I . . .” I cut myself off as I looked at my phone and saw she was right. Tears filled my eyes. “When I typed the last message the nurse had been in the process of telling me what to expect after the miscarriage. You get that? My miscarriage. I was still kind of in a daze at the time. I wasn’t really paying attention to what I was typing,” I said.