“This isn’t a joke. I cannot be that one percent, Vicky.”
“Someone has to be,” she points out. “Why would you stop the Pill?”
“I don’t know,” I sulk. “I have no idea who I am anymore! I got so caught up in having fun that I just forgot one day and didn’t think it would be a big deal since we used protection anyway.”
I sink into the sofa, smothering myself with cushions and praying that they would turn into monsters and suffocate me to death. Instead, I sit here feeling like a cheap hooker. I am worthy of being on Jerry Springer or Maury Povich. How could I not know who the father is of the baby I’m carrying? This isn’t how I was raised; this isn’t who I am. I know better than this.
“It’s okay to cry, Pres.” Vicky rubs my shoulder.
My hands are shaking. “I don’t want to cry. I’m so angry at myself. How could I be so irresponsible? I planned to have kids with the right man when we were married. I didn’t sign up for being a single mother. What will my parents think? What will everyone think?!”
“It doesn’t matter what everyone thinks, Pres. This is your life, not theirs.” She continues, “As for your parents…they’ll get over the initial shock and I’m sure they’ll be excited to have a grandbaby. It’s not like Gemma is popping one out any time soon, you know, eating pussy and all.”
“Vicky!”
“What?! It’s true. You’ll look back at this moment one day and be thankful you’re blessed with a child. Think about all those women trying their asses off…well not their asses but you know what I mean.”
“So in the meantime can I wish I could climb into a time machine and stay celibate?”
“Yes, but first you need to find out who the baby daddy is. Then you can revert back to OCD Presley and plan your life away.”
Stupid doctor’s office with its sterile walls that make you feel like you’re in a nuthouse.
It took me a week to find the courage to make an appointment and have my blood taken. In that week, I avoided Marcus at all costs with every believable excuse I could muster. He understood, but warned me that if he hadn’t fucked me by Saturday, I was in major trouble.
What does a pregnant woman say to that? I had no response but to send him a smiley face.
“Miss Malone, I have your results here.”
Dr. Taylor procrastinates in the most annoying way possible. He’s pushing close to a hundred (okay, exaggerating a little) and even the way he writes everything on paper versus using a computer bugs me. Hormones…blame the hormones.
“You’re definitely pregnant, and the blood work shows you’re about four months along.”
The lump in my throat is the size of the planet Jupiter. My chest tightens, constricting my ability to breathe. My eyes start to twitch followed by the room spinning in circles. Dr. Taylor is concerned, calling my name in the distance. I focus in on his face, mumbling the question that is bursting to come out.
“So when you say four months…I fell pregnant around…”
“March,” he confirms.
FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!
This. Cannot. Be. Happening.
“But it was only one time,” I beg, almost in tears. “I was on the Pill back then and we used condoms.”
“Miss Malone, I always advise my patients that the Pill is only ninety-nine percent effective. You did the right thing using a condom, but even condoms aren’t one hundred percent.”
“Why does everyone say that?!” I raise my voice. “I can’t be pregnant! If nothing’s one hundred percent then why are people having sex?”
“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 prior to 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 a number of 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 that we don’t encourage but sometimes it helps to know your options. You don’t have long though, if that’s the road 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 don’t think 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; 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 that 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 into 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 could I have a baby when I soon would have no place to live? How could 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 cell lights the room, and I pick it up to read the text.
Rain check tomorrow night babe. Haden’s back in town and boy does he have a surprise.
The cell slips out of my hand and onto the floor.
Running fast to the bathroom, I vomit profusely into the basin. 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 jerks 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.