"This is not happening. It can't be true." I whisper to myself over and over again as I slowly slide down the wall in the bathroom after finding out that my pee is telling me I'm with child.
I try to think about when this would have happened. It must have been the night before Josh left, it's the only logical explanation. I could have sworn we used protection, though... Whatever. I need to get to a doctor, pronto.
So I lift myself carefully off the floor. Somehow the fact of knowing that I have a living, breathing human inside of me scares me into oblivion. I don't want to hurt it in any way. I know that I probably am not ready for any of this; for living alone in my boyfriend's house, which is now technically our house, or for being a mother. But I might as well do the best that I can at what was set in front of me.
Anyway, I grab my phone off of the counter and scroll through my contacts. I finally find the "Doctor" contact, and call them. Josh probably would have been the better option for calling first, but I just feel it would be better to tell him face-to-face. I'll definitely tell him on Skype tonight.
"Is everything okay?" I hear in my ear, and realize that a woman has already picked up on the other line.
"Oh, yeah, sorry. Um, I just wanted to know if you had any OB-GYNs at your office? I think I might be pregnant and I need to know for sure." I struggle to say the last part, because it is kind of embarrassing to admit to a complete stranger.
"Oh, of course we do, sweetie," the older woman on the other end of the call coos, almost apologetically. "If you are able, maybe you could come in maybe an hour?"
"That's perfect. Thanks so much!" I say to the lady. She gives me the address of the office and we hang up. I should probably bring these tests, I think. Then I catch a glimpse of someone in the mirror that I don't recognize.
I see a girl with the same clothes I have on, her hair the same messy bun that sits atop my head, but her face is what's different. This girl looks very afraid, judging by her wide eyes and the tear streaks lining her cheeks. She also looks a lot older, as if I have aged in the past five minutes. But somehow, I know the girl who stares back is me. A me that I have never seen before. One that is not ready for what is ahead, one that doesn't know how to handle the future, but one who knows that she will get by, with whatever things are thrown her way.
And so I leave that bathroom with new-found confidence, a baggy with eight positive pregnancy tests, and the strength in my heart of three thousand wrestlers.
***
When I walk into the doctor's office half an hour later (which turns out to be attached to a hospital, so it's pretty big), I see that it is packed. There is someone from every age group here; whether you are five months or one hundred and five years old you would fit in. So I don't get looked at funny when I walk into the office to go and sign some papers before I get called in at the exact time of my appointment.
"So, Lillian, I hear that you think you might be pregnant. Is this true?" A woman in her mid-thirties, who introduced herself as Dr. Hartford, asks me when I sit down in one of the rooms. This room contains a bed, some cabinets and a wheel-around screen that has a lot of buttons connected to it by wires. This must be the ultrasound room.
"Yes, Doctor. And by the way, you can call me Lilly." I reply to her question.
"I see, and how did this happen?" Dr. Hartford asks me.
I had sex, I want to say, but instead I explain the night before Josh left -- leaving out all of the unimportant, kinky details. When I finish, the doctor just looks at me above her glasses for a long time. In these moment, I get a good look at her. She has natural caramel colored hair that comes down to about her shoulders, is pretty tall, maybe 5'9, and has square-framed glasses perched perfectly on her nose. She is very pretty, but I can't see a wedding ring. I wonder why...
"Well, we should get you checked out, then," Dr. Hartford says and tells me to lay down, take off my hoodie, and lift up my shirt.
I do as I'm told, and Dr. Hartford turns off the lights. You can only see around the room because the ultrasound screen, which is now directly on the right side of my bed, gives off plenty of light.
"Okay, Lilly, I am going to sit here," the doctor places a seat next to the screen. I nod to her. "Now, I am going to put gel on your stomach. It's very cold, so don't be alarmed."
She squeezes some gel onto my stomach, which is freezing cold, and then takes out a stick thing and starts to rub it on my abdomen. She is pressing down somewhat hard, but not enough to hurt, and seems very concentrated on the screen in front of her. I am seeing the same thing she is, just that she has a smaller screen than me.
"Lilly, how old are you, hon?" Dr. Hartford asks me.
"I'm nineteen, ma'am." I reply.
"Okay." She continues looking at the screen, searching for a baby in my stomach.
After some exploring, she stops. "Well, Lilly, congratulations. You are going to have a baby!" My jaw drops.
So it's true. All those tests didn't lie. I'm actually, truly, honestly pregnant. "Oh. Thanks." I say less than enthusiastically.
"Would you like me to print out the picture?" She asks me, and I tell her yes. She hands me the picture, turns on the light, and wipes off the gel.
"This is the baby, huh?" I ask, because I can't really make out anything.
"Yep. Right in the middle." The doctor points out a slightly misshapen object, and I see it. That's my baby. It is inside of me, living off of me, breathing off of me, eating, drinking, everything with me. I feel a tear roll down my cheek, and I decide to think about the positives in the situation. I am going to have a baby with the person I love the most, and we are going to be happy. I refuse to ever regret this, because having a child is the most beautiful that could ever happen to anyone, even if you are as young as me.
"Wow. It's beautiful." I say truthfully, because even though it doesn't even look like a person yet, it truly is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
"I bet it is. Anyway, you are just about four weeks along, and you should come back every three to four weeks, just to check everything out. You are due in about mid-June, but if you see anything unusual before then, such as bleeding, terrible pains, anything, come here right away. That's all for today, do you have any questions, concerns, comments?" The doctor both informs and asks.
I decide that I have two questions. "Yeah. When are we going to know the sex?" I ask. I think I already know the answer to this one, but I want to be completely sure before I make any assumptions.
"About five months. Anything else?"
"What should I do for vitamins? I am supposed to take a daily vitamin but I don't want them to hurt the baby."
"Prenatal vitamins are the best for the baby. You can take them starting now all the way up until you give birth, if you wanted. I'll give a prescription now." Dr. Hartford writes me a prescription and I gladly take it. "Is that all?"
"Yeah, that's it. So I guess I'll see you soon?"
"Yeah, we will see each other very soon." The doctor gets up and shakes my hand. "Congratulations, Lilly."
"Thanks. Bye." I get up and leave the room. I stop at the front desk, make an appointment for the first of November, and walk out of the office on the way to the drug store I was at just this morning.
***
I walk into the house at quarter to six after waiting at the pharmacy for three and a half hours for my vitamins, which is a ridiculously long time. I almost walked right out of that place, but finally they gave me my pills, free for my wait, and I drove home.
I decide to sit down and take everything in before I cook dinner with the picture from the ultrasound. Today, I found out that I am carrying a child. I'm pregnant. Knocked-up. With child. I am now responsible for a person -- from this moment until the minute I die. It is all on me and Josh...
Josh! I haven't told him yet! I shoot up from my seat at the island, hang the picture on the fridge, and run to the TV to Skype call him.
After trying to call him for fifteen minutes, he finally picks up. "Hello, gorgeous!" Josh exclaims, and I am excited to see him alone. He will need time after I tell him this news.
"Hey, handsome." I reply and Josh blushes. I giggle at his reaction, and he sticks his tongue out. These are the kinds of things that I miss between us back when he was here, because it shows how, even though we are dating, we are the best of friends, too.
"So, what's going on?" I ask Josh.
"Nothing much. I actually just got off set when my phone started going off. That's why I didn't answer you right away, because I had to get out of my costume and my makeup. What about you, did you do anything interesting today?" Josh asks.
Oh, no. Here it comes. "Well, kind of. I took the day off of work." I decide to start slow, and then ease my way into it.
"Oh, yeah?" Josh replies, grabbing a handful of M&M's that are conveniently placed next to the computer and pops some into his mouth. "And what did you do on your day off?"
"Well, first I went to the drug store to get," I hesitate. Do I really want to tell him? What if he gets mad at me? What if he kicks me out of his house and breaks up with me? I can't even bear that thought...
"To get what, babe?" Josh asks, suddenly serious.
"To get some Tums. I figure it will help my stomach." I am not going to tell him tonight. I'll tell him tomorrow night, for sure.
But I don't. And I don't tell him the next night, either. Or the night after that. In fact, I don't tell him for over a month, in which time I get my second ultrasound (everything is healthy). I don't know what is holding me back, but whatever it is it needs to leave because this is his baby as much as it is mine. I decided to schedule my third ultrasound for the week that Josh comes home for Thanksgiving, that way it will be easy to tell him. At least, I hope...
***
It is now the day before Josh comes home for a week, making the date November 17, and it is a Saturday. I am about two months and a week along in my pregnancy, and I have both of my ultrasound pictures on the fridge for Josh. I'm not showing yet, but Dr. Hartford told me that I will start to show at around three and a half to four months, and I'm kind of excited for that, to be honest.
I just finished my last video chat with Josh, hopefully for a long time, seeing as how he is coming home tomorrow and I am leaving to Hawaii with him until Christmas, which is really exciting.
I make myself some dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets and smiley fries, before sitting down in front of the TV to catch up on my Keeping Up with the Kardashians.
About halfway through the episode, after finishing my dinner, I start to get hungry again. I pause the show and walk into the kitchen, suddenly craving pickles.
This sudden need for those wretched things stops my dead in my tracks. I want... pickles? I hate pickles. No, I absolutely DESPISE pickles. Why would I want them?
I don't know, but I NEED them. Like now. And if I don't get them I might start eating everything in sight because I am suddenly so hungry I could eat a horse. No, a cow. No, probably the whole damn farm and then some.
This hunger is what pushes me into the kitchen, faster than lightning. I bolt to the fridge, prying the door open so fast the magnets and the pictures fly off of the door, but I don't even care right now. I need this food that suddenly sounds like a food from the heavens.
I search the whole fridge, twice. There are no pickles in sight. At all. But they are necessary. I physically need them so badly that I am about to scream. I run to my car in my slippers and lounge around clothes, hop in, and drive to the nearest grocery store that is not a Whole Foods, because that food sounds suddenly very ratchet to me.
I run into the store after I park my car in about five total parking spaces, and speed walk to the line with the pickles in it. When I get to that godforsaken aisle, I decide that I will probably need a cart. I take one that seems to be just sitting in the middle of the aisle that has nothing inside of it, and put in about twenty jars of the beautiful green vegetable.
I feel like I will probably need something sweet, too, so I grab four large cans of vanilla frosting, seven tubs of ice cream (all different flavors), and a pre-made cake.
While I wait in line to pay for my unhealthy yet so appetizing order, I get some pretty strange looks. One lady even asks me why I'm getting all of this stuff, and I reply with, "I'm pregnant, and I crave 'all of this stuff' really badly. So mind your own business, nosey." She walks away saying something about my crazy hormones, but I don't even bother fighting back, because it is my turn to check out.
After bagging all of my stuff, I take my cart out to my car and pack the trunk with all of it. Then I drive out of the parking lot faster than I pulled in, and get home without getting a ticket in less than five minutes.
I unload the car as fast as I can, and when I get inside with my last bag, I pop open the first jar of pickles. I bite into the spear, and let out a moan. It is that good.
I decide to try something. I open a frosting can, take my pickle, and dip the thing in. I pull it out and bite into it, and I swear, the taste is orgasmic. I eat three more jars of pickles and finish off two frosting cans, before I feel full enough and tired enough to fall asleep. So I put everything away, making sure to put every picture back on the fridge before walking down to my bedroom and crawling into bed.
***
I wake up on Sunday morning to an alarm blaring through the whole room. I check the time, which is 8:00 AM, and remember that Josh is coming home today!
The excitement and nervousness must have upset the baby, because the next thing I know, my head is in the toilet and I am barfing up a storm, just like I do every morning.
When I finish retching, I sigh and get up to shower and get ready. After I am out of the shower I make my way to the closet, where I try to find some clothes that will be sufficient enough to pick someone up at the airport on this cold November day.
Finally, after twenty minutes of searching, I put on a pair of dark washed jeggings, an off-white sweater, and a knitted, off the head beanie. I throw on a pair of black ballet flats with a bow on the toe end, check the full length mirror, and then sit down at my makeup counter. I swipe rub on some tinted moisturizer, swipe on some mascara, and I decide that I'm ready to go.
I walk into the kitchen and make myself some pancakes, which I end up covering in dices of pickles and syrup, and quickly shove them down my throat. The baby seems to be holding it down, until I puke it right back up again. I guess no pancakes for me.
I brush my teeth and curl my hair, which is starting to turn dirty blonde with the upcoming winter months. When I feel that I am ready, I check the time (which is 10:30) and walk out the door and get into the car, en route to the airport.
***
When I get to the airport, expecting Josh's plane to land at 11:45, I am informed that his plane was delayed because of storms for two hours.
Great. Just great. I think about going back home, but decide that it would be a better idea to just stay here.
I was wrong. It was a terrible idea. My hormones were going through the roof, and I'm pretty sure that was visible because not one person came to talk to me. I would expect at least some girls to recognize me, being Josh's girlfriend and all, and maybe they did. But I know for a fact that if they did approach me, I would have screamed in their faces. That's how hormonal I was.
I didn't know the time, because my phone died, but I finally got up and started to walk out the door. I was so finished with waiting that I just almost walked out that door. But as I started walking away from my chair, I heard a familiar voice from behind me say, "Oh, come on. That's not the welcome I was expecting."
I turn around and see Josh standing a few feet away from me. My face breaks into a grin and I jump into his already wide-open arms. Tears of happiness start streaming down my face, and I hug him even tighter. Since my legs are wrapped around his waist, I look down at him and say, "Welcome home, Josh." and I kiss him on the lips with my hands cupping his face.
We break apart after awhile, and Josh sets me down on the ground. We grab his bags and walk hand-in-hand to my car. Tonight is going to be very nerve-wracking.
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Sorry for not updating last night!!! I stayed up as late as I could trying to finish, but I just couldn't keep my eyes open!!!
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