Iris
The bleeding hasn’t stopped. It’s been heavy, constant since last night. I didn’t want to, but I called Caleb, who predictably freaked out. I’m freaking out, too. Is it anxiety twisting my stomach into knots, or am I miscarrying? Are my breaths short and quick because of fear, or is it something else? What’s happening to me? To the baby?
My OBGYN told us to meet her at the hospital. I’m nearing the end of my first trimester, when miscarriages are most likely. God forgive me, but there is a small part of me that would be relieved if I miscarried. Like I’d dodged a bullet and could go on with my plans undisturbed.
I know there are women, probably on this very floor, so joyful and grateful to be pregnant. Some of them made sacrifices, lost babies along the way, underwent fertility treatments to have what I don’t want and never asked for, but I can’t argue with that renegade part of me that sees this as a possible escape.
The door to my room swings open slowly, and Lotus pokes her head in.
“Hey, Gumbo.” Her smile belies the concern on her face.
I wave her in, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. She hurries over and plops onto the bed beside me, her arms encircling me. I bury my face in her shoulder and try to hold all the emotions in—the anxiety, the guilt, the hope, the frustration. They all swirl inside of me, as mixed up as the soup I’m nicknamed for.
“How you holding up?” Lotus asks, pulling away to study me closely.
“I’m okay.” When she levels a skeptical look on me, I give up the pretense. “Alright. I’m losing my mind.”
“What do they say?
“They’re running tests.” I sniff and swipe at my wet cheeks. “They should be back in soon.”
“Where’s Caleb?” She looks around the room like he might be hiding in the closet or under the bed. “I’m sure he’s not far since this is his heir apparent.”
I laugh, but Caleb is slightly obsessed with this pregnancy. I may still feel ambiguous about this baby, but he certainly doesn’t. The only thing I’ve ever seen him want more is basketball.
“His agent called and needed to go over a few things, so he stepped out for a sec.”
“I guess he’s excited about going to Baltimore, huh?” Lotus asks.
The Baltimore Stingers took Caleb in the draft. August wanted to play for his hometown team, but the San Diego Waves drafted him instead. Somehow, even though he smiled for the cameras and pulled the team’s cap over his dark, caramel-streaked curls, I knew he was disappointed. He and Caleb keep trading victories and losses.
Score another for Caleb.
“Yeah,” I finally answer Lotus’s question. “He’s looking for a place in Baltimore now. He’ll be moving in the next few weeks.”
“And you?” Lotus studies my face. “Where will you be moving?”