took me a few minutes to grasp the diagnosis even after the blood test came back. “What do you mean, ‘positive’?”
“I mean you’re six weeks pregnant. You’re due…,” she started as she referred to her little round chart, “October 31st.”
I laughed. “Oh, I get it. This is a joke. Halloween baby. I get it. Ha, ha. Good one, doc.”
The doctor smiled as she patted me on the leg. “It’s not a joke. If the pregnancy is unplanned, I have some literature I can send with you to go over the options you have available to you.”
She instructed that I lay back on the examination table, where she began to feel around my tender tummy. “If you like, I can prescribe some prenatal vitamins for you. Then you can follow up with an obstetrician. You’ll want to do that as soon as possible.”
Who could think about that when I was still thinking about all those choices that were available to me, and not one of which was going back in time and not sleeping with Christopher in the first place; which I felt was a little unfair.
After the doctor left me to dress, Fern was by my side in an instant. “Oh, my God, Pea. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” I mumbled, wrestling into my clothing. “What would you do?”
“Gosh, I don’t know. I mean, it could happen to anybody. God knows I’ve had my scares. But with a guy like that,” she said, making a face I couldn’t help but mirror.
God. And now I was linked to him. Forever.
With all the challenges that now lay ahead of me, telling him he knocked me up ranked at the top of things I dreaded. This was notches above morning sickness, stretch marks, labor or even an episiotomy.
Fern drove me home, stopping to get me a smoothie along the way. The cool icy sweet liquid helped calm my tummy, which hadn’t been right for days.
Now we knew why.
Once we got to the apartment, I didn’t stop walking till I reached my bedroom, where I face-planted on my bed. Fern joined me. When she brushed the hair from my eyes, it was like a dam broke. I had never really been overly emotional, but I couldn’t stop crying. I supposed hormones were to blame.
“What am I going to do?” I wailed.
“Well. Let’s talk about it,” my pragmatic sister offered. “You’re pro-choice, right? Option one: Abortion.”
I made a face. I supported the thought in theory, but I never really imagined myself in a situation where I might need one. However, in this case it was the one choice that could mean I could go back to my life, even this gig with The Duke, without missing much of a beat. And that check still waited for my signature at the office. That money was for services rendered. How would being pregnant and then a new single mom affect that? I couldn’t see the Duke performing all over Europe with me waddling around backstage. Presenting me to the queen? Forget about it.
The most appealing part of such a quick solution was that Christopher would never know I was pregnant at all. He could go on in blissful ignorance. The only one who would know life had irrevocably changed would be me.
Frankly, that seemed lonely as hell.
“Next,” I said softly.
She raised her eyebrows but trudged ahead. “Option two: adoption.”
I shook my head with an immediate veto. “If I have an abortion, I get my life back in a few weeks and nobody has to know. If I go through with it, then what’s the point of giving the baby away? Christopher will know he’s the dad. Probably do everything in his power to deny it to everyone else, though.”
“Would that be so bad?” Fern challenged. “This is not the guy you want standing next to you at Little League, Pea.”
I shook my head. “Could be worse. He could want the baby.”
We both shared a look. Imagine that ego maniac in any way involved with my child’s upbringing.
Looking back, I think that was where I started to color in my future around a baby. This wasn’t some abstract anymore. This was happening. In a few short months, a week to the day after my 30th birthday, I would be a mommy, responsible for a brand-new life. My Halloween baby, I thought with a grin as I subconsciously touched my stomach, thinking of how I could paint my big ol’ pregnant tummy like a jack-o-lantern.