It was obsessive, in a way, something I was more than aware of. It was also a fine line for me, to be knowledgeable about all the side effects without hyperfixating on them in a way that would spike my anxiety. But I wanted to be as educated as possible on what I was putting into my body. I couldn’t rely on anyone else to do that for me—forus.
Life was a balance of weighing outcomes. Of analyzing risks and benefits of any given course, and since I’d decided on this one, here I was.
Taking another steadying breath, I pulled my shirt up to clean an area of skin and then began to prep the needle, only to drop it when an unexpected cramp tore across my lower stomach. I doubled over, hunching from the pain.
Alarm spiked my blood flow.
Mild cramps were normal, I knew. Which was why I wasn’t concerned about the light ache in my belly this morning. But this one…this didn’t feel mild or light.
Another pulse of pain tore across my insides, and I instinctively moved to the bathroom. Not really knowing what else to do, I sat on the toilet, dropping my head into my hands, eyes squeezed shut.
Panic gripped me fully now, my stomach squeezing with turmoil. I tried to breathe, using techniques I’d learned over the years, placing a hand on my stomach and feeling it expand as I inhaled. I couldn’t remember ever being so desperate to remain calm, so as not to confuse whatever symptoms I was experiencing with the ones my stress-aware neural pathways might manifest.
But maybe it was too late.
Had my brain created this pain? Or was something wrong?
This dilemma, these questions, they weren’t new to me. But it felt critical today. Like a test of sorts. Perhaps proof that I’d be able to manage my health anxiety while pregnant.
You haven’t even taken the Lovenox yet, I reminded myself.You’re okay.
I had to be okay.
I mean, I hadn’tdoneanything yet. I’d been following all the recommendations for pregnant women. I’d been careful. I’d haddecaf, for crying out loud. And I’d beengood. I’d been scared, sure, but I hadn’t let my brain take me to scary places yet, and there was a difference. It was something I was so proud of, honestly. I was so proud that I’d handled the last month better than a younger me ever would have thought. I was here, and I was doing this, and I couldkeepdoing this, and I?—
My stomach tightened, and I gasped as tears pricked the back of my closed eyelids.
No, no, no.
I’d been doing sogood, but this morning—this morning, when it finally came time to face this medication, and this reality, and doing it all without Sully…well, worry had been brewing heavily in my gut, worsening with every minute that passed after he left, chipping away at my resolve. So maybe that was all this was. A moment of anxiousness that would pass. I’d be okay.
But then pain rippled through me again, more intense, and I forced my eyes open. And that was when I noticed that my underwear was stained with blood again.
More spotting.
More pain.
For a second, my brain quieted as I came to the realization that my amygdala had nothing to do with what was happening here. The evidence was right in front of me. Even though it was slight, even though it could be explained away…it was evidence all the same. Evidence that my prefrontal cortex used when it kicked in, piecing things together in a logical way.
Everything slotted into place for just one second of time, and a knowing settled over me. An awareness I couldn’t shake.
And then everything completely broke apart.
Including me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ellie
“ELLIE?”
The voice was distant, like it was calling to me from outside a dream.
Or a nightmare.
A door closed firmly, shaking the foundation of the house. Of the floor I was lying on, rousing me. Jolting me further into awareness.
But not enough to move. I was too exhausted, too confused, too shattered.
