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Obviously my good fortune (ha!) couldn’t last. I was happily wallowing in my misery, content to be left alone, when total chaos ruined my plans.
Yesterday, Cordelia came to see me and started making plans for me to be seen by a doctor. I thought she meant a head-doctor, until she stared pointedly at my still-flat stomach.
Oh, yeah, that. Sounds crazy to say that I’d almost forgotten my situation.
Anyway, she thinks I should be checked out. Find out how far along in the pregnancy I am…that sort of thing. But I’m reluctant. I don’t want to, because it will somehow make it all real. And I’m not ready for that.
The last thing I wanted or expected was to get pregnant at this age, but I am. And I know I have to deal with that sooner or later, but as I said to Cordelia - there’s no rush. It isn’t going anywhere. It’ll still be there after the summer. Specifics can wait. I’m pregnant, yes, and a baby will come...but there’s plenty of time.
I think she was pretty pissed at me, even though she let it go, because as she was leaving she turned to me and told me that Baxter would be arriving tomorrow. It felt like a dagger thrown at me; a way to wound me and kick me when I’m down. She knows how I feel about him, and it’s like she took joy in causing me pain, just because I disagreed with her over something.
Baxter.
Shit.
