AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Jennie just sighs at my less-than-satisfactory response, no doubt shaking her head in real life. “I’ll bet you keep it,” she said.
“You think I wouldn’t abort it? Or maybe put it up for adoption?”
“No, because either way you’d have to deal with it and that’s not exactly one of your strong suits.”
I feel my face flush a little. Jennie was always good at calling me out on my bullshit. We talk for a little longer, gossiping some more and reminiscing about the old times before cutting it off after two whole hours. Conversations with Jennie always seemed to last forever that way.
The weekend came and went by too fast and before I knew it, it was Monday. Monday brings the work rush back in full force, encapsulating everything around me. It’s busy and that’s good. I’m overloaded with task after task. So much so that I don’t even have time for lunch.
I’m thankful for it. The busier I am, the less chance I have to think about my time with Jack and how our complicated and resentful past all but dissolved as I molded into his arms. I wasn’t even drunk.
Stop it, Sarah. We need to erase him.I have done it once before. I’d needed to for my emotional health.
I finish my day accordingly and, stomach growling, I head out, looking for somewhere to eat. Surprisingly, as I walk out of my office building, no food option made my appetite rise. Even though I’m hungry, I don’t want to eat anything. Nothing I have at home sounds good, and take-out sounds even worse.
Usually, my favorite go-to is the infamous chow mein down the street, but today, as I pass by that same chow mein stall, I nearly gag at the smell. I hurry past it, hand over my mouth to escape the aroma. Looks like eating out isn’t a thing today. I can throw something together at home.
The next two weeks pass by in a blur and I notice that I’m getting sicker and sicker. The nausea is almost constantly present and my appetite is mostly nonexistent. I spend my work days working, trying not to think about my stomach, drinking tea just to have some sustenance since I can’t seem to keep anything down. And when I do try to eat, I get a strange metallic taste in my mouth.
I know I should visit a doctor at this point. I mean, feeling this bad for over a day or two is enough to raise alarms in anybody. But…I have a pretty deep distrust of hospitals and doctors, in general, so I just file it away and get through the day. Every day I say the same thing to myself.If it gets any worse, I’ll go to the doctor. I’ll probably feel better by tomorrow…
I’m this way because I was chronically ill as a child and had to spend most of my time in hospitals surrounded by doctors and nurses poking and prodding me like a science experiment. I don’t like doctors and usually, I’ll do just about anything to avoid them altogether.
“So I have only vomited two times today,” I say to Jennie into the phone. She calls about every day around my lunch hour and every day lately, she’s been asking about how I was feeling.
“Two times, huh?” Jennie says with a hint of sarcasm. “That’s progress, I guess.”
“I mean, it is, though. It’s better than it was last week.”
Jennie gives me a sort of half-mumbled affirmative. I sigh. “I don’t know why this is happening. You know, I can’t even stand the smell of some things because of this nausea,” I complain like a petulant child. Even though I know the solution to my problems—going in for a checkup—I still put off the inevitable.
PTSD is real and I hate going to the doctor.
“So here’s a thought,” Jennie says. “This might sound a little crazy, but…you know, your symptoms sound a lot like what Stacy went through….” Jennie pauses for a moment as if waiting for me to fill in the blanks. I don’t get what Stacy has to do with any of this. When I don’t respond, she sighs as if to sayyou’re just going to make me say it, huh?
“You know. Because Stacy’s pregnant?”
I freeze in place. I’m sitting at my desk, ginger tea steaming in my mug a few inches away from me, the world moving on just outside my office door…
The word is dancing around in my brain like a demented ping pong.Pregnant.
I take in a deep breath and everything seems to blend back into place around me. “Nope,” I say, shooting that idea down immediately, “Don’t even put that thought out into the universe. It’s not possible.”
“I mean,” said Jennie, “I’m not sayingyourpregnant, per se. I just think that maybe you ought to be considering all the possibilities, you know? You shouldn’t leave any page unturned.”
“Okay, but this page isn’t even in my book. It’s nowhere in any chapter or verse or anything. In fact, my book doesn’t even have pages,” I babble nervously.
“Okay, Sarah, you are not making sense right now,” Jennie says cautiously.
“I’m freaking out, Jennie,” I admit. “I…I can’t be pregnant. You have to understand that.
“Okay, okay. Let’s just rule that out right away, then,” she says. “When was the last time you had your period?”
Dread settles in my body as I think back to my previous period. “Hold on a second.” I take the phone from my ear and open my period tracking app. I wait endless milliseconds while it loads up its little flower splash screen before it gets to the calendar. When it finally does, my stomach falls into my shoes.
I was supposed to get my period around ten days ago. I feel my entire body go cold as the realization hits me. This was something I might’ve noticed before. I might’ve actually noticed it if I hadn’t been throwing myself into my work.
“I was supposed to get mine around two weeks ago,” I tell her. My voice came out as no more than a whisper.
