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I know I'm pregnant. I have known since the clinic appointment. Somehow, though, seeing an actual obstetrician makes it all too real.
At home, I read all the material she gave me. I see some book recommendations and do an Amazon order for those. She also provided me some phone numbers for Lamaze classes. Do women still go to those? Shows you how much I know about being a mother.
I start reading the pamphlet about risks and what to watch for during pregnancy that might be a concern. I start to get scared at some of the things they mention. Placenta eruption? Sounds horrible. I hope that I'm not doing this whole baby thing alone. I pray that Aaron takes the news well and participates, even if he no longer wants to see me. If it weren't for me, he would not have invited me to Orlando, andwewould not be pregnant.
I read that stress is not suitable for the baby, so I download some meditation apps on my phone and try to listen to them at night to help me sleep. I also get headphones so that when the baby can hear me, I can play some of my songs. I'm starting to feel close to this little guy or girl. I always wanted kids someday in the future. I hope I'm not raising this one alone.
***
I've been avoiding Aaron's calls for a while now because I'm afraid I'll slip up and tell him about the baby. I want to keep the baby, but what if Aaron thinks we shouldn't? What about my career? What about Aaron's career? The baby was conceived during a poorly made decision to lie about being engaged. What if I keep it, and Aaron doesn't want to be a father? What will I do then? Will keeping it force him into fatherhood when he's not ready? What if he wants the baby, and I decide I don't? I'm driving myself insane with all the questions.
I decided to throw myself into my work instead. Work has always been a safe space for me. We are completing the first half of my client's album before the premiere debut. I can shove all my feelings and emotions into my writing. I'm writing so many lyrics my client has jokingly asked me to slow down. I'm pouring my heart into every song to stay sane until I see Aaron at the premiere.
Oh no, the premiere. The doctor warned me my weight was a bit high, but my clothes still fit, albeit tight around the waist. I need a dress to hide my weight gain and bloating. I am still determining when I'll have the time to shop for one when we are trying to meet the deadline for her album.
I'm staring off into space when I see a hand appear in front of my eyes. I blink and look over at my client, whose eyebrows are raised with concern.
"You okay?" she asks.
"Oh, yeah, sure," I say, scribbling some notes.
"Hmm, I think you're hiding something." She smiles at me.
I panic. I have yet to tell Mary about the news. Am I showing already?
"Oh, I'm just nervous about my fiancé's premiere. We haven't seen each other in a while, and it seems we haven't been good about keeping in touch. We both have been super busy."
She nods in understanding, but I see the doubt on her face.
"So, what do you think about this lyric here?" I ask her to throw her off the scent.
I can tell she wants to ask more questions, but I'm not ready yet to open up about what is happening in my life.
"Oh, I like that. Let's change this word here, though. I think it sounds better, don't you?"
I say the lyrics under my breath with the word change and agree. I make the change, and we go on.
"Earth to Erica," she says, and I realize I've zoned out again.
"I'm so sorry. What was the question?"
My client smiles at me and stands up.
"How about we take a break, and you tell me what's on your mind? I think we will work faster and more efficiently if you share what you're struggling with with me."
I look at her and realize she is right. My mind is not here, and I can't keep zoning out on her when we are so close to finishing.
We go down to the little coffee shop at the end of the block and find a quiet table away from prying ears.
"Okay, spill," she says, taking a sip of her cappuccino, setting the cup down softly.
I toy with my raspberry white mocha, looking everywhere but at her. Then, I blurt it out, "I'm pregnant."
I expect shock or judgment. Surprisingly, I see empathy.
"Tell me more." She has a certain way about her that makes people want to talk.
I noticed that early on, and I appreciated it about her. Now that it's me she is prodding, it may be too good of a skill for her to have.
