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“Or maybe I am only in it for the potential sex. I hear pregnant women get pretty horny.”
My ears perk up, and he has my full attention. I close my eyes and lick those lips that hold his focus. “Where’d you hear that?”
He chews his bottom lip to refrain from laughing. “I
have no idea.”
“There may be some perks to this after all.”
“You mean besides the part where you get to partake in one of the greatest joys of human existence and become a parent?”
“Yeah, besides that. I was thinking along the lines of how I’m about to tear apart my body and push a large object out of a small part of my anatomy and potentially alter its appearance forever, so a little extra sexual energy is, well, a perk.”
“You are one of a kind.” Nathan leans forward, palms the back of my head like a basketball, and yanks me closer to deliver a swift kiss to my forehead.
The move sends chills skittering across my skin that I try to hide by giving a sudden stretch. I move a little too quick and clock him right beneath his chin.
“Shit!” He relinquishes his hold to cradle the injury.
“Oh crap, sorry! Let me grab you some ice!” I jump to my feet. The room spins, more than likely from dehydration and remnants of morning sickness over the past few days. I teeter and plunge off balance into Nathan.
The extra weight proves to be too much for the ancient table. With a resounding crack, the leg gives out, and we topple to the floor in a heap of tangled limbs and curses. An elbow impacts my cheek, and my knee connects with his manhood. Nathan releases a pained grunt.
He lies motionless on his back on my living room carpet with a forearm thrown across his face and my body draped across his chest. I don’t want to move for fear of maiming him again.
“Well, if you’re worried about the remaining potency of your swimmers, I already have you covered.”
He lifts his elbow off his eyes to glare at me and then drops it back down.
“Should I still get the ice?”
He pulls his other arm off the floor and holds up two fingers. “Make it two,” he grunts. I bite my lip to stifle a laugh. Using a bit more care, I extricate my limbs from his and fill some baggies with ice from the freezer.
This evening took a couple of turns I didn’t expect. Our talk was uncomfortable, but I’m relieved we got some of it out of the way before we get further into this. If he questioned paternity later in the pregnancy, I don’t know how I’d handle it.
Now I just have to figure out the best way to break it to my parents.
7
Kiersten
A laboring mother may defecate, or poop, during the delivery process. But don’t worry! This is normal, and your nursing team has seen it all…
Nope.
I close the baby book Cami handed off to me at work last week and toss it on the floor. Now that my coffee table’s been decimated, I don’t have anywhere to put things when I’m sitting on the couch. A dirty book like that belongs on the floor anyway with other dirty things. I shiver, and not the good kind, at the thought of doing that in a room full of people.
My nerves ratchet up today as I wait for my first prenatal appointment. Four weeks have passed sluggishly since we found out the news. Nathan’s on shift today, so he isn’t sure if he’ll make it. He’ll try to dip out of work for the thirty minutes or so it’s supposed to take if calls are slow.
The appointment itself isn’t what has my stomach performing acrobatic flips, and I won’t hold it against him if he doesn’t show. The official confirmation of the pregnancy makes anxiety flare inside me. If everything looks good today, we’ve decided to tell our families this weekend. That’s the part that really has me wanting to poop my pants.
After drinking what feels like a gallon of water at the doctor’s request, I make the short drive over to the clinic, located on the south side of the county hospital, and get checked in.
I fiddle with my phone and bounce my knee, regretting not asking Nathan to find coverage or take an extended lunch break now that I’m here. My nerves sizzle like live wires beneath the surface of my skin. After a mere five minutes in the waiting room, a nurse in pink scrubs calls my name. I follow her to get weighed, have my vitals taken, and answer a lot of invasive questions.
Do you know the date of your last period?
How many alcoholic beverages do you drink in a week?
