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13
As soon as I got back to the States, I was consumed by the beast that was the biggest country and blues festival in the USA. I stepped off my plane from Australia and onto a stage in Jackson, Alabama, for my first performance.
I was a welcome addition to the line-up and the promoters were happy with the reaction from the crowd at my performances. Everything was finally working out. Pushing down my unrelenting regret to a deeply private place, I gave my all at every show. I had something to prove. What happened back in Fairleigh hurt too much, and I couldn’t bring myself to think about it. I was determined to keep myself as busy as possible, and in the music industry, that wasn’t hard.
A month went by in a blur. If I wasn’t performing, I was doing television interviews, radio shows or messing around on my guitar in the tour bus. In any rare spare time I had, I worked on new material.
Another couple of weeks went by and the tour seemed to be taking its toll on my body. My energy levels dropped dramatically, and it wasn’t long before I was substituting writing music with nanna naps between shows. I somehow managed to oversleep and miss a couple of interviews which was totally out of character for me. I was known in the industry for my promptness and un-diva like personality, so my unreliability didn’t impress the promoters or my record label.
Rumours started spreading about my ‘partying’ lifestyle on tour, which couldn’t be further from the truth. I barely had the energy to go out after performing, let alone party it up. I was confident there was no evidence of the fact, but that never stopped the tabloids. I got the impression from Stefan that MAX Entertainment was beginning to regret taking me on.
To make matters worse, I came down with a horrible case of food poisoning. Except it didn’t seem to pass. Some days I could barely leave bed, as my world wouldn’t stop spinning. It got so bad I couldn’t perform and had to miss shows. I had never pulled out of a show in my entire career. Fans and promoters were seriously unimpressed and they too began believing the rumours.
I finally relented and called for the tour doctor. I hated doctors, but my career was on the line and I was willing to try anything he wanted to give me. Without judgement, he sat with me in the bus and began asking me all the typical medical questions. It was his last question that made my heart sink.
“When was your last period?”
I went to answer the question, but I couldn’t recall and I felt the colour drain from my face. Nausea set in and I sprinted to the bathroom in time to bring up what was left of my breakfast. Splashing water onto my pale face, I stared in the mirror, desperately trying to figure out the answer to the doctor’s simple question.
I was on the pill. That’s why I hadn’t got my period. I must have skipped the sugar tablets. I opened the bathroom cabinet and snatched up my pill packet to confirm my thoughts. But the sugar tablets were gone. So, why didn’t I get my period? I had been so preoccupied on the tour I hadn’t even noticed.
“Are you alright in there, Natalie?” the doctor called out.
“Um…yeah…yes…” I flustered and opened the bathroom door. “I guess we better do a test.”
The doctor smiled warmly and nodded, before searching through his medical bag for a pregnancy test. He handed me the little stick, and I reluctantly returned to the bathroom.
As I sat there, waiting for my moment of truth, I racked my brain. How could this have happened? I broke up with Stefan over six months ago, and I hadn’t been with anyone else except Luke. But we were careful everyti—shit. Except once. Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! I cringed at our stupidity, recalling our first time together by the river. We were in such a frenzied state we hadn’t even noticed.
The timer buzzed.
My hand trembled as I reached over to the stick sitting by the basin. I turned it over. Two lines. Two fucking lines. I started to hyperventilate.
I calmed my breathing and shuffled out of the bathroom, stick in hand.The waiting doctor looked up at me for confirmation and I nodded.
“But I’ve been taking the pill. I have barely missed a day since I was eighteen,” I told the doctor, as if it could somehow change the outcome. “I don’t understand how this can be happening.”
“The pill is 99% effective…when it is used perfectly, that is. The problem is, you’re human, and no one can be perfect 100% of the time. Have you been sick at all? Taking antibiotics or vomiting?”
I sank onto my bed and sighed. “I get sick almost every time I travel on a plane.”
The doctor pressed his lips together. “So, were you on a flight approximately four to six weeks ago?”
I swallowed, trying to sooth my dry throat. “Yeah, when I flew home to Australia.”
“And were you sick on that flight?”
I closed my eyes and sighed deeply. The doctor didn’t need to explain anymore.
* * *
The doctor gave me some information to read and told the promoter to give me a week off to rest. He didn’t tell them the reason for confidentiality purposes, but it was only a matter of time before they found out.
I spent the next few days curled up in bed. I felt numb. Just when I was getting my career back on track, the universe played a cruel joke on me. I was so angry at myself, and at Luke, for being so careless.
Picking up the pamphlets that were sitting face down on my bedside table, I finally glanced through them. It was information regarding my choices, but I remembered high school Sex Ed clearly enough to know what they were. Without a second thought, I called a Family Planning Clinic and made an appointment.
I always thought I would be married and settled before I even thought about having a child. Not while I was working so hard to get my career going again. There was no room for babies on tour. I sacrificed everything else for my career, why should this be any different?
