“Hey, Carolyn,” Dani whispers as she tiptoes out of her room. “I’m going to Target. Do you need anything?”
I shake my head. Dani moved in after my old roommate moved out, and I hardly noticed because I haven’t been around much. But it’s going well. My friend is clean and considerate and I appreciate that, even if I’ve been at Preston’s most of the time.
“No, I’m okay. Thanks, girlfriend.” Then I let out an ugly-sounding burp to both of our surprise.
“That sounds bad, Carebear. Do you need some medication?” she asks with a concerned look. I sigh. I’ve been feeling nauseated lately, and my buddy knows I’ve been struggling.
“No, I’m good. Well actually, some seltzer water would be great, thanks.”
She frowns. “Yeah, but it’s been a week of big Yoda burps, Carolyn. I really think you should see a doctor if you’re still not feeling well.”
I shrug and smile benevolently. “No, it’s fine. The nausea never lasts long, and usually dissipates by early afternoon. I think I might just be developing lactose intolerance or something, although sorry for the gross-sounding belches.”
She laughs while waving a hand.
“Well then, you should probably lay off the ice cream,” she says. “Too much good stuff makes Carolyn a very sick girl!”
I smile and wave as Dani departs, but as soon as the door slams shut, I bolt for my room. My face is hot and my head swirling because this isn’t lactose intolerance; it’s something else and I have a sinking suspicion of what it could be. Quickly, I yank open the drawer of my nightstand and pull out an ancient pregnancy test still in its box.
OMG, is this really happening? With trembling fingers, I pull out the directions and my eyes scan the words. Okay, seems simple enough. Just pee on the stick and wait.
In the bathroom, I follow the instructions and then begin to pace in the small space. Three minutes. It only takes three minutes to know the results, but time is dragging on as slow as can be. I wish Preston were here, because he always makes me feel calmer, but what if he freaks out? What if he doesn’t want to be a dad in his fifth decade of life? What if Zora is the perfect daughter, and he’s absolutely opposed to having another child?
Oh god. I press my hands in my face as my shoulders slump. Of course, Preston knows that I’ve been feeling ill occasionally because sometimes I burp at his apartment. Still, I haven’t been sick enough to miss work, so we both just chalked it up to the lactose issue.
I pace in the bathroom, my steps becoming frenzied. A minute and a half, now. Almost there. I can do this.
Suddenly, my phone buzzes loudly in the small space and I grab it while staring at the screen. Evidently, Dani’s already at Target and has sent me a photo of a pregnancy test.
Sure you don’t need 1 of these? LOL.
OMG, how did she read my mind? However, I can’t let on. Instead, I text back a lighthearted response making light of the situation. What do I do? I’ve always wanted children, and I love Preston, but this situation is not ideal. I’m a scooper at a Frosty Freeze, and I’m only twenty-four too. Am I really ready to be a mom?
When the timer on my phone beeps, I whip around and stare at the indicator lying on the sink. Two pink lines stare back at me and with shock, I crumple to the tiled floor.
It’s positive. I’m pregnant. What do I do?
My heart starts to race so fast I feel dizzy with anxiety, but I force myself to take a few deep breaths while plunging my head between my knees for more oxygen. Panicking won’t do me any good, and it can’t be good for the baby either.
What will Preston think? He’s almost fifty years old. Would he even want another child? My thoughts are going around in circles and tears spring to my eyes. None of this is helpful, but I’m at a loss for next steps. After all, my boyfriend has already raised a child, my good friend Zora. What if he doesn’t want to do it again?
Stop Carolyn, I admonish myself. Get off the carousel of unhelpful thoughts and just focus for a moment. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and try to find a center amid all this madness. Nothing happens for a few minutes, but then a growing certainty forms in my mind. I know I want this baby. Maybe he or she was unexpected, but I’ve always wanted to be a mom, and this child was conceived in love because I’m in love with its father. Is that so wrong?
After all, yes, we were careful about using protection, but no contraception is one hundred percent perfect. Not only that, but sometimes things got so passionate that we plain forgot. It’s irresponsible and no excuse whatsoever, but it’s the truth. I’m in love with the billionaire and let him come in me a few times, raw and real, and it was absolutely wonderful.