Everything was a little hazy, like peering through a window that had been fogged over.
‘It’s not a big deal… yet,’ I told myself.
I was 4 days late. Since my periods have never even resembled anything besides utter chaos, this wasn’t much cause for concern. Except for that night several weeks before, when he’d been drinking spiced rum and pepsi and I’d had two peach coolers, and he’d cornered me in the bathroom. Up against the wall, clothing torn off or shoved aside, both of us greedy for the taste of the other, his hands roaming and my nails digging and OHGODOHGODOHGOD OHYESYESYES!!! Amidst the panting, while my body absorbed his, came the realization that we’d been skin to skin and in his inebriated state he’d failed to pull out and oh god it had felt so good. Oh god. OH GOD. Oh shit.
‘Oh SHIT!’ At my exclamation he looked down quizzically, still weak from pleasure and all good-sex-fried-brain-ish. I moved, shifted slightly, and the light came on. Silence.
‘I won’t be easy to knock up,’ I told him frantically. Those words resounded in my head weeks later, standing in the bathroom with a pink box in my hand that claimed the ability to detect pregnancy sooner. I’d decided to do this in secret, since it was still early and this pee would be for my piece of mind. My hands shook – Ick. I washed up with my head turned to the side as the clock counted down: I wouldn’t look, I wouldn’t look, I wouldn’t look. Except I had to look, didn’t I?
Holy fuck. Ohmygod. OHMYGOD. Yes. YESYESYES!!! Oh… oh jeezus I can’t breathe and I’mknockedup and I’m going to faint holycrapI’mpregnant FINALLY oh fuck I need to sit down!!! I’m going to have a baby. I’m going to have a baby. Why am I crying? I’m going to have a baby!!!
He was on his way home, and I knew this would be one of the hardest things I’d ever done. How exactly do you tell the man who loves you that you’re accidentally pregnant? Serve him up the pee-stick for dinner? Surprise!! Guess what babe: your swimmers are Olympic champs! Big pat on the back for you!! Time to boast to all your buddies. You got me on the first shot, proved my OB/GYN wrong and… endo, what endo??
I met him at the door trembling, excitement dampened by dread. Words tumbled around in my head, and I couldn’t look him in the eyes.
‘I have something to tell you.’
‘What’s wrong baby?’
Pause. Deep breaths. I struggled to find the right words, wished that I could soften the blow, hoped desperately that he’d not be upset or angry or disappointed. I had nothing. Nothing but the white plastic stick still clenched in my fist, nothing but the word YES. I reached out blindly and offered the burden to him, silently begging him to share it with me. He looked at my hand quizzically, met my eyes, looked back down at my hand.
‘It said YES. I’m so sorry honey. It said YES.’ I didn’t know why I was apologizing, I wasn’t sorry, was I? Hell I hadn’t slammed myself up against that bathroom wall and gone after my body like I was a starving man at a buffet. Sure, I’d willingly participated. Sure, I hadn’t told him to put a raincoat on. I hadn’t said no. But he’d been right there with me, urging things on and we’re both old enough to know better. Both. Of. Us. I felt anger boil up deep inside of me. Why was he just staring at my hand? What happened to the man who, almost a month ago, told me that everything would be OK, that we’d do it together, that we’re together and everything will be fine?? Mr. Right my ass. In ten seconds, he’s going to get this thing shoved up his-
‘Is that what I think it is?’
Yep. One pee-stick enema coming right up!
‘You’re pregnant.’ Deadpan. No inflection in his voice; no excitement or even dread. Screw that, it’s going to be insert pee-stick A into idiot-stick B instead!
‘Ah, baby,’ he said, and he reached out and pulled me into his arms. I tucked myself into his body, fit myself along his torso in the spot that’s always felt as though it was made for me. Me and this new little being that was silent and invisible in my womb, that had been announced by nothing besides the word YES.
And then my eyes fluttered open, and in the darkness I could make out Mr. Right’s form laying, relaxed, beside me. My body, which only mere moments before had been filled with my future, was empty. Oh god. No. It was a dream, nothing but an awful, wonderful, horribly breathtaking dream. All of it. How am I supposed to handle this?? I was pregnant, and in the blink of an eye it was all gone. I closed my eyes to escape reality and instead I fell back into the fantastic nightmare; I saw the wonders of pregnancy, Mr. Right held me as I gave birth, we raised a beautiful baby boy and welcomed another, a girl, two years later. I lived through my very existence that night. That dream.
And then I woke up. And, again, it was all gone. There are no words. It felt like a loss, even if it’s something I didn’t actually have. One simple word and I saw my life as it might very well be.