I press my lips together and nod, understanding his meaning.
He ushers me out of the office, calling my name when I turn to head to the kitchen. “Where do you think you’re going? Get your ass outside and get the groceries,” he says stalking past me, leaving me behind as he heads to the kitchen and to tend to the groceries all on my own.
I’M PARKED AT the curb of Leah’s apartment building waiting for her to come down. Today is our first and perhaps last appointment with the doctor. Other than a few text messages back and forth and her stopping by to give me those pamphlets, we haven’t spoken much. Afraid maybe of what each other will say, so instead choosing to not say anything at all.
Walking out of the building, Leah is wearing a long flowing floral dresses but it’s not the dress itself that’s caught my attention. My eyes can’t help but drop down to her breasts because they are filling out the dress in a way they never have before. Gone are the small handfuls I touched weeks ago. In their place is something…much different. As soon as she opens the car door, I look away, not wanting to be caught staring at her chest.
“Hi,” she says, putting on her seat belt.
“Hey,” I respond still looking ahead.
I pull away from the curb and we drive in silence, not even the radio is turned on. After several blocks, I can’t stand it anymore.
“How was your day?” I ask before inwardly cringing at how lame that sounded. Conversations between us have never been forced. I’ve never had to resort to asking her about her day or talk about the weather. This is the same girl I used to tell everything to, but I can’t help but feel like she’s someone I barely even know right now.
“Okay, I guess,” she says quietly, looking out the window. Another few moments of silence pass before she speaks again. “I told everyone I had a dentist appointment.”
My heart squeezes at her tone. She sounds ashamed. I hate that she feels that way. I hate that I understand it, sympathize with it, because I feel it too.
“Until we figure things out, no one has to—”
“Did you read those pamphlets?” she asks abruptly, now looking my way.
I swallow and nod once. “Yeah, a few.”
Truth is, I only read the titles of two of them before shoving them in a drawer. I told myself I’d get back to them when I was ready. I never did.
“Good,” she nods.
Good.
Her word choice sticks out in my mind for the next few minutes as we once again ride in silence.
Good.
“So, is that what you’re leaning towards?” I ask delicately.
She looks back out the window, seemingly unable to face me. “I don’t know,” she whispers. I can only hear her because it’s so damn quiet in the car. “Maybe.”
When I don’t say anything in return, she turns in her seat, fully facing me. “I’ve worked so hard to get to where I am, Shane. So hard to get into law school, to be hired by this firm. I’ve only been there for a short period of time. What would they say?”
“I’d hope they’d be understanding—supportive,” I answer her back, hearing myself get a little defensive.
“Easy for you to say. Your job lets you get up and go whenever you please. You don’t have the same expectations to meet, or play on the same field against the kind of players I do. It’s not your body, your time, your life—”
“Of course it’s my life!” I snap, angry she could think none of this would affect me. “I’m in this too! We did this together. We are in this together!”
Surprised by my outburst, she falls silent and looks out the window once again. As much as I hate seeing her sad and scared and worried, it felt good to get some of those things off my chest. To at least start talking about this, vent the frustrations over the growing silence that’s come between us.
“It’s not the same,” I hear her whisper, mostly to herself.
My hands tighten around the wheel, knuckles becoming white. I don’t say anything more and just continue to drive.
WE ARRIVE AT the doctor’s office and sign in with reception. I pick up a magazine for something to do but put it right back down when I see it’s filled with pictures of babies. All the others are similar so I’m left to sit and stare ahead, waiting to be called in. Luckily, the wait isn’t too long and we are called in after a few minutes.
We’re shown into an examination room and I’m bombarded with posters of the female body depicted at every angle. Front, side, back, inside. I’m positive one of them is upside down. Leah takes a seat on the medical examination table, the paper sheet crinkling under her legs. Beside her sits a massive machine with a screen attached to it. At the side are different attachments that look like long vibrators.
What the hell happens in this room?
I turn away from the sex toys to where a poster on the opposite wall catches my eye. It’s entitled Your Baby’s Growth. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop myself—I skim each section until I find the week Leah guessed she was at. Eight weeks, or close to, she said.
I remember thinking how that didn’t make sense. We didn’t have sex two months ago. She went on to explain how pregnancy is calculated and it only confused me more. Honestly, after that conversation, I was never happier to have been born with a penis.
I stare at the image associated with a pregnancy at eight weeks. I’m surprised to see it already has a formed head and parts of a body. I envisioned something more like a bean. No human characteristics, just a blob. But there it is, in front of me. I close my eyes, unable to look at it any longer. When I turn, I see Leah’s been watching me, unease showing all over her face.
I want to comfort her, tell her everything is going to be all right, that no matter what, I’m here for her. But now, when I look at her, all I see is that image from the wall behind me.
The door behind me opens and I sigh in guilty relief, knowing I’ve been spared having to find any comforting words.
“Hello, I’m Doctor Sigh,” she says walking over to Leah first, offering her hand.
“Hi,” Leah answers. “Thank you for seeing us.”
“Of course,” she says before smiling at me in acknowledgment.
She’s younger than I expected. Early to mid-thirties I’d guess. I return her smile and take a seat on the chair in the corner. She turns back to Leah.
“I understand we are here to discuss options.”
Leah only nods, sending a quick glance my way.
“Alright,” the doctor starts. “Why don’t we start with some basic questions first. When was the first day of your last period?”
“I don’t have the exact date. Eight weeks or so.”
Dr. Sigh nods before writing the information down. “Have you ever been pregnant before?”
“No.”
“Are you experiencing any symptoms? Nausea? Cramping? Bleeding?”
“Just some breast tenderness. And they’re a little swollen.”
A little?
“Good,” she says, taking a few more notes. Then she wheels a stool over and takes a seat. “I understand you’ve been given some literature about the different options that are available to you. Both of you,” she says, bringing me into the conversation. “Have you had a chance to discuss it?”
“A little.”
“Not really.”
We both answer at the same time.
Silence falls over the room for a few seconds as Dr. Sigh’s eyes dart from me then back to Leah.
“It’s a big decision,” she says. “Unplanned pregnancies are scary, sometimes creating complications for the couple—”
“We aren’t a couple,” Leah states.
The doctor looks to me once more and I immediately feel uncomfortable—like I’m being judged, like she thinks I was forced here kicking and screaming. I want to tell her none of what she’s thinking is true, but I remain silent, locking my jaw in place.
“Well, you’re both here now,” she says, smiling at Leah. “Since every woman’s cycle is
different, I’d like to perform an ultrasound so I can assess how far along you are. It will help us better understand your options and the best course of action to take, no matter what you decide. Would that be all right?”
Leah seems a little stunned but nods in agreement.
“I’ll wait outside,” I say standing, ready to give her some privacy.
“No!” Leah blurts out.
I stop instantly, waiting for her to continue.
“Please stay,” she says, almost pleading.
“Okay,” I say, taking a few steps towards her.
The doctor hands Leah a paper sheet and instructs her to pull up her dress and remove her underwear.
“I thought you do this on the stomach,” I say, confused.
The doctor types a few things into the machine before grabbing one of the vibrators. “Because it is early, we do a transvaginal ultrasound. Helps us get a better look at the fetus.”
Fetus? Something about that word doesn’t sound right.
Leah shimmies out of her panties, stuffing them into her bag before lying down on the table. Her feet go up in the stirrups and she lays the paper sheet over top of them. Once she’s settled, I feel her intertwine her fingers with mine, holding tight, like she’s hanging on to me for safety. The heat from her palm, the softness of her fingers, make my heart beat a little faster. Or maybe it’s because I’ve never been more nervous of anything in my entire life.
The overhead lights turn off and the doctor squeezes some gel over the vibrator before covering it with a condom.
Christ, it is a sex toy.
“Okay, Leah, just take a deep breath,” she instructs before the wand disappears under paper sheet. Leah’s squeezes my fingers even tighter and I cover it with my other hand, bringing it to my lips.
I see the doctor playing around with the machine, pressing buttons. A picture even prints out. But she doesn’t offer to let us see anything or show us the picture. I suppose it’s for the best. Best not to look, not to see, not get attached. I look up at the clock in the room and pray for the minutes to pass faster. To let this be done and over with. I’m sure Leah feels the same.
“I read somewhere that by eight weeks you can see the heartbeat,” Leah says out of nowhere.
My head snaps back towards her.
“That’s true,” the doctor replies, glancing in our direction.
“Can…you see it?” she asks.
Comb, what are you doing? Why are you asking these questions? Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t do this to me. Not if you’ve already made up your mind.
I want to cover her mouth, stop her from talking, from us learning too much. It will only make everything so much more difficult. I want to tell her all this but my mouth stays frozen, too dry to speak.
“I can,” Dr. Sigh says. She looks at us. “Would you like to see?”
No, Leah! Tell her no!
“Yes,” she answers, her voice shaking.
Finally, I find my voice, but it’s incredibly strained. “Comb…”
But it’s too late. The doctor is already swinging the machine in our direction, pointing to a spec on the screen. “It’s hard to tell, but this is the gestational sac, and that little blip right there is the heartbeat.”
I have no idea what a gestational sac is, but I did understand the word heartbeat. She was right when she said it was hard to tell but I do see the blip. It’s blinking fast, like you would when you’re trying to get dust out of your eye. I even try counting the blinks but they happen so quick, I can’t keep up.
“Is it supposed to beat that fast?” I ask, suddenly worried.
Dr. Sigh nods. “Yes. It means it’s strong.”
I have to pry my eyes away from the screen to look at Leah. She too is having a hard time looking away. Her body shifts just the smallest amount, getting closer to the machine. Like she feels that’s the only way to get close to it, even though what we are looking at is inside her. She starts to bring her fingers to the screen but stops herself halfway.
And that’s when I see it happen—a lone tear falling from her eye and down her cheek. I know then her decision is made. She didn’t even have to tell me because I saw it happen. I see it in the way her lips open just a touch, the way her face relaxes for the first time in days.
“I’m having a baby,” Leah says between tears and a small laugh.
That laugh makes me feel weak in the knees and I can’t help but smile back. Decision made. No going back. My father’s words replay in my mind. How nothing will prove me more of a man than how I conduct myself right now. He’s right. Time to be a man.
“No, Comb,” I say kissing her hand again. “We’re having a baby.”
“SO YOU GUYS are actually doing this?” Bryan asks, sipping his beer. He’s the only one at the full table still with a hint of disbelief. “I mean…a baby. You two.” He points with a finger. “How fucked up is that?”
Fucked up? I don’t know…maybe.
Surprising? Definitely.
I think I’m more surprised about the pregnancy itself than who the baby daddy is. If anything, Shane being the father is the one calming piece I have to this entire situation.
“You guys do realize you can’t give it back after, right?” Bryan asks, somewhat seriously.
“You’re an idiot,” I hear Holly answer for us all.
“Hey, I just want them to realize this is a lifetime gig. Don’t shoot the messenger.” He holds up his hands.
It’s two weeks later on a Friday night and we’re sitting around a table at the same bar where this all started having drinks. Just like we would have done any Friday night before the news broke to our friends. Only tonight, we aren’t listening to Holly and Eddy discuss the wedding like we have been, or Bryan making comments about some girl at the bar. Tonight, the hot topic of discussion has been all about the baby.
“We’ve taken it under consideration,” Shane says, sipping his beer. “Thanks for the warning though.”
“Just saying,” Bryan answers.
I look at Shane and see the small smirk hidden behind his glass. He glances in my direction and he gives me a wink, back to his good old relaxed self. I look around the table, to our friends, to the bar, the street outside. Life around me hasn’t changed at all but I could not be living in a more different world.
For instance, in front of me is a glass of ginger ale instead of beer. And let’s not forget that my boobs won’t stop itching and my jeans are digging into my stomach more than they ever have. And for some reason I can’t get over a craving for vinegar. All of this so painfully obvious to me, but to my friends they’re all blissfully unaware. They’re all still merrily drinking, Holly’s jeans don’t seem to be bugging her one bit and none of them have even thought about food. What I wouldn’t give for some French fries right now.
“I think it’s great!” Holly says cheerily.
When I told her my decision to keep the baby, she was…surprised. Only because she’s heard the same arguments I told Shane over and over. But when I explained what happened in the doctor’s office, seeing that little heartbeat a mile a minute, I couldn’t not have this baby. I felt my own heart start to beat faster too, trying to match the one on the screen. It’s not something I could explain while giving it justice. It’s too strong a feeling to put into words. I think that’s what actually made her understand, that I couldn’t explain the overwhelming feeling I had in the doctor’s office. It was too large to define.
Then and there I wanted nothing more than to protect that little heart and make sure it stayed safe. I wanted it to only become bigger and stronger. I wanted it to grow healthy and happy. I wished for wishes I had never made before. And I wanted to be the one to make them possible. It happened so quickly and without warning. I looked at Shane to try and explain but he already knew. He saw it happen. He didn’t argue or question my decision. He simply accepted the life-long responsibility I had just put on him.
Holly cried, which is rare, but then immediatel
y went into questioning and planning mode.
When are you going to tell the firm?
What are yours and Shane’s plans?
Have you thought of names?
All valid questions, none of which I had answers to. Still don’t.
It’s been two weeks since Shane and I had that appointment. Two weeks since I made the decision to change our lives. Two weeks since we’ve tried to get back to our regular schedules. That’s not to say we haven’t talked about it at all. Shane’s been great about calling and texting every day, seeing how I’m feeling, asking about morning sickness, whether it was getting better or worse. Thankfully, I wasn’t hit too hard with it and it only lasted a very short period of time. But we’ve only discussed the logistics, the medical aspects of the pregnancy. We haven’t really discussed what having a baby means for us.
That’s the only really fucked up part of this whole situation. Not that we are having a baby, but that we haven’t talked about us having a baby.
Sooner or later that will have to change. It will get harder and harder to push it aside, especially once I start to show. And considering how uncomfortable I already feel in these jeans, it can’t be too long from now.
“Have you told your parents yet?” Eddy asks, stirring his drink with his straw.
All eyes at the table fall on Shane. I don’t have the greatest relationship with my own mother and I don’t expect her to be a big help or show too much enthusiasm. Not unless that baby comes out gifting her with a bottle of booze. I had to learn the hard way I wouldn’t be able to count on her for much growing up. But I refuse to spend time feeling bad for myself about it. It made me who I am today and I’m proud of it. It got me to where I am all on my own. It was hard, but worth it. It’s also the one thing I want to make sure this child never has to go through.
Shane’s parents are a different story.
I love his parents and they’ve always been very welcoming of me. Once Shane and I became close, never did I have to spend another holiday alone in my apartment again. Able and Charlotte Carlisle always ensured there was a spot for me at the table. They’ve invited me to their house in Georgia many times and I adore them for that. Able even gave me my first internship at his firm within their small legal department. Having that on my resume definitely helped get me where I am today.
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