Page 4 of Before I Loved You

How do you even take care of a baby?

Are they like pets that can care for themselves while you go to work and school?

Can I do this alone?

What am I going to do?

I pinch the bridge of my nose, a throbbing headache forming with each question assaulting me one after the other, and I can’t make them stop.

Deep breath. You’ll figure this out. You always do.

I stand and turn to the side, looking in the mirror. So far, there’s no baby bump. At this stage, not a soul would even know I’m pregnant, but I wonder how long I have until a bump does show because I need time to figure everything out.

My hand rests on my flat stomach, hoping to feel something that will give me a sign, but even I know it’s too early.

I let my hand fall to my side as I make my way out of the bathroom and into my bedroom. My textbooks are stacked on my desk, ready for my first day of classes as a junior next week at Linrey University. My new paints remain bagged in the corner of my room, waiting for inspiration to find me. And the terrifying pile of bills on my dresser makes my stomach plummet. But maybe that’s just the pregnancy and not the impending doom looming over me.

Up until this point, I’ve been able to get by financially. Get by meaning I have a roof over my head and food in my belly. I have a decent apartment thanks to my small trust fund, I received academic scholarships that covered most of my school expenses, and I’ve worked for as long as I can remember to cover any and all necessities, never needing much.

But my trust fund is almost depleted, and getting by isn’t going to be enough with a baby on the way.

There’s diapers and formula and bottles and toys and a crib and…

Breathe!

I rest my hands on my chest, the intense spike of my heartbeat concerning me as I take a deep breath, trying to figure out what step one should be.

As long as I make a game plan and don’t let anything mess with this plan, then everything will be fine.

Everything will be fine.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I reach for Teddy, hugging him tightly against my chest. The poor guy has seen better days. His once bright beige sherpa fabric has dulled out with several little stains. One of his eyes hangs on by a thread. Literally. And the pink bow around his neck has a few splits at the end, the fabric fraying. He’s not much to look at, but he’s my teddy bear.

My teddy bear that has been with me through the good and the bad of the past twelve years.

Even if the bad days have outweighed the good ones.

He’s always been here for me.

And yes, I know he’s an inanimate object, but…he’s all I have.

Placing Teddy back in his spot in the center of my bed, I straighten my shoulders and take a deep breath.

I guess step one should be to make an appointment at a doctor’s office to confirm whether I am pregnant or not. Maybe that stupid stick was lying to me, and I’m worrying over nothing.

Quickly, I take my phone out of my pocket and call to make an appointment nearby. The receptionist informs me that they’ll be able to see me in an hour, which is great. The sooner, the better. And then I’m sure they’ll tell me I’m not pregnant, and everything will go back to normal.

But what if they do tell me I’m pregnant?

Then what?

I chew on my black-painted thumbnail, contemplating this.

It will be so embarrassing to admit to people that I don’t even know who the father is.

He was just some guy at the right place at the right time.

Some guy who was the perfect distraction.

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