Page 56 of Delayed Offsides

“Ha. Can I have her number? Maybe we should start some kind of club.”

He smiles again, his bright white teeth peeking out. If he wasn’t fifteen years older than me, he’d be attractive.

Setting my chart down, he reaches to his left for the ultrasound machine. “Why don’t you lie back, and we’ll see if we can hear a heartbeat?”

“Oh, okay.” And then I start in with word vomit. “I noticed some spotting this morning and wasn’t sure if that was normal.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Have you had intercourse lately?”

“Sadly, no.”

He nods, his shoulders shaking with a chuckle. I like this guy already. Sense of humor. “That’s perfectly normal in the first few weeks of pregnancy.”

I nod and stare at the ceiling when I feel him touch the inside of my thigh. “This won’t hurt, but it may be a tad uncomfortable.”

“That’s what he said.”

Dr. Sadie lets out another laugh. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m nervous.”Oh my God, shut up already!

“Perfectly normal.”

I don’t watch as Dr. Sadie places the wand inside me, moves it around, and then points to the screen. “And there’s your baby.”

I don’t know why but I get really hot. My whole body feels like it’s on fire as I stare at the blinking screen, a tiny black and white image of a little shrimp.

“That little flicker is the heartbeat. You’re almost eight weeks, so that would make your due date September twenty-third.”

A baby. I’m having a baby.

I don’t say anything as he presses another button and then hands me a picture of the frozen image on the screen.

Maybe it’s my hesitation or the lack of words, but I think he knows I’m scared.

In a caring gesture, he touches my forearm when he stands. “Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll come back in?”

I do as he says, having a slightly difficult time with all the goo from the ultrasound. I mean, really, that much lube? I didn’t even use that much the first time I had anal sex, and I used a lot! Believe me.

When he comes back in, he sits down in his chair and gives me that look. Like he’s almost afraid to say something but wants to. “So I’m guessing this baby isn’t planned.”

It isn’t a question, but it’s a motherfucking understatement.

“You have options, if you want them,” he says, sliding a pamphlet toward me.

I don’t say anything.

What options?

I’m pregnant, dude.

And he leaves it at that and walks out.

I don’t know if I want to be a mom, but I never considered not having the baby. Ever.

I may not have wanted to be a mother, but it isn’t going to stop me from being one. I can do this. I don’t need anyone to help me. I have a job, an apartment. I can most definitely do this.

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