Page 18 of Curve Ball
Gael would have turned into another Marco, tearing me down and breaking my heart, because I’m not good enough.
I never have been.
My stomach churns with that thought, and I rush to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before I’m sick.Great, just what I needed—a stomach bug to add to my list of problems. I stand at the sink and splash water on my face, taking deep breaths to calm my nausea. It isn’t until I make eye contact with myself in the mirror that I realize something—my period is late.
Really late.
No, no, no.
I took the Plan B.
Grabbing his sweatshirt that I still wear, my phone, and keys, I rush out the door. The pharmacy down the block is dead inside and to avoid drawing attention to myself and the situation I’m in, I find the pregnancy tests without too much trouble. I grab five, just to be sure, and head to the counter. The woman behind the counter gives me a sympathetic smile, and I can feel my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. I pay and rush out, my heart pounding in my chest.
Back at home, I take the first test, setting the timer and pacing the bathroom floor like a caged animal. When the time is up, I look down at the test, and my world shatters. Positive. I take the second, third, fourth, and then the fifth.
All positive.
I’m pregnant.
“Fuck,”I whisper to myself, panic taking over, tears welling up in my eyes, and I slide down to the floor, my back against thebathroom cabinet. How could I let this happen? Gael and I, we got carried away, and now here I am, pregnant with his child. A child I’m not sure I’m ready for, a child that ties me to a man who could very well end up breaking my heart.
What am I going to do?The question echoes in my mind, a relentless drumbeat that drowns out all other thoughts. I can’t keep the baby and raise it alone—I know that much. But I also know that I can’t bring myself to end the pregnancy. It’s a life, a life that Gael and I created together, and it deserves a chance.
I think about Gael, about the way he made me feel, the way he looked at me like I was the most beautiful woman in the world. He said he wanted more, that what we had was special. But is it enough? Is he enough? Can I trust him not to turn into another Marco, not to break my heart and shatter my world?
And while he said he wanted to see where we could go with this, I doubt he meant having a baby together.
Two weeks later,I find myself at an OB/GYN appointment, confirming the pregnancy. The doctor is kind, her voice soft as she explains that Plan B’s efficacy goes down significantly when you are over one hundred and seventy-five pounds.Well, I’m definitely over that so I guess the more voluptuous girls get the short end of the stick yet again.So she discusses the next steps, how she needs to do an ultrasound to confirm dates and to make sure the pregnancy is viable. She lays out all the things I need to change now that I’ve determined I’m keeping the baby. I nod along, trying to absorb the information, but my mind is elsewhere, stuck on the fact that I’m having a baby by myself.
I haven’t told anyone about what’s been happening with me. I’m doing this completely alone and I know I don’t have to.Which is stupid because my best friend is pregnant for Christ’s sake and we could totally do this together. I know I would have her support. The cold ultrasound gel sits on my stomach as the doctor moves the wand around, then lets me know she has to switch to the internal probe because it’s still too early. I’m hit with a pang of longing.
Longing for Gael, for the life we could have together, for the family we could build.
But then the negative thought hits me.
Why would he want to have a baby with you?
“There you are! Do you want to see your baby, Adriana?”
Suddenly, there it is—a tiny blob on the screen, my baby.Our baby.Tears well up in my eyes, and I blink them back, trying to hold it together. The doctor points out the heartbeat, a rapid flutter that fills the room with a sense of awe and wonder.
“They are perfect. Measuring right on track. You’re measuring about ten weeks.”
Five magical orgasms and now a baby.
And then, as if in divine intervention, my phone buzzes. I glance over at the ultrasound screen, at the tiny life growing inside me, and pick up my phone. It’s a text from Gael.
Gael
Adri, I know I’m probably driving you crazy with these texts, but I can’t help it. Please, just let me know you’re okay.
My heart aches as I read his words. I want to respond, to tell him I’m okay, to tell him about the baby, but the fear in my heart holds me back.What if he’s not ready for this? What if he doesn’t want the baby, doesn’t want me? What if he turns into another Marco, and I’m left to pick up the pieces of my shattered heart and then my child’s broken heart?
I can’t do that to them.
I set the phone down, my eyes fixed on the ultrasound screen. Our baby. A part of Gael and a part of me, growing together, depending on me to make the right choices. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. The doctor finishes the ultrasound, printing out a few pictures for me to take home. I thank her, my voice barely above a whisper, and head out, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.
As I walk to my car, I pull out my phone, Gael’s text still open. I start to type a response, my fingers trembling slightly.
