Page 10 of Totally Shipped
The million dollar question.
It’s nice curled up in Killian’s arms. It’s stress-free and easy. I feel like this might be the last stress-free and easy time I have for a while. Taking a deep breath, I tell him what’s on my mind.
“So…We’ve all had a lot of worries and a lack of calories since being shipwrecked…right?”
“Sure?” He looks at me, puzzled.
I squeeze his hand. “And that can affect people in different ways. Like, for a woman that might mean that they don’t get a period.”
Killian doesn’t say anything, just nods, encouraging me to go on.
“Well the thing is, I haven’t had a period since we were shipwrecked.”
“OK.”
“And I’ve been feeling real sick the last few mornings.” I gulp, it’s a hard reality to face. “You know what they say...sick in the morning is nature's warning.”
“Oh feck! Daisy! You think you’re pregnant?”
I nod.
“Pregnant?” Killian whispers, blinking his eyes.
“I think I am and I’m freaking out.”
“No shit. Feck, macushla.” He takes me in his arms. “Pregnant. Like, there is a baby inside of you right now, that kind of pregnant?”
“Is there another kind?” I ask, tears forming in my eyes. How can this have happened? I have the birth control implant in my arm, and it’s supposed to last three years.
I got the implant two years ago…maybe two and a half.
H E double hockey sticks.
Killian starts rubbing my back in circles. “It’s OK, I’m here for you. All of us are. We’re all here for you.”
“I don’t even know how pregnant I am. And if I truly am, I guess there is a good chance I’ll miscarry as well. It’s not as though I’m pumped full of prenatal vitamins.”
“Macushla, we are going to wrap you up in cotton wool and take so much care of you. You and the baby are going to get through this perfectly, I just know it.”
I look up at him. He is obviously concerned, but there’s another gleam in his eye. “Wait! Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” he asks.
“Like you're actually a little bit happy about this disaster.”
“Aww, I can’t deny the idea of your belly filled with babies is massively exciting, even if it’s not ideal circumstances.”
“Yeah, no kidding, the circumstances aren’t ideal! I mean, I’ve always wanted children—I love kids. But having them on a deserted island with no doctors and absolutely nothing sterile… It's daunting.”
He holds me tighter. “I know. It’s terrible of me to like the idea now.” He slides a hand over my stomach. “You were vomiting a while back. Was that morning sickness?”
“Probably, but I’ve stopped actually throwing up now, thankfully.” As I press myself against his chest, my breasts go zingy, if that’s even the word.
Giving birth on this island, breastfeeding on this island—what would we use for diapers? It’s all too much!
“What are we going to do?” I whisper.
“We are going to have a baby,” he replies, amazingly calmly.
