Page 42 of Screwed

I palm them, weighing them in my hands. Maybe they are a little bigger. I’ve gained some weight in the last few weeks so it could just be because of that.

I’ve been nauseous and tired but that could be so many things. It doesn’t mean that I’m pregnant.

But I don’t have a fever…

I let out a groan and check the timer on my phone. I still have another thirty seconds and I sit down on the toilet to wait.

What would my life even be like if I was pregnant? Am I ready to be a mom?

I try to picture waking up in the middle of the night for feedings and to change diapers.

Would I still be able to run my store? I have some savings so I can take some maternity leave. I’d have to hire a babysitter or take the baby with me when I go to flea markets or garage sales looking for new pieces.

Would Arlo want to be a dad? I feel like the answer is yes but we haven’t been together for very long. We haven’t even said that we love each other and now we might have to raise a kid together?

I groan as I think about telling my parents that I’m pregnant. I know just what they’ll say and I’d like to avoid that conversation at all costs. Maybe I wouldn’t even need to tell them. Surely, I can hide a baby bump and a baby from them. It’s not like we talk that often and they almost never visit.

The timer goes off and I jump up off of the toilet seat. I have to dry my hands off on my dress skirt before I stop the timer. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes and trying to calm my racing heart before I open them and look at the test.

Two pink lines.

My breath wheezes out of my lungs and I scramble to check the instructions to see what that means.

Be negative, be negative.

Two pink lines means… Positive.

It’s positive.

I suck in a sharp breath and slide down the bathroom wall until I’m sitting on the ground.

“Oh my god,” I whisper. “Oh, my fucking god.”

My hands find my stomach and I stare blankly at the bathroom vanity as I think about what this means.

I’m pregnant. I’m going to have a baby. I’m going to be a mother.

I’m going to have to tell Arlo that we’re about to be parents.

I close my eyes and rest my head back against the bathroom wall as I try to calm my racing thoughts.

“Good news?” Madelyn asks quietly and I open my eyes to see her sliding down the wall next to me.

“It was positive,” I tell her, my voice coming out hoarse. “I’m pregnant.”

“That’s good, right?” She asks, her shoulder bumping against mine.

“I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. “Arlo and I just started dating. Are we really ready for this? Are we really ready to be parents?”

“I think so. You’re committed to each other. You love each other.”

“We haven’t said it to each other,” I interrupt her and she just rolls her eyes.

“But you do love each other. Things might be happening a little ahead of schedule.”

“A little ahead of schedule?” I blurt out, staring at her with wide eyes. “We just started dating. We were years away from this, if ever!” I insist.

“You can’t control everything,” she singsongs and I roll my eyes.

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