Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“And here’s your uterus.” She continues describing what she’s seeing, but still, she could be showing me the inside of my kitchen pipes and I wouldn’t know the difference.
“And this little bean right here is your baby.”
White noise pierces my ears and time stands still as I silently repeat the words your baby in my head.
My baby? My uterus really has a baby inside it?
I strain my eyes, trying to understand what I’m seeing, but all I can make out is the tiny bean shape she’s pointing at.
“And that little flutter right there is your baby’s heartbeat,” she announces with a soft smile. The nurse steps forward to click something on the machine, and just like that, the sounds of a galloping horse echo inside the small exam room. “One-hundred-and-fifty beats per minute. Perfect.”
That’s my baby. Tears threaten to prick my eyes, but I blink past the emotion and stare at the little fluttering spot inside the tiny bean.
“Congratulations, Katy. I’d say you’re about six weeks along.”
“Six weeks?”
“This baby was probably conceived somewhere around March twenty-third, give or take two or three days,” she adds, and that’s when the dates make sense.
Holy moly. I might’ve gotten pregnant the first time I had sex with Mack?
What are the odds? I mean, I’m on freaking birth control!
Seeing as there’s a whole-ass baby in your uterus, the odds appear pretty good.
Suddenly, my mouth feels like it has way too much saliva, and the urge to vomit is stronger than I’d like while I’m spread-eagled in stirrups with an ultrasound wand shoved up my hoohah.
I try to stay strong, breathing through the sensation that is my rumbling stomach, but when it feels like saliva floods my mouth, I know I don’t have much more time.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” is all I can manage, and luckily, the nurse moves quickly and holds a trash can near my face.
Seconds later, I’m puking in said trash can while the doctor finishes up my ultrasound.
Thankfully, the rest of my appointment is sped along—probably because they don’t want me to cover their office with chunks of vomit—and I’m walking out the door with ultrasound photos of my baby in my hand and a packet labeled “Healthy Pregnancy” that the nurse instructed me to read before my next appointment in a month.
Yes, my next appointment for my pregnancy. Because I’m pregnant.
If I weren’t so emotional, I’d probably laugh over the insanity that is my current situation, but all I can do is sob as I walk down the sidewalk toward the subway.
My reaction makes me feel super guilty. There’s an innocent little baby growing inside me, and all I can do is cry about it.
Most women would feel happy and excited, but most women don’t get pregnant by Mack Houston the first time they have sex with him. Most women are probably also in an actual relationship, but I don’t even know what to call what Mack and I are doing.
Though, it probably doesn’t matter anyway. After the way I treated him this morning when I was rushing to get to this last-minute appointment, I have a feeling Mack is going to run for the hills when I find the courage to tell him I’m preggo.
It’s too bad you’re in love with your baby daddy. That certainly doesn’t make it any easier.
That thought only makes me cry harder.
“Just get home,” I mutter to myself, completely ignoring if any of my fellow pedestrians can hear me, as I swipe a rough hand down my face. “Just pull it together and get home.”
Oh yeah, get home, so you can start the big weekend with your parents and Gran and pretend like you’re not a constantly nauseated pregnant woman who just found out she’s knocked up by the man she l-o-v-e-s, even though she was a total bitch to him mere hours ago and has zero hopes that he’s going to be on board with saying goodbye to his happy bachelor life to become a family of three.
Sweet Lucifer. I almost forgot about my family.
Dear Universe,
You really know how to stack a deck, don’t you?
Mack
I’m pretty sure George’s is a really nice restaurant, but fuck if I can even notice anything around me. I can barely register what Thatch and Kline and Wes and Cap are talking about as our server sets our plated orders in front of each of us as it is.
Hell, I don’t even remember ordering the pancakes and sausage that now sit in front of me, but that’s probably because all I can do is think how badly things went with Katy this morning.
She looked upset and scared, and all I did was add fuel to the flames.
You are going to have to get it together, man, my mind reminds me. You’re in the middle of an investors’ meeting, for fuck’s sake.