This was it.
I walked over to the toilet, pushed my leggings and underwear down to my ankles, and then sat down. I knew the gist of taking a pregnancy test; I’d taken two in the past nine days, but finding out the results had never come easy so hopefully the third time would be a charm for me. I needed to know if I was pregnant.
It took a few minutes for me to be able to go—my nerves caused me to lock up, but luckily, I eventually peed on the stick. I capped the test end and placed it on the counter next to me. I finished my business then pulled my underwear and leggings back up. I walked to the sink where I spent a great deal of time thoroughly washing my hands. When I was finished I dried my hands and turned and stared at the test on the counter across from me.
I didn’t know how long I had to wait for the test to be ready, and I didn’t want to pick up the box and read it because, with every passing second, I felt more and more sick. I needed to do this, but that didn’t make me feel any better about doing it. It actually made me feel worse. If I was pregnant then I was completely fucked. I was twenty-eight years of age and I was well aware that I wasn’t getting any younger, but I could barely take care of myself. I had a grown-up job, and a grown-up apartment, but I didn’t feel like the adult I was. I enjoyed having fun and doing stupid things regardless of my age, but this? This was serious because if I couldn’t get a dog to like me, how in the hell would I get a baby to?
I shook my head and forced all the ‘what if’ thoughts away. If I was pregnant, then I was pregnant. I would deal with it—probably not in the most mature way—but I’d deal with it nonetheless. With a firm nod of my head, I walked over to the counter facing me and picked up the pregnancy test. I put down the seat of the toilet and sat on it. I stared at the back of the test and tried to pluck up the courage to turn it over.
I closed my eyes.
This was it.
“I can’t do it,” I whined to no one and closed my eyes.
Just fucking look!
With a firm nod of my head, I opened my eyes and looked down to the stick in my hands. I held my breath as I flipped the stick over and widened my eyes as I read the results.
Oh, Jesus.
“Oh. My. God,” I whispered as I stared down at the pregnancy test before me.
The positive pregnancy test.
I rubbed my eyes with my balled up hands and blinked profusely, hoping the words on the digital test would change, but no matter how many times I rubbed my eyes it read the same thing: Pregnant—3+ weeks.
“KEELA!”
I screamed her name as loud as I could. Not long after, I heard the loud patter of clumsy footsteps come up the stairs then into the bedroom. A few seconds had passed before the bathroom door was flung open as my best friend all but dived into the room ready to face the possible danger that caused me to scream so loudly.
“What is it?” Keela asked with her arm raised in the air.
I looked up at her hand and blinked in confusion. She had the television remote in her hand, and from the looks of it, she was prepared to use it as a weapon. I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t. I knew if I opened my mouth all that would escape would be a terrified sob.
“Aideen, what’s wrong?” Keela asked me, her tone laced with worry.
She knelt down in front of me and placed her hands on my cheeks. I momentarily wondered where she put the remote, but I forgot about it when Keela shook my head and got my attention.
“Honey, you’re scarin’ me. What is it?”
I blinked and flicked my eyes towards the bathroom counter next to me where I’d flung the test in a panic. It sat a mere foot away, mocking me with its presence. Keela followed my gaze and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion when her eyes locked on the small white stick. She leaned over to the counter and tilted her head to get a better look at the test.
I knew the moment she realised what she was looking at when she gasped. I stayed put on the toilet while Keela jumped to her feet and snatched the test from the countertop. She raised the test right up to her face and narrowed her eyes at the little window that hadd already told me that my life as I knew it was over.
“It’s you! You’re the one who is pregnant!”
Even though she was in shock, I felt like Keela was accusing me of hiding a secret from her and that was the farthest thing from the truth. I was just in the same state of what-the-fuck shock as she was. To soothe her though, I blinked my eyes and opened my mouth to answer her, but a muffled and terrified cry escaped my mouth instead of words.
“Oh, baby,” Keela whispered and quickly knelt back down in front of me.
I wrapped my arms around her when she pulled me into her chest and held me there. My whole body shook violently as sobs wracked through me and tears flowed from my now red-rimmed and swollen eyes.
I was pregnant... really pregnant.
Fuck me.
I cried harder than I ever had before and Keela held me the entire time. My thoughts were a mess, my stomach hurt, and my chest felt like it was about to cave in on itself. As much as I wanted to scream and let all my fear and shock out, I just couldn’t, so I squeezed my eyes shut and focused on breathing. If I freaked out and had a panic attack, it wouldn’t be good for anyone, especially Keela. She would have a heart attack if she thought there was something wrong with me. The guards, firemen, paramedics, and the Army would be at my door in minutes if she had the slightest inkling that I was about to lose it.
What felt like an hour later instead of just a few minutes, I peeled myself from Keela’s arms and wiped my tear-streaked face with the back of my hands. I knew it was a foolish attempt to wipe away the evidence of my mini break down—I could feel how swollen my eyes were from crying and I could only imagine what all the salty tears had done to my make-up and overall appearance, but I had to try to compose myself.