3 months later
We’ve decided to start trying again. Part of me isn’t ready…but part of me is. I still haven’t fully recovered from the miscarriage, but I don’t have all the time in the world to wait… I’m scared it won’t happen again for us again, and I won’t be able to get pregnant. It’s a reasonable question at my age.
But no matter how much I thought about it could’ve prepared me for the moment when I realized I might be pregnant after all. My period was late. A wave of emotions came crashing down over me, and I suddenly realized I wasn’t ready for this. I might be pregnant… again… and I still haven’t… the miscarriage… I don’t think I could take it. I’m not ready.
On my way home from work I grab a pregnancy test. One of those that says ‘pregnant’ or ‘not pregnant’’ with how many weeks along you are. You aren’t pregnant, I told myself. It’s just everything that’s happened, that’s why you’re late. Then Selena, why are you buying a pregnancy test? Oh Watcher, please don’t let me be pregnant. I want a family, but this is too much in a short amount of time.
Pregnant. That’s what the small stick I’m holding says. Pregnant, 5 weeks. Why couldn’t it be 4 weeks, or 6? Why five? That’s how many weeks I was when…when I lost the baby. The Watcher is not on my side. Could I really do this again?
“Derek? Can we sit down?”
“Yeah, what is it? Are you ok?”
“Look, I don’t know how to say this, but… I’m pregnant…”