It’s the worst night’s sleep of my life. I toss and turn, unable to rest for more than a minute.

I’m not telling Jay about the pregnancy until I’m absolutely certain that it’s a real thing. An hour on the internet taught me that, yes, sometimes pregnancy tests can show positive when you aren’t expecting.

It could be my hormones acting wonky. I have been busy, I think as I stare up at the dark ceiling. It could be stress.

“Stress?” I ask the dark room aloud. I’ve never heard of stress inducing a faux pregnancy.

In the morning, I wait in my room until I hear my parents leave for work. Then, darting into the kitchen, I scarf down a banana—which promptly threatens to come back up.

I’ve made a last-minute appointment at a nearby clinic instead of at the family doctor. I can’t risk any of this getting back to my parents. Since Willow is at rehearsal for a play she’s the lead in in a few weeks, it’s up to me to go alone.

The way my hands shake as I sign in at the front desk is completely unexpected. I have to sit down and pinch them between my thighs to make it stop. When the nurse calls my name, I’m still nothing more than a bundle of nerves.

Is this how it’s going to be? Appointment after appointment that I go to alone?

The fact that I might actually be having a baby still hasn’t registered with me. All I can think about is telling Jay and my parents, and seeing the shock on all of their faces.

The nurse takes me to a room where my blood pressure and weight are taken. I try to steady my breathing. I don’t know what I’m so nervous about. The outcome is going to be pretty simple. Either I really am pregnant, or I’m not. If I am, I’ve already decided to keep the baby. Even if I have to raise him or her alone.

When it’s time for the ultrasound, something appears on the screen right away.

“There we are!” the nurse coos, pointing to what looks like a tiny bean on the black-and-white screen. “You’re only around four weeks along. It’s actually quite unusual to find out this early, but your body wanted you to know, it seems.”

I stare in shock at the screen. This is really happening. I’m having a baby. Tears spring into my eyes unexpectedly.

“I know,” the nurse murmurs, smiling. “It’s an emotional moment. Would you like a minute?”

I sniff and nod. “Thanks, that’s kind of you.”

She shuts off the monitor and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. I sit up and grab a handful of tissues to wipe off the jelly on my stomach. Seeing the little figure on the screen made me happy, like the nurse thought, but that’s only a small part of it.

I’m also terrified. Confused. Lonely.

This isn’t how I thought I would see the very first picture of my first child—in a cold room, all by myself. Shouldn’t there be someone here with me? The baby’s father? Someone who, hopefully, is also the love of my life?

I wipe the last bit of jelly off of my skin, crumple up the tissues, and throw them at the trashcan. The wad bounces off the side and hits the floor.

Blinking away the last of my tears, I take my phone from my purse. No more waiting. Not another week. Not another minute. Now that I know for sure that I’m pregnant, it’s time to tell Jay.

I rehearse what I’m going to say as I scroll through my phone and pull up his number.

Look, I have some crazy news. I know it would be better to tell you in person, but it’s pretty urgent. I’m pregnant, and it’s yours. I’ve already decided to keep it. If you want to be involved, that’s great. If not…

If not, what? Could I really let Jay off the hook so easily?

Then again, why would I want to hang on to a guy who doesn’t want to be involved in his kid’s life? Wouldn’t it be better just to let him go and take care of everything—including the money part—myself?

I don’t like the thought of Jay walking away and never talking to me again, or never seeing our child. That’s not the guy I got to know in those magical days in Macau. I hope that I’m right about the person I saw in him, and that he’s not going to disappear just when things start to get rough.

I can’t even breathe through the first ring. On the four ring, I finally inhale.

On the fifth, I exhale. The call goes to voicemail.

Leaving a message doesn’t sit right with me, so I just hang up. I’ll try again later. For now, I’ve gained myself another few minutes of carrying this secret.

There’s a knock on the door and the nurse comes back in. “How are we doing in here?”

I plaster a smile to my face. “Just great.”

Willow meets me at the coffee shop on the corner; her rehearsal had finished around the same time as my doctor’s appointment.

“Oh. My. God,” she breathes as we stand in line and she looks at the print-out of the ultrasound. “It’s so cute! I mean, hmm…she.”

“How do you know it’s a she?”

“Just a feeling.”

“She,” I repeat softly to myself. My baby is going to be a girl…or a boy. Either way, thinking about it like this, that little being in my stomach, makes the whole thing become a bit more concrete.

“Have you thought of any names yet?” Willow asks.

“No. I haven’t been thinking of anything except how crazy all of this is.”

“Yeah, it is pretty crazy. But isn’t it amazing, too?” She’s practically bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement.

It is amazing. It is exciting. I wish I could let go and just enjoy the purely positive emotions, but I can’t when there’s also real fear.

We reach the counter and Willow orders two black coffees.

“No,” I interrupt. “Peppermint tea for me.”

We take our drinks and head outside. The heat feels unusually oppressive today, and I have to shield my eyes with my hand just to make it down the block.

“Is being pregnant always this awful?” I rhetorically ask the universe.

“Just think how cute you’ll look in a few months,” Willow answers. This, coming from the girl who nearly fainted while waiting for the results of a pregnancy test that wasn’t even hers.

We arrive at Riverside Park and settle onto a bench. A fresh breeze drifts across the Hudson and plays with my hair.

“I have to try calling Jay again,” I announce, dialing his number.

Like before, his phone goes to voicemail. A sick feeling floods my stomach, and I’m pretty sure it has nothing to do with first trimester symptoms.

“Leave a message,” Willow suggests.

“No. I can’t do that.”

She rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t suggesting you tell him you’re pregnant in the voicemail. I just mean, tell him you have some urgent news to share.”

I shake my head. “That’s too close to actually delivering the news. I can’t do that. It’s either on the phone, or in person.” I gaze mournfully at the phone in my hand. “I just don’t understand where he is. I haven’t heard from him all week.”

“Did you check his—”

“He doesn’t do social media,” I interrupt.

Willow sips her coffee. “What a hipster.”

Anxiety pumps through me. “I need to get to Monte Carlo. I have to talk to him. If he wants to be a part of this…great. If he doesn’t…”

“Then I’m here.” Willow squeezes my hand. “And so are your parents.”

I give her a grateful smile, but can’t bring myself to tell her my parents are likely to be furious when they find out. Instead, I just change the topic.

“I’m going to get my ticket right now.”

As Willow finishes her coffee, I pull up the airline app on my phone and book my flight to Monte Carlo. Forget waiting for Jay to get in touch so we can confirm that we’re still meeting up. In approximately eight months’ time, I’ll be having his baby. The clock is ticking.