Chapter 18: Hailey

Nausea woke me. I laid in bed, trying to control the waves of nausea that washed over me. My body broke out in shivers. Goosebumps ran up my arms.

It wasn’t very long before I rolled out of bed and ran to the bathroom. When I was finally done emptying the non-existent contents of my stomach, I wiped my mouth and crawled back into bed. I glanced at my alarm clock. It was too early for work. I didn’t want to go though. I couldn’t go if I was flat on my back with an illness.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. I managed to drift off a couple of times but I kept snapping back to consciousness, the nausea keeping me up.

It was a full week since I’d started feeling sick. I’d taken Tuesday off last week because of the horrible stomach bug. The rest of the week it had been okay – the nausea was still present, but it had lightened enough to work.

Now, it was back in full force.

Just thinking about it made my stomach turn again. I considered fetching a bucket to leave beside the bed rather than having to jump up every time.

When I looked at the time again, it was almost two hours later. I was late for work.

I picked up my phone and called Otto. I was halfway through my explanation when I had to throw down the phone and vomit again. It was humiliating, but at least Otto believed me when I told him I was sick.

I sent a text to Zach’s phone, telling him I wouldn’t be in. I didn’t want to call him and talk over the phone.

After I made all my calls, I fetched a bucket and placed it next to my bed. I pulled the covers up to my chin and lay on my side. I jammed my face into the pillows and drifted off again.

When I woke up again it was much later. The sun was high in the sky and I had three messages on my phone. Two were from Jess, asking if I was okay. One was from Zach. All he said was ‘okay.’ I tried not to think about how uncaring that sounded. If anything, he sounded indifferent about the whole thing.

What could be wrong with me? I wasn’t a sickly person. I didn’t get headaches or the flu or any other common sickness easily. I barely went to the doctor and I ate healthy enough.

I opened my laptop and typed my question into Google. Why am I nauseous?

Common causes of nausea include drug side effects, food poisoning, motion sickness, pregnancy, drinking too much…

My eyes landed on ‘pregnancy’. There was no way, was there? Zach and I had been using protection. And I’d been a virgin before that. I hadn’t slept around ever. I’d been safe. I’d done everything right.

Hadn’t I?

I opened the calendar on my phone and closed my eyes, trying to remember when I’d had my last period. I tried to anchor it to events which lead to dates. When I worked it out on my calendar, I was late. Three weeks late. I hadn’t focused on my cycle. I had been so busy with work and trying not to be infatuated with Zach that it slipped my mind completely.

I walked to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Everyone always commented on the glow that pregnant woman acquired.

I didn’t glow at all. If anything, I looked pasty. My hair was a mess and I had dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep. I knew what I had to do. I needed to take a test and know for sure. I was probably wrong. You couldn’t trust the internet to know what your symptoms meant. Google and WebMD weren’t replacements for real doctors and pregnancy tests.

I got dressed in jeans and a long sleeve tee, ran a brush through my hair and put on foundation and mascara. I only looked marginally better, but I wasn’t going to the office or anywhere else important. I walked to the closest convenience store.

I hadn’t ever been in the baby aisle before. It was filled with baby nappies and pacifiers, wet wipes, bum cream and teething toys. The other side of the aisle had pregnancy tests, condoms and lube all collected in the same place. Was this supposed to be a joke?

I felt completely lost. There were four different brands and two different kinds of pregnancy tests, each of them proclaiming to be the most accurate on the market. I read the names, saw the pictures of the tests on the packs and couldn’t breathe.

“Are you okay, honey?” an older woman asked me. She had a toddler sitting at her feet playing with one of the teething toys.

“No,” I said, admitting defeat. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

I wanted to use stronger language, but there was a baby on the floor. I didn’t know how much he knew already.

“What can I help you with?” she asked.

I felt like crying. “I don’t know which pregnancy test to get,” I said. My voice hitched at the end.

The woman put her hand on my arm. “I’ll help you, don’t worry.”

She smiled at me when I glanced at her. Her eyes were a light hazel, the same color as her hair and she was slightly chubby – baby weight? – but her smile was easy and I swallowed my tears.

“Okay, so you’ve got a couple of different ones, but you want one that will tell you accurately. You don’t want to make a mistake about this. Imagine telling hubby it’s a negative when you really have a bun in the oven!”

She laughed like her joke was funny. I smiled but I didn’t think it was funny. I didn’t have a husband and I would prefer if my oven stayed bun-free.

“So, First Response is the best one. I know it’s a little pricier than some of the others, but it’s really a no brainer. It can tell you earlier than the others too. I used that.”

I glanced at the baby on the floor. He was knocking off all the items from the bottom shelf. She didn’t seem to mind.

“When you get home, pee on it. In the morning is better because your pee isn’t diluted, but whenever should be fine.”

I nodded, trying to concentrate. I tasted my heart in my throat. I struggled to breathe and the name on the box was blurry. I blinked fast to get rid of the tears.

“Is he your first?” I asked.

She looked at the toddler and smiled.

“Oh, yes. He’s a sweetheart now, but I can tell you it wasn’t easy. Finding out I was pregnant was scary. He’s such a blessing now. You shouldn’t worry about it.”

I nodded, still looking at the baby. I couldn’t imagine having a toddler crawl around my feet. I couldn’t imagine having to give up my career, my lifestyle, my dreams…I couldn’t be pregnant. It had to be something else. There was just no way I could do this.

“Thank you for your help,” I said to the woman. She smiled at me, scooping her child up from the floor.

“Of course! Us moms need to stick together.” She winked at me and my stomach turned. “Good luck,” she added. I forced a smile and walked away with the box in my hand.

I couldn’t be pregnant.

Standing in the checkout line was even worse. There were three people in front of me. I felt like all of them would judge me the moment they saw the pregnancy test. They would know what I’d done.

Of course, I could be a mother of three, waiting to find out if I was pregnant with number four. I could be anyone. I could be buying it for a friend. They didn’t know anything. But I knew, and I wished the earth would open me up and swallow me whole.

To distract myself, I looked at the magazine on the stands all around me. They were strategically placed to get the customer to buy them, along with sweets and chocolates. I didn’t read magazines in general – there was enough gossip in my world. People magazine drew my attention.

Women Empowerment or…?

Next to the title in big white letters, was Zach’s face. At least, it was half of his face. The other half of it was being sucked on by a woman with red hair and an unflattering shirt. The picture had been taken in the dark, but it was undoubtedly Zach. If the title of the article didn’t give it away, his slicked back hair did it.

“Next,” the woman behind the till said. I walked forward in a daze, my pregnancy test almost forgotten. I couldn’t breathe. I trembled all over. My heart hammered against my ribs. I was scared I would pass out.

“Ma’am?”

I looked up at the cashier.

“I’m sorry?” My ears rang so loudly I couldn’t hear what she was saying.

“Are you taking that?” she asked, nodding to the magazine I hadn’t realized I was holding onto. I shook my head and put it down. I’d clutched it so hard the corner was curled up. She rolled her eyes and told me the price. I opened my purse and produced a handful of notes. She gave half of it back to me. I stuffed it back into my purse without thinking.

“Thank you,” I mumbled and stuffed the pregnancy test in my handbag.

I walked all the way home without thinking. My feet were on autopilot. Blood rushed to my head in the shop and I’d been unable to think. Now, I was unable to feel. I had gone numb, my emotions had dried up and I was a husk, blowing around in the wind.

At home, I sat on the closed toilet lid with the home pregnancy test in my lap. I stared at the box for what felt like forever. I couldn’t be pregnant. Not with Zach’s child, not now. After that magazine cover… what would they think of me if I turned out to be pregnant with his child? His PR agent… I would be the joke of the century. The poor PR girl who couldn’t even do her job right and was stupid enough to get knocked up.

What would that do to his father, to the company’s image? That was even worse. All that hard work had been for nothing. Not only would my reputation be ruined, Ken would also lose the one thing he cared about. And Zach?

I’d lost him already, it seemed. I had already pushed him away, but a part of me hoped he would hold on despite everything.

Hope was a traitor.

I looked down at the pregnancy test again. I wasn’t pregnant. This could be an illness. Maybe I could go to the doctor and get medicine. It was just the stress of the last two months taking a toll on me. My period was late because of that too. It wasn’t anything to worry about.

I opened the box and found the leaflet. I read it over three times. When I was sure I knew what to do – not that it was rocket science – I took out the white plastic stick with the pointed end. I sat on the toilet and did exactly as the instructions said. Carefully, I put it on the basin.

The leaflet had said to wait a minimum of three minutes. Three minutes had never felt longer.

God, this was torture.

I waited for what felt like forever, checking the clock every minute. When the time was finally up, I grabbed the pregnancy test.

The moment of truth. I had been impatient all this time, but now that my three minutes were up, I didn’t want to look. I was terrified of what the result may be. Was it too late to pray? I didn’t even know if anyone would listen.

I covered my eyes with one hand and held up the pregnancy test with the other. I would count to three, I told myself, and then force myself to look. Better knowing than not knowing. No matter what the result.

I took a deep breath and counted out loud.

“One. Two. Three.”