23
When I remain sick for the next few mornings, my roommate, Dylan, who probably wishes she was sharing a room with anyone else right now, calls the cruise doctor to come and have a look at me. He runs a few tests, including a pee sample and a temperature, mouth, and ear check.
I’m expecting the worst, after an internet search told me I’m likely to die, when the doctor says, “You’re pregnant.”
“No, I’m not,” I tell him, getting defensive. Death, I could accept, but this, not so much. “There’s no way I can be pregnant. No way. Impossible. Unless I’m the Virgin Mary.”
“Have you had sex—?”
“Well yeah, but he was snipped, so there’s no way I can be pregnant. And I haven’t been with anyone else in months,” I tell him, sitting up and glancing down at my stomach. “This is just a food baby, the food here is really good and I’ve been eating a lot of it. Don’t judge me.”
The doctor sits down on my bed and studies me. “If he’s the only man you’ve had sex with, maybe the operation didn’t work. It’s rare, but it does happen. Did he get his semen tested afterward to make sure he’s now shooting blanks?”
I grit my teeth, wondering what I did to the fates that they hate me so much. I cannot catch a break. I look back down at my stomach. “Are you sure I just don’t have some flu that I’m going to spread to the entire cruise ship?”
“I’m afraid what you have isn’t contagious,” he says, patting my leg in sympathy. “I can help the nausea, and I will get you some folic acid supplements, but no more drinking for you.”
“But that’s my favorite hobby,” I tell him, blinking slowly a few times. I must be in shock. I want to laugh, I want to cry, but mainly I want to jump off this ship, swim home, and get a second opinion.
“You’re sure?” I ask, eyes pleading with him to tell me this is a huge joke.
I’m single.
Unemployed.
And now pregnant.
This just can’t get any worse right now.
“I didn’t get my degree online,” he tells me, arching his brow. “I’m sure. When you get home, go do an ultrasound and see how far along you are.” He stands up to leave, but stops at the door. “Oh, and Celina?”
“Yeah?” I ask, sounding miserable.
“Congratulations.”
I start to cry. I’m not even a crier, but I’ve cried so much in these last few weeks that it makes sense that there’s a valid reason for that.
I’m not a little bitch.
I just have a tiny human inside of me who is making me an emotional mess.
I’m Katie.
Pregnant, lost, and confused.
But no one is going to come and save me.
I stare at the door the doctor just vacated.
Then I bury my face into my pillow and scream.
“So, you’re pregnant?” Tayte confirms, sculling the rest of his beer.
“I know. And drinking is my coping mechanism and I can’t even do that.” I pull a face at my juice in front of me. “Can I smell your beer? Is that weird? Just because I can’t drink it doesn’t mean I can’t smell it, right?”
“You can smell it if you like,” he murmurs, odd look on his face. “Is that a weird pregnant thing, or a weird you thing?”
“I have no idea. I only found out I was pregnant this morning,” I tell him, forcing a smile. “It’s been a bit of a rough day. And although I can’t drink, overeating is acceptable.”
“Is that why you ordered three different meals?” he asks, nodding his head in realization. “I was wondering why you were ordering for a small army.”
“I’m going to eat my emotions,” I admit, sliding his beer my way and smelling it. “It smells so good. So, so good. You are a lucky man, Tayte.”
He starts laughing at me. “How typical is it that I find a woman I’m attracted to and a few days later she finds out she’s pregnant?”
“There are plenty of nonpregnant beautiful women here, Tayte, and guess what? I happen to be one hell of a wingwoman,” I tell him with a wink. I’m flattered that he’s attracted to me, but it appears, at least for now, Knuckles has ruined me for other men.
And I have his unborn child inside of me.
I place my hand on my stomach and take a deep breath. I might have wanted this one day, but not like this.
Not like this.