Chapter 5

Casey

This was really happening. I stood in the bathroom of my small studio apartment as I waited for the plastic stick in front of me to show either one line or two. It took every ounce of self-restraint I had not to take a pregnancy test every day for the three and a half weeks since having sex with Alexander. As if the reality of sleeping with the sexiest man I’d ever seen wasn’t difficult enough to comprehend, the possibility of having a baby was thrown into the mix. I was slightly terrified, but mostly excited and exhilarated. I still hadn’t fully processed what had happened. I just knew that, for the first time in my life, a baby was a real possibility for me.

The longest two minutes of my life were finally over. I squeezed my eyelids shut, then opened them for the big reveal. “Holy shit,” I said as I stared at the two faded lines. “I’m pregnant.” I said the words aloud as if this would somehow magically make them more true than they already were.

Then, like something from a movie, I found myself skipping around my 500 square feet of space, jumping from one end of the apartment to the other. My dream was finally coming true. I was going to be a mother.

I hadn’t told a soul about my desire to get pregnant, even my closest friends. I knew what they would say. Liana would say, “Are you sure this is what you want?”, while Jane would offer up something like, “Casey, you’re young. There’s still time to find Mr. Right.”

I shook their voices from my head. I wouldn’t let them take away my joy. I wanted a baby, a family, a real love so badly, and it was actually going to happen. Not only was I going to have a little boy or girl, but I was going to have a gorgeous boy or girl. After all, I’d gotten the best sperm donation in all of Atlanta.

I walked over to my nightstand and lifted up the picture I’d kept there every day since I moved in two years earlier. My mother was flashing her toothy grin as she held me, only ten or eleven months older than the baby in my womb, wrapped in a blanket. It was the only picture I had of the two of us.

As if losing my mother in a car accident wasn’t bad enough, I had also lost nearly every photograph I had of her in the shuffling among fourteen foster homes in the eight years following her death. This seemed like the perfect time to visit my mother at the cemetery. I wanted to tell her about everything going on in my life. But the 180-mile drive to the cemetery where she was buried was too far a drive on a random Tuesday. I’d have to wait until my annual Christmas visit.

I walked back over to the bathroom and held up the plastic stick that sealed the fate of my future. It still hadn’t hit me that it was really happening. I’d spent the past few weeks replaying that day with Alexander over and over again. I could still feel his warm breath against my ear as he kissed my neck. I could still see his model-worthy washboard abs and perfectly-tanned skin.

It was completely strange to think about the fact that I was carrying Alexander Preston’s child. This had completely ruined my chance of having a normal relationship— with him or any other man. That was fine by me, though. I had the gift of a baby inside of me, and that was what I wanted most. I tried to ignore the fact that this pregnancy would make things awkward the next time Alexander came in to donate. I had another week until I had to worry about that. Waltzing toward my wardrobe in my bra, I settled for a lilac, three-quarter-sleeved dress and threw it over my body. My body. My body that was carrying a baby.

I spent the whole ride into work thinking of all the baby name possibilities I’d compiled over the years. Maybe Aaron or Oliver for a boy. I liked Madeleine and Donna for girls, until I realized that Donna Donohue would be quite an unfortunate name. No matter. I still had months to decide.

Once the initial shock wore off, I switched into panic mode. How was I going to raise a child on my own? I could barely make ends meet as it was. Should I move to an area where the cost of living was cheaper? Would I be able to find a job without a college degree? There was also the worry that all expectant mothers faced—that the baby wouldn’t make it full-term. I had seen dozens of women at the clinic who suffered from miscarriages and stillbirths. It was something I had seen so often that I had almost become desensitized. That was, however, until it was my own baby I was thinking about. Whatever it took, I was determined to give this baby a great life.

“Good morning,” Dr. Leonard said when I walked into the clinic. “How are you doing, Casey?”

“I’m good,” I said. “How about yourself?”

Dr. Leonard shuffled some magazines in the waiting room. “Doing alright. John came down with the flu, so we’ll have to reschedule a few appointments.”

“No problem. I’m on it!” With that, Dr. Leonard went to the back to prepare for the day’s appointments. I couldn’t help but wonder if he would somehow be able to tell I was pregnant. Sure, I was only one month along, but did obstetric and gynecologic doctors have a special sense for something like this? I prayed they didn’t. I didn’t want to tell anyone for at least another month or two.

As I sat down at my desk, I felt my phone vibrate in my purse. It was a text message from Liana, complete with a photograph of an ultrasound. Twins are looking great. They can’t wait to meet their Auntie Casey, the message read. I smiled. Little did she know she wasn’t the only one with a bun in the oven.