Chapter 187
**Megan**
I pace up and down the small bathroom in one of the guest bedrooms as I wait for the results to show. Logan is at work; I had to fake not feeling well so I could leave early. It worked out well as the whole school knew what had happened. David tried to get Logan to take the day off but he wouldn’t and I didn’t because I didn’t want to be left alone with my thoughts. I needed the distraction.
On my way home, I stopped at a pharmacy. I ended up buying six tests, mostly because I didn’t know which one to buy. Who knew there were so many different kinds of pregnancy tests. I ended up just buying one of each. They all read differently, too. Some just tell you in writing that you’re pregnant, others make lines or dots.
Whenever this happened with Jonathon, I just bought the cheapest ones, which only consisted of lines and I usually got them from a gas station. There were fewer choices there.
The woman at the counter looked at me in such disappointment. I had to point out to her that she wasn’t my mother, and her judgment wasn’t needed.
I look at my phone to see there are ten seconds left. On the plus side, they all took the same amount of time.
Maybe the hospital test was wrong. I think that’s just my wishful thinking, but a girl can hope. I’ve never wanted children, not even while I was growing up. My mom bought me a baby doll with all the accessories, that did everything a baby would do, and I hated it. I never played pretend mommy. It just wasn’t something I was interested in.
My phone alarms. I turn it off and prepare myself to look. I shouldn’t look, but I have to. I take a deep breath and look at each test.
Two lines.
Two lines.
Plus symbol.
Pregnant.
Pregnant 4 - 6 weeks.
Two lines.
Every single test tells me the same thing. Every. Single. One!
Maybe they’re faulty. I sigh and pick up the one that tells me how many weeks.
“About right,” I say quietly and look at the others. “I need to tell him,” I say to myself.
I hear the front door slam shut. I look at my phone to see it’s only just past 3 pm. I quickly pick up all of the tests and shove them into one box, to then put them in the bag to throw in the bin.
After tidying up, I leave the guest bedroom and make my way downstairs to see it’s Carl that’s home. He watches me as I make my way to the kitchen. He follows.
“Have you told him yet?”
“Carl,”
“I’m just asking,”
“It’s been a day, just leave it alone,” I beg.
“How come you’re home early?” he asks.
“Because I didn’t feel well,” I say as I make myself a glass of water and walk into the living room.
“Is it Logan’s?” he asks. “Is that why you won’t tell him? Do you not know?” he asks.
“Carl I said leave it,” I snap. He sighs and sits down next to me.
“If it’s not,”
“It is,”
“Then why won’t you tell him? He’d be happy,”
“Carl please just drop it,”
He doesn’t have to tell me that Logan will be happy. I know he will, that’s the problem. How do I tell him, to then say to him that the chances of it surviving are slim? It’s cruel. I don’t want to do that to him.
“Are you keeping it?” he asks. I look at Carl. I hadn’t thought of termination.
“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” I state.
“Well maybe think about that before telling him,”
“Will he want it?” I ask.
“Probably, have you ever seen him with kids? It’s amazing how much he gets on with them,” he explains.
“Oh,” I say and feel myself start to get upset. Carl moves his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into a hug as I begin to cry.
“He’ll support you with whatever decision you make,” he tells me.
“It’s not that,” I cry and wipe my cheeks. “Logan will be happy, and I get that, but it won’t survive,” I say, and he frowns. “When I was in the hospital last year I was told that the chances of me carrying a baby to 6 months were slim at best, so nine months are impossible,”
“Oh,” he pauses and frowns. “Oh wow, that means,” he looks at my stomach, and I see the pity in his eyes before he can school his features. “Megan,”
“I don’t know what to do,”
“I see,” he says, “I understand now, only you can make the decision,” he adds.
“I know, each one is scary,” I say quietly and look down. “Please just be patient, I’m trying to figure this out myself,”
“Ok, I’ll drop it,” he agrees. “But I think you should tell him regardless of your decision as he deserves to know,”
“I know he does,”
\---
“Here you go,” Sara says as she hands me the leaflets from the doctor.
Taking the leaflets, I slowly look at them all. One was about pregnancy and what to expect, another was about adoption, and the other is about abortion. Why did the doctor give me an adoption leaflet? That doctor is honestly stupid.
“I think the doctor was new,” Sara says. I must have pulled a face at the adoption information. “Did you tell Logan?” I shake my head.
I pick up the abortion leaflet and skim read it, the idea of abortion doesn’t even sit right with me, but I’m not sure I have any other option.
“You need to book in to see your doctor,”
“Why?” I ask, looking at her.
“Then you can get all the information, so you know what to expect,”
“It will die,” I say. She sighs and tilts her head.
“You need the facts, Megan. You need to know if you’re in danger of any damage, what the toll is on your body,” she explains. I nod and look back at the leaflet in my hands. “A child can live after being born at six months,” she says.
“I’m tired,” I say. “Jonathon is always going to impact my life no matter what,” I state. “If Logan and I ever broke up and I met someone else, I’d have to explain everything. He’s never going to be completely out of my life,”
“What makes you think you and Logan would break up?” she asks.
“He wants kids, if I tell him, he’s going to be happy, but then I have to remind him that it wouldn’t survive,” I pause and look down. “I’ve heard things like that can cause friction in relationships,”
“Yes it can, but if you don’t tell him, it will cause friction. Can you really go through this on your own?” Can you handle not telling him?”
“No,” I reply and move my hands through my hair. “I’m not sure what I can handle,”
“It’s easy for me to tell you to tell him, but that’s because that isn’t the hard part. You’ve been through a lot over the weekend, so you have that to process too,”
“I guess,” I say looking at the pregnancy leaflet.
“You’re focusing on one thing at a time?” she asks.
“Yeah I guess, before all of this I had something I wanted to talk to you about, but now everything seems to pale in comparison,” I explain.
“Well, I don’t think you can focus on the pregnancy right now because you need more information. When you’ve spoken to your doctor maybe then you can get a much more clear understanding of what to expect, just because there's a slim chance doesn’t mean there is no chance. There's also the impact on your body. You need to know if your body can survive a pregnancy, you need all of this to make the right informed decision,” she explains to me.
“Yeah I guess, I took six pregnancy tests earlier,”
“Six!”
“Just to make sure,” I say, and she laughs. “That doctor may have gotten the wrong patient,” I state and she laughs.
“Wishful thinking on your part,” I shrug, “have you ever wanted children?”
“Not really, but when they said in hospital that I couldn’t it did upset me, I guess it’s having the choice taken from me that upset me,”
“Often the case, now, tell me what you wanted to talk about before everything that happened,” she says, changing the subject.
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