Sinking
April, 1998
“You’ve been going to therapy without telling me? What’s wrong with the St. John’s Wort I gave you?”
I roll my eyes up from my computer screen and attempt to ridicule his inquiry, but he cuts me off at the pass.
“Here’s an idea. Instead of spending money on a therapist, maybe you should take up something like yoga. It’ll relax you, plus it’s cheaper and you’ll get in great shape.”
Okay, first of all yoga is gay and second of all…I want to rip my clothes off and show him that I’m already in great shape, but it’ll just make him want me and I can’t even go there.
“I dunno Kurt, guess I’m unhappy. Actually…she wants to see us both next week.”
Judging by my tone, he can’t possibly think I’m hopeful his presence will amount to anything.
“Why me? This has nothing to do with me. I’m happy.”
“Really? You’re happy, Kurt? As my husband, I wonder how you can be happy when I just told you I’m not. Seriously, if you told me you were unhappy, I’d walk over hot coals if I thought it would help you.” Well… maybe a year ago I would have. “And I’m not talking about torturing you with therapy either.” But I kind of am. “I hope you’ll go willingly because you love me and you want me to be happy. But, of course, if you have a problem with any of that, I’ll just continue to go alone and talk about you and all our problems.”
“Geez babe, you know I love you. What day and time? I’ll have to let the softball team know I’ll be missing practice.”
“Wednesday at 5:30pm.”
“Great, that’s game night.”
“Great, I’ll tell Dr. Maria that.”
“Man, Chrissy. Calm down. I’ll be there for you.”
“For us.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I grab my coat and yell, “Be back soon,” as I make my way out to my car to meet my best friends for dinner. I’m not going willingly though. Courtney threatened to cut me off for good if I didn’t show up. She knows something’s wrong. On my way to the restaurant, I purposely pass the spot where Leo and I sat in my car and talked until the sun came up on the night we met. It’s been weeks since that last phone call with him, and I haven’t stopped thinking about him or stopped doing stupid stuff like this. In fact, I’ve driven to the reservoir three times, but there was no sign of him. Maybe he knew I’d go looking, so he deliberately stayed away. I pass Dr. Maria’s office and see her light on. Busy lady. I try to feel an iota of optimism about Kurt going to therapy with me, but there’s none. I’m scared to death that it’s pointless and I’m gonna spend the rest of my life wishing it wasn’t my life…just like Francesca. I park my car at the restaurant and schlep my way to the door, wondering if I can pull myself together long enough to convince my friends that “everything’s perfect!” As I’m entering, a girl with hair blonder than mine and eyes even bluer than my own, grabs my arm. I hated her the minute I saw her.
“Hey! Is your name Chrissy?”
“Do I know you?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, no! My name’s Megan. I saw your picture at my friend Leo’s house.”
“You did!?”
“Yeah, I wondered why he still had it up. You know…being that you two aren’t seeing each other anymore. Poor guy, seemed so sad at first, but a bunch of us set him straight, and he’s real good now. In fact, we just partied at his place last night.”
Megan, Megan, Megan…OH, MEGAN! Leo told me about this chick. She has some classes with him at St. Mary’s, but he said she also takes night classes at The Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising. She wants to design her own label and run her own business one day. Get in line, bitch! Anyway, she’s always flirting with him and showing up at his apartment without invitation. Obviously she’s in love with him. It didn’t bother me while I was seeing him because…well, I’m me and she’s just a kid. But seeing her now makes me want to stab her in her childlike eyes. That’ll have to wait though, because my three best friends are walking-toward-me-right-NOW!
“There was a picture of me?”
“Oh don’t worry, it’s cute! You’re sitting by a pool or something.” Ah yes, I remember now that I conveniently left that picture, along with my bra, at his apartment. I looked amazing in it, and I hoped by leaving it behind, he would show it to his friends. I’m so f*cked in the head.
“So when are you getting married?”
I can’t believe Leo told her I was getting married!
“Um…well I haven’t figured that out yet. Hey, I gotta run, I’m meeting some friends and…”
Oh shit, here they come. As I walk away from her, I yell out, “Tell Leo I said hello and I hope he’s doing well.” I didn’t have time to think about how lame that sounded because I was too preoccupied with my rapidly approaching friends. I hope to hell she doesn’t tell him I hope he’s “doing well.” It dilutes the magnitude of pain I feel without him. But I’m in shock right now! Leo’s people are infiltrating my city, my restaurants! This CANNOT happen! Omigod, what if I was with Kurt? My two worlds could’ve just collided! Jesus, I’m gonna have to look over my shoulder the rest of my life! I can actually feel another pound melt away from my body.
“Hey, girly!”
It’s Courtney, and as I get closer, she reaches her hand out to me.
“Geez woman, why so pale? Are you okay?”
I look up at the three of them, and just as I’m about to lie about having the flu, Nicole blurts out, “Who was that girl with the great hair and who’s Leo?”
The jig is up.
“No, I’m not okay. Girls, I have some stuff to tell you. First, we need cocktails.”
After the head-on collision with Megan, I desperately wanted to tell my friends about Leo. Being recognized by that girl scared the shit out of me, and I wanted them to comfort me. Then on the way to our table, my fear turned into anger, and I wanted them to help me beat Megan up in the parking lot. But once we were seated and I had my martini in my hand, I wimped out of saying or doing anything about Megan or Leo. If I end up staying with Kurt, which for some reason seems to be my goal right now, I can’t have my shame belonging to anyone other than me. Besides, who am I kidding? My friends are the types to run away from a fight, not instigate one. Buncha pansies. Instead, I gently introduce the three of them to my soap opera by finally telling them how screwed up my marriage is. After an hour of non-stop talking, I pause long enough to take a swig of my now very warm martini.
“I knew it. I never thought you two had much in common.”
“Thanks Courtney, maybe you could’ve mentioned that like I dunno…ten years ago!”
“Right, like you would’ve listened to me anyway. You were gonna marry Kurt whether I told you it was a bad idea or not. You’re too damn stubborn, Chrissy.” Kinda chuckling she adds, “Besides, the man’s so damn good looking, I guess we all sorta thought it wouldn’t matter what you guys had in common.”
Not chuckling and staring at my drink, “I can’t even see his beauty anymore.”
“Really, it’s that bad?”
“It’s that bad.”
“I’d be a wreck if my marriage was a mess like that.”
“Wow, Kel, you just made me feel about ten million times worse than I already felt. But hey, as long as your marriage is great, that’s all that matters, right?”
“I didn’t mean to make you feel worse. God, I was just saying this must be really hard for you.”
“THEN SAY THAT, THEN!”
“Okay, everybody calm the f*ck down! Chrissy’s marriage sucks, Kelly’s is great, mine and Courntey’s are so-so. Honestly, they’re all gonna suck at some point. Chrissy’s just sucks first. Let’s help her through this the best we can so she doesn’t abandon us when we’re in her shoes.”
Thank God for Nicole. You can always count on her to diffuse a sticky situation with a shot of humor. She puts her arm around my shoulder and speaks softly.
“So, when did you realize your marriage sucked so bad, hun?”
Then again, her humor can also make a crappy situation seem even crappier.
I roll my eyes over to Courtney to plead her to take this seriously.
“What Nicole meant to ask is when did you notice things were falling apart?”
“I’m not sure if things were ever together. But I guess my breaking point was after the miscarriage when he acted like it never even happened.”
“Sounds familiar.”
The three of us snap our heads in Kelly’s direction.
“What’s she talking about?”
“Yeah, what sounds familiar?”
Kelly’s looking at me like she’s sort of sorry she let the cat out of the bag.
“I’m sorry, Chrissy, I thought you would’ve told them by now.”
“Nope. Kurt wanted it to go away so I let it…sort of.”
“He wanted what to go away?!”
Right before their very eyes, I morph back into my long lost role as the 1987 cluster f*ck queen.
“Uh, I’ve been pregnant before, but I…we…didn’t keep it.”
In unison, Courtney and Nicole whip their heads in my direction and loudly whisper, “You had an abortion!?”
Now Kelly’s looking at me like she’s really sorry she let the cat of the bag.
“Hold on, Kelly knew about this?”
“What’s up with that? I thought we knew everything about each other. Any other secrets you two are keeping from me and Courtney?”
Crossing my fingers under the table, “I don’t know about Kelly, but I promise that’s the only one I’ve been keeping from you.”
“When did it happen?”
“Geez, Nic I can’t even deal with talking about that right now. It’d be like going back to Titanic and I don’t think I can.”
“I don’t care if it’s like reliving the friggin’ spiral perm you got three hours before our junior prom.” Turning to Courtney and Kelly like all of the sudden I’m invisible, “Remember that mess? She looked like Dee Snider from Twisted Sister, but with a f*cking bob haircut! What the hell was she thinking?”
“Hello…Nicole! I told you to NEVER bring that up!”
“Well then, speak! Now!”
“Okay, fine. It happened when I was seventeen.”
“IN HIGH SCHOOL?!”
“Yep, told you it was like going back to Titanic.”
*****
November 1986
“For f*ck sake, Chrissy, get up! We only have three weeks until Nationals and you aren’t trying!”
“I am trying, Kelly! I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I keep getting dizzy, and I don’t have the energy to get through the routine.”
“Then go sit on the bleachers so you’re not in the way!”
“Fine. I’ll be in the bath…”
“Chrissy! Omigod! Someone call 911!”
Twenty-five minutes later, with Kelly by my side, I’m on an emergency room table.
“Do you have a history of fainting?”
“No, and I didn’t faint. I got really dizzy.”
“Are you experiencing any flu like symptoms?
“No.”
“Are you more tired than usual?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sexually active?” Giggles. “I guess”.
“It says here you’re seventeen. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Are you taking precautions to protect yourself during intercourse?” More giggles. “Yeah, condoms.”
“Every single time?”
“Yes.”
That’s not the case, there was that one time, but I can’t admit that to this guy.
“Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”
“NO! No way. Gosh, I’m too young!”
“Miss, if you menstruate, you can get pregnant. You can be as young as twelve, even younger.
“Gross. But, no I’m not. I feel better now. Let’s go, Kelly.”
“Miss, I would feel better if we did a pregnancy test before you left. Don’t worry, it’s completely confidential. Your parents won’t find out about any of this.”
I’m looking at him like he’s f*cking nuts. I barely even know how to get pregnant, so how can I actually be pregnant? “No thank you. I’m fine. I just wanna go.”
“I’ll tell you what, let’s do the test, and if it’s negative, which I’m sure it will be, I’ll give you a three month supply of birth control pills. Does that sound like a good idea?”
I can get birth control pills without my mom knowing? That does sound like a good idea! Kelly’s looking at me like I’m the luckiest girl in the world.
“Sure.”
After a quick pee in a cup and a trip to the vending machine for a Dr. Pepper and a Snickers, my test comes back negative. Kelly and I head back to cheerleading practice with my little bag of birth control gold.
For the next four weeks I continue to suffer through practice, and even though I’m incredibly tired and lightheaded, I force myself to hide it from my squad. Nationals are a big deal. No squad from American High School, let alone any squad in Northern California, has ever qualified for this competition. One hundred of the best cheer squads from across the country are heading to Disneyland to compete and it’s being televised on ESPN. Granted, it’ll air at 2:30am on a Wednesday, but who cares! My squad has worked on our routine for three hours a day for the last six months, and I can’t let whatever the hell is wrong with me ruin this opportunity of a lifetime. It’ll have to wait until the competition is over. And that it did. The minute we got off the stage, I ran to the bathroom and threw up.
“Hurry, Chrissy! They’re about to announce the winners. What the heck…are you throwing up?”
“Kelly, what’s wrong with me?”
“I dunno. Maybe you’re getting sick from those birth control pills.”
“That’s impossible, I haven’t started taking them yet.”
“Why not?”
“The doctor told me not to start until the first Sunday after my next period.
I haven’t had it yet.”
“Chrissy, that was like, four weeks ago! When was your last period?”
“I guess like a month and a half ago. Maybe longer. I don’t keep track of that stuff.”
“Jesus, Chrissy, I think you might be pregnant after all. You should take another test.”
We ended up finishing fourth place at Nationals, which was pretty good considering it was our first ever appearance. I’m finally back home and back to reality. Time to tell Kurt the news.
“Kurt, I think I screwed up on something.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, I haven’t started my period yet.”
“Okay…”
“And I know the pregnancy test I took at the hospital turned out negative, but I’m scared, Kurt. With all of my dizziness, throwing up and stuff, I think I might be anyway.”
“Like you said, the test came out negative. Just give it another weekd and stop worrying so much.”
“Kurt, I haven’t had a period in seven weeks.”
All of a sudden he looks scared.
“You probably forgot you had one or something.”
“Kurt, I feel like I’m pregnant.” And then I lose it. “Oh God, but I can’t be! I’m a good girl, a f*cking all-American cheerleader for Christ sake! My parents are gonna die! What will happen to college? Oh my God, this can’t be happening!”
“Chrissy! Calm down! What do you want to do?”
Fifteen minutes later, we arrive at Planned Parenthood. He parks and doesn’t ask to join me inside. I’m alone.
Head down and speaking softly, I explain my situation to the man nurse person. He tells me it’s best to administer a blood test so we can get to the bottom of thingsd and like a jerk off he says, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. It’s best to remember how you’re feeling right now and do everything you can to prevent this situation in the future.”
I wanna say, “no shit,” but I keep my mouth shut. At least he doesn’t make me feel like a total slut, and for a minute I’m calm. The minute is over when he confirms that I am, in fact, pregnant.
“But when I took a test six weeks ago it was negative!”
“Well, sometimes when a pregnancy test is taken too close to conception it can’t detect enough hCG. That’s the substance produced by placental tissue, and it needs to be present in order to give you a positive result. Seems to me this is what happened to you.”
Hc… Placental… What the?!
“So you’re telling me I have a baby… growing inside of me… RIGHT NOW!?”
“That’s right, and if your calculations are correct, you’re probably about eight weeks pregnant.”
Doing the math in my head. Eight divided by four is… “OH MY GOD!”
With my head buried in my hands and barely able to speak, he asks me what
I plan to do about it. I don’t even know how to make dinner for myself yet. I turn every load of laundry pink, and I can still only manage to get a tampon half-way in. I’m just that inexperienced in life! Oh no! What about my prom? Will Kurt break up with me? How will my father explain this to his co-workers? My Mom will blame me for ruining her life. I’ll have to quit the squad! No! No! No!
“I have to get it out. Oh my God…I’m gonna have an abortion, aren’t I?”
“Well, that’s one option, but you can also give this baby up for adoption.”
“No, I can’t let anyone know I’m pregnant.”
About thirty minutes later, I walk out to Kurt who’s standing outside of the car. He takes one look at my smudged mascara and the large pamphlet of papers I’m carrying and mouths the words “oh shit.”
“Are you okay?”
“I will be next week when this is over with.”
“Whoa, we didn’t even talk about it yet.”
“Talk about what? Is this what you want with your life, to be an eighteen-year-old dad?”
“I’d be nineteen by the time you had it.”
“Big f*cking deal, Kurt! Look, I’m not some loser high school slut girl. Do you know how many people will laugh at me and get sick satisfaction over this happening? They’ll be like, “There’s prego Chrissy! She thought she was so cool being a cheerleader and dating Kurt Gibbons. What a loser!”
“Why do you care so much what people think about you?”
“BECAUSE I DO! PLUS, THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT I WOULD SAY ABOUT THEM!”
“Okay, okay calm down. It’s gonna be okay. I promise it’ll be okay. If this is your decision, then I’ll help you with it. When is it, and how much does it cost?”
Slightly hyperventilating, I tell him it’s next Saturday, and it will cost $400 with a local anesthetic and $300 without.
“I, I, I d d d d don’t have a a a a any money, Kurt!”
“Don’t worry. I think I can get about $300.”
Don’t worry? I’ve never had minor surgery, not even a cavity in my entire life and now I’m about to have a baby sucked out of my body without a local anesthetic! Jesus, sometimes I wonder how tough Kurt expects me to be. I’ve endured really scary four wheeling trips with him and been water skiing even though I’m more afraid of fish than anything in the world. I’ve run through fields of bulls, and I’ve fallen off of my bike about a thousand times because he wanted me to push myself to the extreme. And I did it all for love. But I wonder…in the name of love, am I supposed to settle for the cheapie abortion?
On Thursday night, two days before the abortion, I call Kelly.
“Hey, Kelly, what’s goin’ on?”
“Nothing, just watching Knott’s Landing and looking for something to wear to Joe’s party on Friday night. What are you gonna wear?”
“I’m not going.”
“What are you talking about? It’s gonna be killer!”
“I’m pregnant.”
“Oh, shit. I knew it. What are you gonna do?”
“I’m having a you-know-what on Saturday. I’m telling my mom that I’m staying the night at your house on Friday night, but Kurt and I are really staying at a motel near the place because we have to be there really early in the morning. Can you make sure you cover for me in case my mom calls your house to check if I’m really there?”
“What if I’m at Joe’s party when she calls?”
“God, Kelly, don’t go to the party!”
“Oh man, his parents are out of town, and it’s supposed to be totally rad but yeah, you’re right, I should probably stay home.”
“Probably or you will?”
After a longer than I’m comfortable with pause, “Fine, I’ll stay home.”
“I need another favor. I don’t want anyone to know, not even Nicole and Courtney.”
“Why?”
“You know Nicole will just crack some sick joke to try and cheer me up and Courtney will want to get her mom involved so that I get the best abortion money can buy. As if there can be one.”
“This really sucks, Chrissy. Who would’ve thought this could happen to you?”
Through my tears…“No one.”
Two days later, on January 2nd, instead of ringing in 1987, my high school graduation year, I’m on my way to the abortion clinic. I’m wearing my cheerleading sweat suit and a Minnie Mouse sweatshirt that I bought last month at Disneyland.
Strange choice of clothing, but it makes me feel somewhat official. I want the people at the clinic to think I’m a respectable girl, not one of those stoner chicks who cuts class to hang out by the bleachers and smokes. Just as Kurt parks the car, we notice the protestors.
“Jesus, this is the kinda thing after school specials are made of.”
“I’m so sorry you have to go through this, babe.”
On the one hand, I hate his guts for this, but on the other, I realize I’m the one who allowed it to happen and I only have myself to blame. I put so much faith in his eighteen years of experience, but really he’s just another dumb guy and I’m just another dumb girl who didn’t realize it until it was too late.
“Here’s the money. I’m sorry I couldn’t get more than $300. I feel terrible about all of this.”
My trembling hands carefully take the money. I’m glad this is almost over with because the last five days have been torture. I wanted to talk about every single aspect of the pregnancy since I found out about it. Kurt’s been totally incapable of talking about any of it.
I asked him to go to the library with me to get more information about abortions and the stages of pregnancy. He told me that I was only making things harder on myself. I wanted to talk about what it might be like if we did have it. Would it be a boy or a girl? What would we name it? I wondered out loud about what the abortion would feel like. Would I see the baby afterwards? Would they be able to determine the sex? The more I pressed on, the angrier he got with me. I know I was clear from the start that I didn’t want to keep the baby, but that didn’t mean I was numb to the fact that I was getting rid of it. I know Kurt holds himself to a higher standard than to do something like this. But so do I, and if he has any heart at all he’ll put his frustrations aside to support me and that’s my hope for after this thing is over.
“Do you want me to go with you, you know…inside?”
To say yes means I’m asking him to do something that he clearly doesn’t feel comfortable doing. I feel so let down, and I can hardly look at him. I’m quivering with emotions that I’m too young to describe. I want my mom. Sure she would make me feel like I ruined her life, but she wouldn’t let me walk into that scary place by myself and when it was all over, she would feed me soup and put warm washcloths on my forehead.
Tears are streaming down my face, and in my mind I’m pleading for him to insist that he comes with me.
“I think I’ll be okay.”
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
I wonder if he can hear our two little hearts breaking.
“I’m not sure how long this will take. They said it could be as long as five or six hours depending on how many other girls need one today.”
Please see how scared I am and come inside with me. Please want to protect me from the scary people who are yelling obscenities and carrying picket signs with pictures of shredded up fetuses on them.
“It’s not too late to change your mind. We can keep it.”
“No. I can’t.”
I take a deep breath and step out of the car to go do what I think I’m supposed to. The second my feet hit the ground, I’m swooped up by two men. I hope to God they’re not some crazy Pro Life freaks trying to kidnap me to make me have my baby in some abandoned warehouse or something.
“It’s okay, kiddo, we’re here to get you safely inside. Just keep your head down and walk fast.”
Yep, that’s me. The kidd-o-with the baby-o-in her stomach-o-. I turn back to glance at Kurt, but before I’m able to zoom in on him, the bodyguards open the door, shove me inside, and then slam it to go out and protect the next irresponsible slut. I look up and I’m shocked to see about fifteen other women crammed in the tiny overheated waiting room. I’m younger than all of them by at least five years and the ones I have eye contact with give me half smiles and nods of support that say, “It’ll be okay, honey.” I was hot in Kurt’s car, but I’m really hot now, and I’m sweating buckets through every single pore on my body. I’m also starving to death because I was instructed not to eat, which is odd since I’m not getting any F*ckING anesthetic. This place is underground seedy gross and it smells like burnt rubber and sweat. What’s that noise? Sounds like a vacuum cleaner. Oh my God, that’s not a vacuum cleaner…it’s the killing machine! On, off, on, off, on, off. Jesus, how many girls are back there? Oh my gosh, I have to sit down. Can’t see so well. What’s that sound? BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Is it…my heart? Oh God, what if it’s the baby’s heart! I can’t see. I close my eyes tightly and I see the sound. Swirling around in my mind is one of those scary toy monkeys banging its symbols together. It’s laughing at me. It’s getting louder! I’m so thirsty. Need water NOW. I reach out to the person in front of me and try as hard as I can to focus, but all I see and hear is the evil monkey.
“Sweetie, are you okay?”
“I can’t…can’t stand.”
“What’s that? I can barely hear you.”
I extend my hand out to the lady for support but before it reaches her, my knees crumble and the entire room turns into the color of a bruise. The only things I’m aware of are the evil monkey and the enormous fart exploding out of my body. My last conscious thought before I hit the floor is, could my life possibly get any worse?
“Well hi there, Minnie. We we’re worried about you there for a minute. Here, drink some of this water.”
I take little sips and stare at her from above the lip of the cup. Minnie?
“What happened to me?”
“You fainted. Don’t worry, you’re not the first. They keep that waiting room so darn hot! Now, let’s sit you up and start filling out some paperwork.” She points to my Disneyland sweatshirt and says, “Can’t keep calling you Minnie forever.”
I like her.
The rest of the day is a nightmare I don’t wish on any girl, woman, slut, whore, whoever. I’m shoved into a room with three pieces of white trash who are way too proud of their gang affiliation. We’re expected to watch hours of videos of our options: keep the baby, put the baby up for adoption, or abort the baby. But truthfully it’s hard to focus with all their gang talk, looks of intimidation, and fake farting noises. It doesn’t matter though. I know my only choice is to have an abortion and that’s exactly what I tell the head of the baby-killing department at my last pit stop before finally being guided to the room where they do the procedure. It’s a horrible room, and it makes me sad…like Anne Frank sad. The walls are grey and artless; the air is stale and smells like death. I’m tired, I’m hungry, and even though I just want to get this over with and forget it ever happened, I don’t feel like it’s fair to the thing growing inside of me to do that.
I have to find a price to pay for my irresponsibility. As I walk to the exam table, I notice a pale blue dish-washing bucket strategically placed underneath. Great, my baby will end up in a bucket. Is that sanitary? As instructed, I take off my clothes and slip into the paper gown to wait for the murderers. It makes me scared…Anne Frank scared. Should I run? If I do, will we stand a chance of surviving? Did I just say we? Am I considering its feelings? I can hear the murderers marching down the hall and panic attacks me…Anne Frank panic. Without even a courtesy knock, they barge through the bookshelf, I mean door, and without introduction they instruct me to lie down. How can all these people allow this to happen? Oh Anne, is that what you thought too? Jesus, they’re about to stop a heartbeat! But wait… I’m the one who gave them the command! Who am I, Anne or Hitler?! Am I good or evil!? Is this the thing that forevermore makes me one or the other? The gravity of the situation didn’t hit me until this very moment. Seriously, no video outlining my options could prepare me for how morbid this is. If they wanted me to really consider my options, they should’ve made me watch a video of an actual abortion, given me a tour of this very room, and then made me sit alone in it with the bucket and my Anne Frank thoughts. Oh God, I’m torn between wanting them to save the baby’s life and making it easier for me to go back to mine. My eyes are darting around the room pleading for someone to question my choice just one more time. Somebody give me an honorable command! PLEASE! Where’s my nice nurse? I need my nice nurse!
The only guy in the room flicks on a machine and commands me to lie still. No honor there. He pries my legs apart and instructs me that his job will be a lot easier if I just relax. Relax? The f*cker’s shoving a hoover vacuum cleaner inside of me and he wants me to relax?! I’M ONLY SEVENTEEN, AND I HAVEN’T BEEN SEDATED!
“Young lady, you’re going to have to lie still so I can finish.”
“I don’t think I…wait, it started? I DON’T WANT TO DO THIS!”
“Nurse, get a handle on this girl! We can’t stop now.”
“Minnie, I need to you relax, sweetheart. I’m sorry you have to go through this, but right now the worst thing you can do is tense up. Look at me sweetie. Look in my eyes. We’re almost done. A few more minutes and we’re done. Shhhhhh, it’s gonna be fine. Shhhhhhhh. There we go, Minnie, it’s over.”
Nice as my nurse was, she had to run off and kill another baby, so she left me alone on the table, naked from the waist down, bleeding, and terrified to move. I just killed the first thing I’ve ever known to have died. The persecuted side of me wants to burst into tears but the executioner side of me says I have no right to be melodramatic, so I lay traumatized on the cold table until the person pounding on the other side of the door tells me my time is up. Next to me, I find a pad as big as a queen size mattress. I scoot off the table and with trembling hands remove the adhesive tape and put it on my underwear. As I bend down to pull it up from my ankles, I see the bucket. My price to pay. Looking at the carnage of my irresponsibility, I know I’ll carry the pain of my poor choice around with me the rest of my life.
*****
“I’m so sorry Chrissy.”
“Nothing for you to be sorry for, Courtney. I’m the stupid idiot.”
“I still can’t believe you didn’t let Nicole and me in on this. We would’ve wanted to help you through it, too.”
“Well, no offense to Kelly, but it’s not like she helped me through anything. In fact, this is the first time she’s ever heard me talk about it.”
“I didn’t know you needed to.”
“I did. But I really needed to talk about it with Kurt and he wanted nothing to do with the subject, so I let it go.”
“Are you angry?”
“Of course I am.”
“Who are you angry at though, yourself or him?”
“I’m trying to figure that out, Court.” Finally chuckling a little, I ask, “Do you guys realize you probably know Kurt just as well as I do?”
They’re looking at me like I’m nuts.
“Seriously. There’s no behind closed doors Kurt and Chrissy. What you see is what you get and it’s not enough anymore. I want a deeper connection to the man I’m married to. I’m gonna try to get it by taking him to my therapist, but deep down, I think it’s pointless.”
“You have to try.”
“For how long, Kelly? How long am I supposed to feel ignored? What if Craig blew off your pain, told you to quit bringing up stuff that bothered you?”
“He wouldn’t.”
“Exactly. And I want my happiness, my sadness, my joy, my pain to be the most important things in the world to Kurt, just like yours is to Craig. I want to dream out loud with him without it turning into an argument. I want to show up to weddings, parties, and funerals with him instead of alone.”
“Hey, that’s right! That bastard didn’t go to my wedding did he?! He was at some bullshit tradeshow!”
“No, Nicole, he was surfing.”
“Then why did you… “
“Because it’s Goddamn humiliating, that’s why!”
Courtney moves towards me and places a drink in my hand as if she’s giving me pain medication. It’s cute until she says something logical.
“Just keep your expectations of therapy and marriage realistic, Chrissy. Life’s not supposed to be a fairytale all the time.”
Oh yeah? Well mine is.