I sigh and set the timer on my phone. I place the pregnancy test on the table so that I’m not looking down at it every few seconds.
“It’ll be okay, Blaire. Either way.” I know he’s picked up on my tension.
I nod once woodenly. There’s nothing else I can do right now but wait.
When the timer on my phone goes off in my lap, I jump. I press the button to stop it and then I sit there. I’m completely frozen, terrified to move.
“Do you want me to look first?” he asks me.
I shake my head. I know I have to be the one to do this, but I need one more second—one last moment to hope.
I exhale and reach forward, picking up the test. I don’t look right away, still clinging to a fraying shred of rope. I let go of that rope and look down.
It’s positive.
I choke on a sob and cover my mouth with my hand. I’m having a baby. Ben’s baby. It’s actually happening, and I hold the proof in the palm of my hand.
“Is that a good cry or a bad cry?” he questions. “Shit, Blaire. You’re scarin’ me.”
“What’s going on?” I look up to find my mom walking into the room. The ends of her hair are damp, and she’s wrapped in a pink robe.
I hold out the test to her and she takes it. She squints down at the small screen. Her mouth slowly parts in surprise. “You’re pregnant?” She grins.
I nod and tears—tears of happiness—roll down my cheeks. “I’m having a baby,” I whisper. It’s really happening. It’s the first good thing to happen to me since Ben died. I’m still scared shitless, and I know I have a long way to go before I’m okay, but this … this makes me happy.
My mom sets the test down on the coffee table and sits down beside me on the couch.
“Oh, Blaire, I’m so happy for you.” She hugs me.
“Thank you.” I hug her back, crying into her shoulder. She doesn’t complain, though, she lets me hold on and cry. I finally pull away and my dad holds a tissue out for me. “Thanks,” I say and take it, dabbing at my eyes.
“I’ll make you a doctor’s appointment,” my mom tells me, clapping her hands together. “You want to make sure everything’s okay before you tell anyone,” she warns.
I nod in agreement.
“Well, Kid,” my dad speaks up, “you ready to raise your own kid?”
I laugh. “I guess I have to be.” I look down. More tears form in my eyes. I take my mom’s hand in mine and squeeze. “We were trying to have a baby before … before …” I can’t say the words out loud. Thinking them is bad enough.
My mom nods and brushes a few errant hairs off my forehead. “This baby is special,” she says, tears pooling in her eyes. “This is a little piece of Ben left on this Earth. Not everyone gets that, B.”
“I know,” I whisper and wet my lips with my tongue.
Suddenly, I feel a slight bit of cool air brush against my cheek. I close my eyes.
Ben’s here—I know he is.
We’re having a baby, I tell him.
The cold air brushes against me again.
I take that to mean, I know.
My leg bounces nervously as I sit in the doctor’s office, waiting for them to call my name. My mom wanted to come with me, but I insisted on going by myself. I probably should’ve let her join me, but I was afraid she’d make me more nervous than I already am.
“Blaire Kessler?” a nurse calls my name.
I grab my purse and stand. “That’s me,” I say unnecessarily.
She smiles pleasantly. “Hi, how are you?”
“Good,” I mumble, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans as I follow her down the hall.
The walls are painted a horrid tan color with brown trim. I’ll never understand why doctors’ offices are always painted such dull colors. She leads me into a room, and I take a seat on the crinkly white paper covered bed.
“So, Blaire you think you’re pregnant?” she asks.
I nod. “That’s what the test said.”
She smiles. “About how far long are you, do you think?”
My nose crinkles in thought. “Probably around six almost seven weeks.” I feel a crushing weight on my chest. That would mean I might’ve gotten pregnant the last night Ben was alive. I suddenly feel sick.
“Okay, so newly pregnant then.” She writes something down.
“Well, I don’t think I’m about to give birth in a toilet, if that’s what you mean.” I laugh awkwardly.
“Change into this gown,” she says, pulling one from a drawer. “The doctor will have to do a vaginal ultrasound.”
I pale. “That sounds painful.” I take the gown from her hands.
“It’s not too bad,” she says and stands. “The doctor will be in soon.”
I nod and with one last smile she leaves me alone.
“Breathe, Blaire,” I whisper-hiss to myself. I exhale a long breath and change into the gown. I sit back down and let my now bare legs dangle beneath me. The paper is scratchy beneath me, and I find myself wringing the cotton gown between my fingers. My eyes flicker to the clock above the door. It ticks endlessly as I wait for the doctor arrive.