Dumped (35) - FINAL CHAPTER

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RECAP:

“Hi Ms. Carter, this is Dr. Rita Montgomery, from the Goleta Mission Hospital.”

Not my mom.

Please, not my mom.

Please.

Please.

Please.

“Um, oh yeah. Hi. Is this about my mom?” I asked, as my heart began to race.

Jeremy stepped out of the car, and stared at me curiously.

“Oh no, not at all. We’ve just received the results of your check-ups”, she replied.

I let out a sigh. My mom had made all of us – my dad, my sisters, Jerry, Willow and I – take medical tests, just to make sure everything was alright, and that none of us were going to be dropping dead anytime soon. I could understand her paranoia, but it was no fun at all being poked and prodded for days.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, feeling my heart rate slow. Jeremy was standing in front of me, looking slightly worried.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. But, we found some human chorionic gonadotropin in your bloodstream.”

I hated it when doctors assumed you’d understand everything they were saying.

“Okay, what does that mean?” I asked, as patiently as possible.

“It means you’re pregnant.”

35

I snorted right into phone. “I’m sorry. What?” I said into the phone. Jeremy gave me a questioning look.

“You’re six weeks pregnant” she said.

My heart rate sped up, and I could feel the fear starting to creep in.

Please let this be a joke, I pled with the universe. Please.

“What?” I breathed.

“You’re six weeks pregnant” she repeated.

But, I knew it at the back of my mind; doctors don’t joke around with those kinds of things.

I stood open-mouthed for a second, avoiding Jeremy’s confused gaze. Confused did not even begin to cut what I felt right then. Pure understatement.

Pregnant.

“Would you like to come in? So we can discuss procedure and future check-ups and things like that?”

Pregnant?

Me, pregnant. Bun in the oven. With child.

It was totally impossible.

I couldn’t be pregnant. I mean, I’d been on the Pill; I thought the whole purpose of that was to prevent pregnancy. And, okay, maybe I’d missed a couple doses, but really. What are the odds?

I could not be pregnant.

“What is it?” Jeremy whispered. I could just see my expressions right then – surfacing, shock; beneath, confusion; and beneath that; fear. Or worry. Or maybe a bit of both.

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