Written by: Corinne DiOrio
I was freshly twenty-two when I had first felt the pangs of morning sickness. When I told his father, my boyfriend of only five months at the time about my discovery, he was less than pleased.
“What do you mean ‘pregnant?’” He asked, grabbing the stick I had just wiped my piss off of. “This can’t be right. I’ll get you another one.” And that he did. Less than an hour later, he bought me three more packages of Clear Blue pregnancy tests. “It says it’s most accurate in the morning. Did you try it in the morning? Have you been drinking? Alcohol might change the result somehow, right?” He was overwrought, googling facts about false positives, hovering outside the bathroom door in his shared two-bedroom apartment every time I tested.
“I’m really, really pregnant, Tom.” I handed him the last test I would take before going to the doctor.
He looked down and nodded his head, accepting this reality. He was right for asking about the alcohol. I hadn’t gone a week without getting blacked out in some dive bar, or even a day without a bottle of Chianti before bed. Tom had this fetishized idea of my addiction. He thought I was reckless and carefree, but in reality, I was just good at hiding what had been going on for years before I met him. Part of me hoped having a baby would change things somehow, that it would give me something to truly care about, that I would have to be more responsible, and then maybe my drinking habits would dissipate. It was selfish, really.
Our idea of fate was different, though. For the next few weeks, every time I stopped by, he had another pile of my clothes neatly folded on his desk.
“I folded some of your things, it’s getting a bit cluttered in here.” He would say.
And I would smile shyly, understanding what this really meant. Understanding that Tom wanted no part of this, but also understanding why. We hadn’t been together that long, we were just out of college a year, working minimum wage internships. I wasn’t sure I even wanted this for the right reasons, but I knew I wanted it so badly. And I wasn’t going to try and fight for a father who didn’t really want to be a father.
Edited by Emily Chance