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Step Thirty-Nine

Sitting on the tiled floor of my bathroom I pondered how was I so stupid before. All of the signs were there forever; nausea, throwing up, missed periods, mood swings. They all stared at me in the face, giving me ample time to catch on, but I ignored all of them. And in three minutes I'll know whether or not a little baby,a perfect mix of Calvin and me, is growing in my stomach.

And then how do I deal with him?

Throwing my head back, I breathed a deep breathe. At thirteen years old my Doctor told me I would most likely never be able to conceive. To put it in English, without medical terms, she told me the odds were as good as a pigs falling from the sky; Hell freezing over; a foot growing out of your neck as you watch it. Get the picture? She described to me how if I were to ever get pregnant, I would need immediate medical attention because it would be high-risk. From having sex so young, or in my case being raped, and not having the proper liquids flowing...it damages the womb and eggs, making conception hard.

Long story short, she told me if I were to get pregnant the chances of the pregnancy being seen all the way through would take some kind of miracle.

And then I didn't care.

I was coming to terms with the fact my Dad manipulated me and molested me all my life. I was transferring to an All Girls School because the thought of being around another Male burned. So I didn't care to have kids, because I didn't even want to get married, or date, or befriend anyone of the opposite gender.

But now...the effects hit.

Not that I particularly want a child now, I mean, I'm in college, currently jobless, and just told the Father I want absolutely nothing else to do with him. A baby doesn't quite fit well in there. But even deeper than that, I might not be able to carry all the way through, and that hurts worse than any other reason I can think of of why these tests should come out negative. Can I really handle a miscarriage? I mean, if this test comes out positive there is absolutely no way I would get an abortion, which I know is what the Doctor will try and talk me into. That's as equal to murder to me as anything else. So of course I would keep this child for as long as possible at no cost. But what if me being as strong as possible isn't good enough?

Before I could torture myself anymore the timer on my phone dinged. I got off of the floor and went to the sink counter where I had the test lined against the counter. I walked down each, staring at the test in pure surprise.

Every single one was positive.

Sitting in bed with my TV on some gossip channel and phone in hand I tried to will myself to tell press Call. I had been sitting here for the last two hours, every muscle fitting against me to move.

Will he even answer? If he does,what would I say? I can't just be like 'Hey, I know I said I never want to talk to you again,and for the past two days you've respected my request, but now I'm pregnant and the baby can possibly die because I'm high risk but yeah, I just thought you should know.' ? That is stupid and cruel and...insensitive.

And then it dawns on me the baby can die. There is a possibility I could be pregnant today, and not next week. So I would open wounds for what reason? I'll have to suffer, but should I make him have too also?

But shouldn't he have the right to know? This is his child too, it took two to make it. So he has a definite right to know about this baby, right?

God where is someone when you need it?

Speaking of God...

"Please help me make the right decision." I prayed, closing my eyes as I clutched the phone in between my fingers. "Please,please,please help me make the right decision."

When I opened my eyes I saw a picture of the group on the TV screen. I turned the volume up, scooting to the edge of my bed.

"In recent reports the teen sensation Backstreet have made an announcement as of yesterday revealing they will be going on their first Worldwide Global Tour!" The perky host said as shots of the group during concerts and meeting with fans flashed across the screen. "Yes, in six months the group will make their first stop in London and from then on hit every major country in all nine continents, as well as smaller ones. The official list can be found on their website, and in all it will be two years long..."

My mind went blank. In six months they would be launching a global tour for two years, and these things aren't planned on short notice. They had to have known about this at least a year in advance. If my math is right, I'm about to be three months, and if that's the case when they start touring I'll be nine

months and expected to be in labor just about any day.

Was this my answer? Is this what God wanted me to see? No, he wouldn't want that. He wouldn't want any children to grow without both parents. But, no matter what I decide, those first two years would be without a Father, because he'd be touring. And even after that they'll sky-rocket into fame even higher than they are now.

And I refuse to interfere in his career. That's a move I don't want to make. It'll be hard enough keeping my pregnancy a secret now, do I want the world to know that the father is CJ from Backstreet, whom I've shut down numerous rumors that we were ever really together at all? Any hope of privacy would be thrown out like a Spider in the bedroom. But mostly, I don't want to ruin his career. One of us is already going down, do I want both of us too?

With those thoughts in mind, I sat my phone down, tucked myself in my covers, and cried myself to sleep.

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