By thinking things couldn't possibly get lower, I had jinxed it. I had jinxed my entire life, my entire future. Things could get worse. Things could get so much worse.
Pacing alone in my room with a mix of anxiety and worry, I tried to wrap my head around the fact that I might be with child. Tammy had quickly left my room to send Darius on an emergency trip to the nearest place that sold pregnancy tests.
This couldn't be happening. It was impossible. My IUD was good for at least another three years. The probabilities of me being pregnant were ridiculous, regardless of how much sex Lex and I had been having. But even if the odds were highly unlikely, it was still possible. It wouldn't be the first time a nearly perfect contraception failed.
The harder I thought about it, the more it made sense. The mood swings, the crying, the nausea... I'd put all of this on the messed up situation, but what if those were symptoms? What if I was really pregnant?
Flattening a hand over my stomach, right where there possibly was a small life growing, I tried to think of the consequences it would bring. Now was about the worst possible moment to have a child. My life was a mess, everything was crumbling around me, I didn't even know if Lex would get out.
Thinking of Lex suddenly reminded me I wasn't the only one concerned by the issue.
What would he think of this? What would he want? How would he react?
Although we'd spoken about having children, we'd done it in a hypothetical way, thinking of it as a thing of the future. Even if Lex was out right now and none of the mess was happening, he might still have been opposed to having a baby so early. For fuck's sake, we hadn't even been dating for six months. Even I would have been against having this child, knowing we could have all the time in the world to do it at a better time. Or at least all the time my body would allow.
I wanted kids, I really did, especially with him. But not right now. I wasn't ready to be a mom. Not even near prepared for it. But this was possibly the only way we would ever have a child. Federal prisons didn't allow conjugal visits, and even if they did, Lex wouldn't let me see him again if he was convicted.
If I was indeed pregnant, if there was a tiny little life growing within me, half-him and half-me, this could be my only shot at ever holding our baby in my arms. Unless he came out, of course.
The hope that I was pregnant, and the idea of keeping it, made its way into my mind. The odds weren't looking good for Lex. I had no insurance he'd be free despite all the wishful thinking I forced onto myself. This could be the only way he'd ever have a legacy, the only way his incredible genes would be passed on. Somehow, a part of him would keep on living in the outside world, and it felt as if it was the least I could do.
I could see it, how I'd raise our baby to be an amazing person, seeing Lex more and more as the child grew. The thought of having a baby boy, a mini Lex, had me hoping even harder I was pregnant. A beautiful boy with steel-gray eyes, dark hair, and a remarkable intellect. A tiny genius taking after his incredible father.
But given our conversation earlier, I had to face the fact that he wouldn't want me to keep the baby if there was one. He'd been so adamant about pushing me away from him, I was sure he'd be entirely opposed to me raising his child alone. He wanted us to cut all ties, and that was the biggest, most important tie I could think of. If I was pregnant and kept it, he would forever be a part of my life — whether or not he came out.
My head was spinning, dizzy with all the answerless questions I was having. Feeling lightheaded, I worried I might pass out, overwhelmed by the terrible thoughts. Instead of pacing the room, I sat on my bed, my limbs trembling with fear and hope. Tammy came back at that exact moment, anguish plastered on her familiar face. She came to sit with me, and since I was staring at the floor, unable to focus on anything else, she took my hand, communicating her compassion for my situation the best way she could.
What of that poor child? What would it be like for this sweet, innocent soul to be raised without a father? Even worse, to be raised with one spending the rest of his life in prison?
It was cruel and selfish of me to consider putting anyone through this, because I knew how mean society could be. All the mockery and the awful things this child would endure would be my fault. I'd be the one imposing this kind of life on my very own child, the being I would be bound to love the most in this world.
Shit, the fact that Lex wouldn't even get to raise his own child was heartbreaking. What would it be like for him?
It was possible he would change his mind about never seeing me again if his child was growing in me. His own experience with his father would make him wish something better for his own offspring. Which was why he'd never want me to go through the pregnancy. But if I didn't give him a choice, he would have to reconsider his initial strategy and take the new parameters into consideration.
As awful as it may sound, the idea of using this potential child to ensure that I would keep seeing Lex was one I was willing to consider. I couldn't accept that we'd just be over if he lost the trial. He was doing what he thought was best for me, but it would equal forcing me to live the rest of my life missing a huge part of myself. Lex was even more important than a limb, and I couldn't let go.
But what would our lives be like?
I could imagine myself visiting him with our child, week after week, month after month, year after year... What sort of life was that? It sounded like some awful torture, one all three of us would be subjected to. Lex would get to see his child grow up but wouldn't be able to participate in their upbringing. Our progeny would live with this heavy weight, knowing their father was a criminal, forced to see him without ever truly knowing him. And I would have to watch them both suffer, knowing I was responsible for their pain.
My body started to tremble from the torment my mind was under, and I didn't realize it until Tammy bent to hug me tightly, trying to relieve part of the psychological ache.
I couldn't be pregnant. This couldn't happen, it would be so wrong on so many levels.
But I hoped I was with everything I had. I wanted to have this left of him, the only thing that would remain of our short but intense encounter. I wanted to carry his child so he would change his mind and keep seeing me regardless of the trial's outcome. I wanted to be pregnant because it could be the only way I'd ever hold our baby.
All of this was so selfish and cruel, but at that very moment, I couldn't think rationally. If this was my only shot at having Lex's child, I would take it.
It was impossible to tell how long we remained like this, sitting on my bed in silence, Tammy's arms wrapped around me, while thoughts ran havoc in my mind. I didn't even hear when Darius came back until his gentle knocks on my door reminded me of the mission he'd been on.
If he'd found a test, I would know within minutes if I was pregnant or not. I needed to take it, needed to know exactly what state I was in. But finding out terrified me. Regardless of the outcome, my sorrow would be equally great.
The door opened slowly, and Darius passed his head through the opening. Tammy let go of me, pressing a reassuring hand on my shoulder instead. "I've got the tests," Darius announced, bringing a hand forward to show the bag he was holding. Bringing his other hand up, he showed us another bag. "I also bought two buckets of ice cream. Chocolate and vanilla."
The considerate gesture barely brought a smile to my face, my mind too preoccupied to acknowledge anything other than the terrible reality that was about to dawn on me.
With Tammy's encouragement, I rose from my bed to head to the door. I took the bag with the tests from Darius, offering him a faint "Thank you," and then went to the bathroom. Leaning on the door, I lifted my face to the heavens. I wanted to say a silent prayer, but I didn't know which one.
I couldn't be pregnant. For so many reasons, this couldn't happen. It would go against so many things, my own morals, Lex's will, basic decency... But I hoped I was, for so many other reasons. It would give me a piece of him that would remain with me forever, it would give him a legacy, keep us close...
Shit, this was such a clusterfuck. Reason and feelings were fighting each other, harshly colliding in a fierce confrontation, but none was winning.
It didn't matter what the test would say, it would feel like a punishment. It would bring me pain and heartache. There was no winning in this situation, only loss. The loss of my principle, of decency and good sense, or the loss of our hopes for a family, of the future we'd spoken of.
I didn't want to take the test. I didn't want to have my mind broken, didn't want to know which side I would lose. But this state of agonizing uncertainty was hard to bear too, and it would last for as long as I didn't know. I needed my answer, regardless of how much it would hurt, so I could slowly start to heal from whatever blow the tests would inflict on me.
With a heavy sigh, I looked down at the content of the bag, holding it open with both hands. One of the boxes was blue, and the other pink. I was thankful for Darius to have taken two tests, as I already knew the 1% possibility of mistake would have been enough to keep torturing myself. If both tests came back with the same results, I would have my answer.
I'd only taken pregnancy tests three times in my life before, but never had it been so conflicting, so poignant. Twice, I'd known I wouldn't have the baby regardless because I was too young and didn't love the potential father. The third time was following a one-night stand. We had used a condom, but the lack of incoming period had worried me.
Moving away from the door, I settled the bag on the counter by the sink. After a quick read of the back of the boxes, I opened them to fish out the sticks and stared at them with anguish. I observed the openings where the results were supposed to appear after the three minutes wait. It was impossible to know if I wanted it to have two bars or a single one. I wanted both and none with equal intensity.
Reluctantly, I went to sit on the toilet and took the tests, feeling uncomfortable and conflicted, wondering if it wasn't better to not know. Once the deed was done, I put the caps back onto the sticks and left them on the closed lid of the bowl, moving to sit on the floor with my back against the glass shower door. I didn't have any way to tell the time, so I counted instead. With each number, I was more apprehensive to know the truth. I counted all the way to a hundred and eighty seconds — the required time — and then kept counting.
This was a Schrödinger's cat sort of situation. For as long as I didn't look at the results, I was both pregnant and not. For as long as I didn't glimpse at the sticks waiting on the toilet, they both had one and two bars. I would have Lex's baby, we would have this unbreakable link between us for the rest of eternity, but I would also not go against his will and have a child he wouldn't want me to have. I would see the man I loved in the child I would raise, but I wouldn't impose this awful life on the poor kid either.
Everything was possible as long as I didn't look at the sticks. But once I did, I would have to grieve in some way.
I was reaching five hundred seconds when someone knocked on the door. It was Tammy, who was understandably worried about me. I'd been in here for over ten minutes by now.
"So?" she signed, glimpsing at the sticks on the toilet lid.
"I don't know yet. I'm scared to know."
She offered me a concerned smile. "Do you want me to look?"
I shook my head, grateful for her proposition. I was only delaying the unavoidable. The truth would come out eventually, regardless of how much I wanted to remain in denial. "I can do it. But thanks, Tammy."
Another shy smile crossed her face, and then she left me alone with my thoughts and worries again. From my venture point, I glared at the tests, almost hoping I could make out their results. The contradictions of my state of mind were absurd, but I couldn't help the conflicting thoughts.
Because I would never have my answer if I didn't overcome my apprehensions, I impulsively moved to grab the two sticks, before leaning back into the shower stall. With my eyes firmly closed shut, I tried to prepare myself mentally for whatever result I would get. There would be downsides and upsides to it no matter what, and I had to cling to the upsides.
I wanted Lex to be here with me. I wanted him to hold my hand, to hold me whole, to tell me it would all be fine. I wanted to know he was okay with whatever confirmation I'd have, negative or positive. I wanted him to tell me he'd be out soon to help me raise our child; I wanted him to tell me it was okay, we'd have other occasions to conceive one...
I would have given anything to have him by my side right now, sitting on the floor of the small bathroom I shared with Tammy. But he wasn't, so I would have to be strong without his reassuring presence to help me.
I opened my eyes, my gaze instantly falling on the tests I was holding. I checked the results, double-checked, triple-checked... The answer I'd been looking for was clear and undeniable, impossible to counter or dispute. There it was, one of the two awful outcomes I'd been apprehending and hoping.
Conflicted tears of sadness and relief flooded my cheeks. It hurt to know, but I needed to. For my sanity, for my future. Our future. Denial wouldn't have protected any of us from the harsh reality.
I cried for everything that was lost, for everything that was gained. I cried for the future, cried for what had been taken from us. In my utter despair, it was hard to think rationally. There was still a chance that Lex would get out. He could win the trial, and we could raise a child together. The family life we'd both wanted to have could still happen. Not everything was lost.
When Tammy came back, I was still crying, still feeling like this future wasn't one I wanted, not one that was right. She came to me and took the tests from my trembling hands, wanting to know what had me sobbing uncontrollably.
Her eyebrows turned into an irregular line of confusion, and she offered me a look full of pity and compassion.
My womb was as empty of his child as my hopes were for our future.
Aside from the memories, I might have nothing left of him. After everything, I wouldn't even have this left of him. After all we'd been through, all the dreams and talks we'd had, I might never carry his child.
The thought made my tears intensify, my arms wrapping around my stomach, as if to protect the small life that had never been there to start with.
If we didn't win the trial, I would lose Lex entirely. I would never see him again. And I'd just lost the only leverage I could have had.