(6 months later)
"What must one do to get dinner?" I ask as I walk, no wobble into the kitchen.
I look like I had swallowed a balloon, or am smuggling a watermelon in my shirt. This baby must be huge, another thing that I have to look forward too.
I used to believe that I had a lot of doctors appointments, but that is nothing compared to now. I see Dr. Maria at least twice a week now, as well as a doctor to check on the baby, and for some unknown reason, my mother, whom keeps checking my blood pressure every five minutes or so.
"Sure honey." My mother has been nothing but busy for the past six months. Planning out a nursery to take up half of my room, and making sure that I am eating and drinking twenty four hours a day. I would say that it is normal for a mom to do these things for their children, but being a pregnant teenager with cancer gives me the right to say that nothing is normal.
I waddle into the living room, where dad sits, staring blankly at the screen as a basketball player makes a slam dunk.
I must weigh as much as him now, probably more. I drop down onto the couch, the after effects almost make him fly off of his seat. I suppose that this baby really will be quite heavy.
He gives me a neutral look, and quickly moves his attention back to the television. This is exactly how the past six months have been with him, quick glares, and basically ignoring me. I suppose that it is better then getting yelled at for what Augustus and I did, but it still hurts.
Parents should stick up for their kids, and help them through any situation, even this. I am glad that this happened on the basis that a piece of Augustus is still left, I don't understand why my father doesn't see or understand that.
What if mom had me at 16? Would he ignore and shun her? Will he disown me, and never want any association with us? I highly doubt it, he would be the first one to start picking out names.
Eventually, I sigh and heave myself off the couch, pulling my weight is with my arms. I waddle back to my bedroom where a plate of chicken and roasted potatoes awaits. I set up my computer on my bed, and play a movie while I eat, slowly taking picking up forkful by forkful every minute or so. I somehow nod off, the last words I hear are, "Okay?"
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