“Come on,” he insisted. “Look, it’s not that heavy.” He held up the box with one hand. “And once you drop it off in the storage room, you can take your break.” He said it as if he were doing me a favor.
“Okay.” I sighed but grabbed the box, knowing one of the other employees could’ve carried it upstairs.
But whatever.
On my way to the stairs, I made a mental list of the positives of my job.
One: I got paid every week.
Since Ace’s job paid him bimonthly, my weekly paycheck was what helped keep us afloat until his next check came in.
Two: I liked most of my co-workers.
Three: The customers were friendly.
“Ah,” I yelped after tripping on one of the stairs and landing awkwardly on my side. “Shit.”
I dropped the box in my hands and immediately grasped for my belly. My first concern was for my baby.
“Are you okay in there?” I asked AJ, as I’d come to call him affectionately. It was short for Ace Junior, but his dad was still on the fence about naming his son after him.
He wanted him to have his own identity, he’d told me. But I loved the idea of having a junior and senior in the family. It probably stemmed from my lack of family throughout my life.
“Okay,” I said, relieved when I felt AJ kick in my womb. I paused, trying to feel if there was any pain.
My butt was a little sore from where I fell, but it wasn’t too bad. As I lifted myself up again, I winced. I’d likely have a bruise on my ass. Indeed, I’d have to explain that one to Ace.
He wouldn’t be happy about it.
He’d wanted me to quit my job almost as soon as we found out that I was pregnant. He hated that I stood on my feet for eight hours a day while carrying our child. But we needed the money.
I felt okay as I went up the stairs. By the time I got to the top, my bladder screamed to be emptied.
Eventually, as time passed that day, I forgot about the fall. I assumed that both AJ and I were all right. For a brief moment, I considered calling the clinic where I went for my prenatal care to make an appointment, but knew that would cost a considerable amount of money we couldn’t afford at that time.
Hours later, when I got off and walked back home to our apartment, I started to feel a twinge of pain in my lower back.
I knew back pain was yet another symptom of many pregnancies because of the expanding belly area. But when the pain grew stronger over the next few hours, I started to worry.
That was when I made the first call to the clinic.
“No, there’s no spotting,” I told the woman on the other end of the phone.
“Hang on,” she said before I could get in another word.
I paced back and forth, breathing heavily, trying to will the pain to go away. It did stop by the time the woman came back on the line.
“Yeah, it might be nothing since there’s no spotting. But you can make an appointment if you’d like. What insurance are you with?”
My heart sank. I hated that question. Our insurance sucked, and very few healthcare providers in the area accepted it.
“Hold on again,” the receptionist said again.
I blew out a deep breath. Feeling defeated, I chose not to wait for her to come back to the line. The pain had stopped, and I was just probably overreacting. First-time mom jitters and all.
These were likely Braxton Hicks contractions, I reasoned. I'd felt them for the past two months.
I told myself to chill out and started to make dinner. Ace would be home from his shift in the next hour. All we had was some leftover ground meat that I’d taken out of the freezer that morning and a box of Hamburger Helper. We did have some fresh vegetables that I’d bought the day before, so I could prepare a salad to go with it.
