Three weeks later when her doctor confirmed her pregnancy, Sybil still tried to wrap her mind around it. Life had changed forever. Even if she gave up the child, she’d always wonder how he or she was. And if she kept the baby?Whew.She collapsed on the bed. Raising a child on her own overwhelmed her too much to think about.
She dreaded her appointment tomorrow. Her blood pressure had been high for the first time in her life at her initial checkup. Subsequently, she had to go in weekly for monitoring. At this rate, she’d run out of sick days by the third trimester and have to use her personal days and vacation time for all her appointments.
Her phone vibrated, and she checked the text message then frowned. Liz backed out of going with her tomorrow because she “had better things to do.” Go figure.Why did I even bother asking her? Her so-called best friend had avoided her since the birthday celebration that Sybil had to leave. Was Liz mad about that or weirded out by the pregnancy? Who knew with her.
At least the morning sickness didn’t bother her much anymore. She’d lost five pounds in two weeks, but after that, she’d felt much better. The biggest issue she faced now was a smell aversion to random scents. She never knew what would set it off, but the nausea rarely turned into vomiting now, for which she was grateful.
Reluctantly, she left the sanctuary of her bedroom and went to find food to eat for dinner. Her phone vibrated again. Though tempted to ignore it, lest it was Liz with another snarky reply, she snuck a glance at the screen, relieved to see the message came from Rysa.
—Any plans for tonight?
A hot bath and a big bowl of ice cream. She rolled her eyes at herself then sent a reply. —Not really. Why?
—The new Greek place opened this week, and I hear they have a killer souvlaki. Want to go?
Did she want to? Not really, but Rysa was the only friend from the group that hadn’t treated her differently since she’d told them about the pregnancy. She didn’t want to risk alienating her. Maybe she could compromise?
—Do they offer carry-out?
—I think so. If you’re too tired to go, I don’t mind bringing it to you.
Sybil burst into tears. Hormones had already turned her into an emotional wreck at times, and Rysa wouldn’t understand how much her kindness meant. —That would be great. I’ll pay you back when you get here.
—No worries. See you in an hour-ish.
A smile stretched Sybil’s lips, something that hadn’t happened too often lately. She went to her room and changed into a comfortable pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt, then pulled her hair into a messy bun. She slipped her feet into a pair of bunny slippers Jayla had given her as a gag gift for Christmas last year, but the joke was on Jayla. Turned out, the slippers felt like heaven, even if they looked ridiculous. But unlike with the rest of her friends, Sybil didn’t have to be her best at all times around Rysa, who didn’t care what she wore or how she dressed or if a hair was out of place.
The freedom of imperfection made spending time with Rysa more enjoyable than with her other friends. The last several weeks had opened Sybil’s eyes to their true personalities and caused hours of introspection about her choice of friends. She rubbed her stomach.Maybe I’m growing up a little right along with you, huh, baby?
She went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face to liven her body, then used a dab of makeup remover to clear the smudged mascara from under her eyes. She clucked her tongue when she looked at her reflection. Not perfect by any means, but presentable.
Her house was a mess, a result of her increased tiredness. She performed a quick run-through, gathering empty cups to put in the sink, then collecting miscellaneous papers and pieces of mail and stacking them in a pile to sort through later. She closed the blinds and curtains to keep the sun from peeking in and shining a light on the layers of dust on her furniture.
This weekend, she’d get her house in order once and for all. With the sickness gone and no work on Saturdays and Sundays, surely, she’d be able to muster the energy to catch up on the housework and her laundry. One more day wouldn’t matter.
Sitting in her recliner, taking a break until Rysa showed up, she flipped through a book about what to expect while pregnant. She’d picked it up from the used bookstore after the second doctor’s appointment when she’d started to come out of denial. Last night was the first time she’d read beyond the back cover.
She read three pages before setting the book aside and pressing a palm to her stomach. “Don’t worry, baby. I can’t keep you, but I’ll do everything in my power to bring you into this world safely.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. Love for this tiny fetus, no bigger than a peach at this stage, overcame her, but she didn’t know what to do with it. She’d never experienced a love like it. Had she ever experienced love at all?
For all she’d done wrong in life, she vowed to get this right. Her baby would be born and handed over in love to a family who knew how to love.
As she stood to get a tissue from the bathroom, the doorbell rang.
“It’s me,” she heard Rysa call from outside.
Sybil used her shirt as a substitute tissue and wiped her eyes as she walked to the door. “Coming.”
When she opened the door, Rysa held up a brown paper bag. “If it tastes as good as it smells, they deserve every glowing review on Yelp they’ve gotten.”
“It does smell great. Thank you.” Emotion got the better of her, and unbidden tears sprung again.
“Uh oh.” Rysa entered the house and pressed a hand to Sybil’s back, guiding her to the table, and then set down the bag. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s silly.”
“If it’s making you cry, it’s not silly.” Rysa pulled a napkin from the bag and handed it to her.
