Though I’m not, I nod my head. I’m not okay. I’m unraveling. And the worst part is, I don’t know if I want to be stitched back together. What would that even look like? Who would I be without the grief?
The nurse calls my name, and we head to the back. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, each step toward the exam room heavier than the last.
When we get inside, the doctor, a woman with short brown hair and glasses, smiles kindly at me. “We’re going to get through this, okay?” she says gently, guiding me to the exam table.
I nod, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.
“You’re here because we’re concerned about your mood, correct?” she asks, settling across from me.
I nod again, not trusting my voice. The silence stretches, thick and suffocating.
“Before we talk about medication,” she continues, “I need to ask you a few questions. Were you and Cole…were you intimate?”
My cheeks flush with heat, and I nod quickly. “Yes. We were always careful, and my period’s about to start.” I add, my voice barely above a whisper.
The doctor gives a small nod, like she’s considering something. “Just to rule out a pregnancy, we’ll run a quick test. We want to make sure it’s not affecting your mood, and if it is, we can address it properly.”
I’m stunned for a moment, but then I agree. It’s just a test. It’ll come back negative, right?
They hand me a stick to pee on, and I go through the motions. I’m used to tests—after all, they’ve been a part of my life for so long now. But this time is different. This time, it’s like my entire world hinges on the results.
When I hand the test back to the doctor, she looks up at me, her expression soft. “Sweetheart, it’s positive.”
I feel the world tilt, the ground beneath me spinning. I can’t breathe. My hands shake. It feels like everything just stopped.
“Do you want your mom in here with you?” the doctor asks, her voice gentle.
I nod, though I’m not sure what I want anymore.
When my mom comes back in, the doctor calmly tells her the news, and my mom’s face crumbles. She cries, and I can’t do anything but stare at her, numb, unable to process what’s happening.
She pulls me into her arms, and I don’t know what to feel. My heart swells with love, but it also feels like it’s being ripped apart.
On the car ride home, my mom is quiet, her hand resting gently on my knee. “Whatever you decide to do, Kenna, we’re here for you,” she says, her voice soft, but I can hear the worry behind her words. “You’re not alone in this.”
I can’t help myself. “What should I do, Mom?” I whisper. “I don’t know what’s right.”
She looks at me, her eyes searching mine. “It’s not for me to decide, honey. You need to do what feels right for you. Don’t let anyone else’s expectations make that decision for you.”
I nod, feeling tears burn behind my eyes. “But Mom…I feel like this baby is something special. Like it’s something I need.”
My mom’s voice is gentle, but steady. “You’re right. It’s an extra responsibility, but if you choose to keep the baby, it will be your new purpose. You’ll find a way. And I’ll be here every step of the way.”
That night, I lie in bed, my hand resting gently on my belly. I think about the baby growing inside me. Half Cole, half me, and I cry again. But this time, it’s different. It’s not just sadness. There’s hope now. There’s a chance for something new, something that will remind me of him in the best way possible.
I whisper to the dark, “You’re not here, Cole. But a part of you is. And I won’t let that part disappear.”
I know what I have to do. I’m keeping the baby.
The next morning, I wake up, and the smell of breakfast drifts in from the kitchen. My mom’s cooking, and my brothers, Reuben and Asher, are sitting at the table. I sit down next to Reuben, and he wraps his arm around me, pulling me close.
“You look better today,” he says softly, his voice full of warmth.
“I am better today,” I tell him, finally feeling like I might just be okay.
My mom looks at me, and I give her a small nod. It’s time. It’s time to share the news.
She calls a family meeting, and everyone gathers around the table. She starts by talking about how difficult this past month has been for me and how we all need to be there for each other. Reuben pulls me closer, and I lean into him.
