Me
Will do. Good luck, you both will kill it.
ESA is on its two-week summer break, and I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t wait to get back to work.
I miss the joy of teaching them and being surrounded by the sport I love all day. Especially since I can’t train like I was before I found out I was pregnant. It’s far too risky to be twisting, jumping, and flipping my body around when I’m carrying precious cargo.
The last month has been surprisingly good. Finding out I was pregnant was quite the shock, and I was stressed about what happens next.
While I am stillslightlystressed–because what expecting mom wouldn’t be–I got into a good routine and the support from my friends, my brother, and Quentin has been helpful.
I spend my days working, followed by a workout at the gym, and then I come home to eat, shower, and relax with reality TV every night while I scroll and research all things baby.
So far, I’ve made a list of nursery items I need, have purchased a few, and bought some pregnancy books to read.
My friends text me when they can, and we even video chat if possible. I’m proud of my girls for chasing their dreams, even if it means we go months without seeing each other.
And my brother has been calling to check in, and sometimes will bring dinner over and hang out with me for a bit.
Every time, he bothers me about who the father is, and every time, I tell him he’ll know when I want to tell him.
It’s frustrating to deal with his incessant pestering, but I know that for right now, it’s best not to tell him until I can figure out the right time to do it.
Which brings me to Quentin.
I haven’t seen him since my last appointment, as he’s been on the road quite a bit and I’ve been busy too. It isn’t in our pact to see one another, so it’s not odd that we haven’t.
We do keep in contact daily, as he always checks in to see how I’m feeling or if I’ve eaten. Sometimes we chat for a bit, just catching each other up on our day-to-day lives. I would say Quentin and I are friends now, which is exactly what we need to be for Blueberry.
I’ve even started watching games when I know he’s pitching, and he’s better than I ever expected.
Of course I saw his accolades on Google, but witnessing it on the screen for myself is another thing entirely. He’s confident, precise, and a team player. Every time they go off to switch from playing the field to batting, he makes sure to pat every player on the back as they head to the dugout.
Whereas when Ian pitches, he beelines from the pitching mound to the dugout.
The two couldn’t be more opposite.
I groan at the thought, knowing that telling Ian is going to be a pain in my ass when he finds out who the father is.
On top of that, I think I caught a stomach bug from one of my students who was sick right before the break started.
I’ve been on my couch all day. I’m nauseous and throwing up, my body feeling achy and cold.
I’m about to text Ian to see if he can come over here, when my phone buzzes on my coffee table.
Stretching my arm out, I pick it up to see a text from Quentin.
Quentin
How are you feeling today?
I debate on lying to him, but I know in order to keep things going as good as they are between us, I need to be honest.
Me
I think I’m sick.
Not a minute later, he’s calling me.
