A Patient Story – Part 1

I’m sitting in the bathroom. It’s still early, the kids aren’t up and I’m sitting here shaking with anxiety. I wait for my husband to leave so I can take the test. I couldn’t look at his face when he left. If this test is positive, it can’t be positive, I can’t be pregnant. I can’t tell him it might not be his.

My phone timer rings with a loud beep and I nearly fall off the edge of the tub. It’s the moment of truth. I stretch my neck over towards the sink and peek at the test. The anxiety deepens. My heart stops for what feels like an hour. Two lines. Two blue lines. I can’t believe this happened to me.

It’s now a few sleepless days later and I know my time is running out. I can’t keep the….. I can’t be pregnant. I was out with my friends after work one night. I might have had one too many drinks, but I wasn’t out of control. That’s when I ran into Mike. It didn’t start out to be anything. It just happened. Oh no. This is making it worse. That’s it, I must go take care of this before I start showing. Before my husband finds out… before anyone finds out. Tonight. I’ll make the phone call tonight.

I google Planned Parenthood and call the first number that comes up. “Good afternoon, TCLC this is Sally. How can I help you?” the voice on the phone answered. “Hi, I’d like to schedule an… appointment,” I squeeze out. I wasn’t nervous before, but now that I’m on the phone—this is real. “Sure, what type of an appointment were you wanting to make?” She sounds friendly, but it doesn’t help. “I need to stop a pregnancy.” I got it out. I guess it wasn’t that bad. “Have you had your pregnancy confirmed?” She said a little concerned, but I thought that was weird. What does it matter to them? “I took a home pregnancy test. I’m pretty sure.” I’m done now. Just let me make my appointment! “Okay. If you make an appointment we will confirm with another pregnancy test, and if it’s positive then we will do an ultrasound as well as STD testing. Can you do tomorrow at noon?” I make the appointment. A spark of hope has started to trickle in. Maybe I’m not pregnant. Maybe I’ll miscarry and that will fix everything!

It’s the next day and I arrive for my appointment. It’s a nice place. I’ve never been to Planned Parenthood before, but it looks just like any other doctor’s office. But as I filled out the paperwork I noticed I was at TCLC. I was still getting what I needed, so I stay. The anxiety is still there. That night flashes in my head. It was stupid. I’m stupid. I can’t believe I let this happen. I need to fix this. Now I’m sitting in a room with Michelle (they called her an advocate), and the nurse, Sue, walks in. “Well your test is positive, so please come with me across the hall and we can discuss our other services.” Wham. My heart sinks. It’s really true. I can only nod my head. Hopefully the ultrasound will give me better news. A few minutes later I’m on the table and my gaze is locked on to the black and white monitor on the wall. She moves around the probe on my stomach and then stops in the middle. “And there is your pregnancy,” she said making random clicks on the machine. She was right. I couldn’t escape it now. She prints me a few pictures and I bury them in my purse.

Later that night as I’m picking up the kids toys in the living room my husband walks in from the bedroom with the ultrasound pictures in his hand. Oh no. I slump into the couch. “Honey! You’re pregnant! That’s great! When are you due?” My chest feels like an elephant just sat on me. My lips are cracking. My throat is dry. What am I supposed to say? How do I fix this?