Read Online Positively Mine by Christine Duval - Free Book Online

schoolwork, which is a good thing.
    Mike and I have hardly seen each other: we had breakfast once in the cafeteria last week; he walked me to a class the other day; there’ve been a couple phone calls and texts. It’s fine because I don’t want to talk about what is going on, and since that’s all that’s on my mind, I have nothing to say.
    Plus, he’s feeling the pressure. As fun as he can be, he’s also super competitive, like most people at this school. He didn’t do well on his econ test, and it was bad. He only passed because the professor curved it. He’s used to getting As and is here on an academic scholarship that he can’t afford to lose. So he’s taking things more seriously these days. I’m glad because I don’t have to keep coming up with excuses why I don’t want to see him.
    I called every doctor on Karen’s list that was associated with Rochester Hospital and found an obstetrician nearby who doesn’t charge too much for a prenatal visit. It seems like a good choice because it’s far enough away that I don’t have to worry I’ll run into anyone when I go but not as far as the one-hour trek to downtown Rochester.
    The receptionist said I’ll need to see him once a month initially and later in the pregnancy the visits will become more frequent. The cost for an office visit is $125. I should be able to cover my appointments until I figure out a way to tell my father.
    I blow off Legal Ethics for my first OB appointment because the doctor has a 10:45 opening. I’ve already missed three classes, which is the maximum you’re supposed to be allowed in a semester, but Prof. Thompson is so old, I don’t think he’s noticed. He rarely takes attendance, and based on how he writes on the chalkboard – literally putting whole sentences on top of one another – it seems like his eyesight is going too.
    Regardless, Monday is the last day that I can drop the course without his written permission, and I am seriously considering it now because I’m about 300 pages behind in the reading.
    The receptionist has me fill out half an hour’s worth of paperwork although I leave the insurance information blank. When I hand it back to her, I lie. “I don’t have insurance. I’m going to pay out of pocket.”
    She takes the clipboard from me with raised eyebrows. “That could get expensive.”
    “I have enough to cover the visits.” I take out the envelope with $500 in it that I still have from two weeks ago and count out $125.
    She looks surprised at the cash, as if she’s never seen it before, and I suddenly feel like the mob boss’s daughter.
    “Do you need a receipt?” she finally asks.
    I’m tempted to tell her I don’t want to leave a paper trail.
    She handwrites one in perfect cursive on a yellow piece of stationary with the doctor’s name on top. “You can take a seat, and Dr. Adler will be with you soon.”
    My stomach feels like there is a brick stuck in it. I try to suppress the feeling and pick up a magazine called
Pregnancy Today
. Articles about dressing in style while pregnant, celebrity pregnancies, eating for two, prenatal yoga and setting up a savings plan for a child fill the pages between ads for baby formula, maternity bras and diapers. Towards the back of the magazine is an interview with a woman in her twenties who is juggling going back to college with having a baby.
    She tells the interviewer, “Pregnancy is the best time to be in college. The flexible schedule affords ease with making doctor appointments and taking prenatal classes. The key is to not overdo it. After the baby is here, I’ll continue with my studies and be that much more ahead because I didn’t wait.”
    Okay then…
    “Laurel,” a nurse calls from the doorway, “we’re ready for you.”
    The nurse takes a urine sample, my blood pressure, pulse and weighs me. I’ve gained five pounds already. I wince.
    Next, she calculates my due date. “That puts baby’s projected arrival at May 4 th .”
    “May