are going to be just fine.”
“Thank you,” I say and try to smile as the nurse hands me tissues to clean up my face.
“I’ll write up a prescription for prenatal vitamins and a print out of what you can and can’t do now that you have precious cargo in your tummy. Some important things to remember though, are no drinking, no smoking and no drugs, and remember, Erin, you can always call me even if you think what you are concerned about is nothing.”
After I agree to follow his instructions, both of them leave me to change, but I am held captive by the pictures in my hand. My hormones take control, creating more tears that I can’t manage to stem, and they free fall down my cheeks. Grabbing more tissues to wipe them away is pointless. They won’t stop.
This thing, this little person inside me, is going to change my world and nothing will ever be the same again. Light breaks through the last few weeks of darkness. Night has now turned to day. My previously hazy visions are crystal clear. I, Erin Decker, am going to have a baby. I’m going to be a single parent and for the first time since I found out, that thought doesn’t scare the crap out of me. This child will have more love and affection than any other child in existence. I am strong. My support system is steady and willing to stand by me.
Pushing past the glass doors out into the hot July sun I dig into my purse and pull out my phone finding that I have a missed call and a text from Noelle.
Noe: FREEDOM! Lunch after your appt?
Me: Portillo’s at 12:15?
Noe: See you then, slutbag.
In the past week or so my appetite has returned and made me into a nonstop eating machine. The doctor said twenty five to thirty pounds was okay to gain and as of right now I am still at one hundred thirty, thankfully. My mouth waters as I think of the amazing burger and French fries waiting for me. Portillo’s is a staple in Chicago. It houses the juiciest burgers and Chicago style hot dogs you can imagine. The shakes are sinful and have you moaning from the first sip. So. Freaking. Amazing!
Noelle beats me there and already has a table for us. Lunchtime is insanely busy and they put their restaurant style food out quicker than a fast food place. To see she has already secured a spot amazes me. There have been plenty of times we’ve had to stand while scarfing down our food but it’s so worth it.
The drop of my purse on the table barely makes a sound over the noisy patrons but it gets her attention. “Can you stop referring to me as a slutbag? I’ve only slept with two guys in my entire life, which is like 1/20 th of the amount you have.”
Her blue eyes lift from her smart phone, while her fingers still type out whatever message she is sending, and look up at me. “So, you are saying I slept with forty-ish guys?” She asks.
“Uhm, give or take.”
“I’m insulted!” She stands up quickly motioning to her svelte body covered in a sophisticated light blue dress shirt and white pencil skirt that brings out her 20s pinup figure. Her hair is pulled back into a low bun and her makeup enhances her high cheekbones. “This hot body has had way more than forty men beg for it! At least sixty.”
Hysterical laughing erupts from me as one of the three businessmen at the table adjacent to us spits his drink out all over the food in front of him. “Now, who is the slutbag?” I laugh.
“Let’s go get our food before one of them starts getting on his knees worshipping me.”
The lines are long, but in no time Noelle and I are back at the table, spitting men long gone. She asks me about my appointment and I tell her about all the tests, questions, my due date and that I am almost seven weeks along. The entire room goes silent when I pull out the pictures and she screams out, telling anyone in earshot, she is going to be an aunt.
“How are you feeling about all of this, Erin?” She asks as we throw away our trash and exit through the revolving doors.
Stopping just
“Thank you,” I say and try to smile as the nurse hands me tissues to clean up my face.
“I’ll write up a prescription for prenatal vitamins and a print out of what you can and can’t do now that you have precious cargo in your tummy. Some important things to remember though, are no drinking, no smoking and no drugs, and remember, Erin, you can always call me even if you think what you are concerned about is nothing.”
After I agree to follow his instructions, both of them leave me to change, but I am held captive by the pictures in my hand. My hormones take control, creating more tears that I can’t manage to stem, and they free fall down my cheeks. Grabbing more tissues to wipe them away is pointless. They won’t stop.
This thing, this little person inside me, is going to change my world and nothing will ever be the same again. Light breaks through the last few weeks of darkness. Night has now turned to day. My previously hazy visions are crystal clear. I, Erin Decker, am going to have a baby. I’m going to be a single parent and for the first time since I found out, that thought doesn’t scare the crap out of me. This child will have more love and affection than any other child in existence. I am strong. My support system is steady and willing to stand by me.
Pushing past the glass doors out into the hot July sun I dig into my purse and pull out my phone finding that I have a missed call and a text from Noelle.
Noe: FREEDOM! Lunch after your appt?
Me: Portillo’s at 12:15?
Noe: See you then, slutbag.
In the past week or so my appetite has returned and made me into a nonstop eating machine. The doctor said twenty five to thirty pounds was okay to gain and as of right now I am still at one hundred thirty, thankfully. My mouth waters as I think of the amazing burger and French fries waiting for me. Portillo’s is a staple in Chicago. It houses the juiciest burgers and Chicago style hot dogs you can imagine. The shakes are sinful and have you moaning from the first sip. So. Freaking. Amazing!
Noelle beats me there and already has a table for us. Lunchtime is insanely busy and they put their restaurant style food out quicker than a fast food place. To see she has already secured a spot amazes me. There have been plenty of times we’ve had to stand while scarfing down our food but it’s so worth it.
The drop of my purse on the table barely makes a sound over the noisy patrons but it gets her attention. “Can you stop referring to me as a slutbag? I’ve only slept with two guys in my entire life, which is like 1/20 th of the amount you have.”
Her blue eyes lift from her smart phone, while her fingers still type out whatever message she is sending, and look up at me. “So, you are saying I slept with forty-ish guys?” She asks.
“Uhm, give or take.”
“I’m insulted!” She stands up quickly motioning to her svelte body covered in a sophisticated light blue dress shirt and white pencil skirt that brings out her 20s pinup figure. Her hair is pulled back into a low bun and her makeup enhances her high cheekbones. “This hot body has had way more than forty men beg for it! At least sixty.”
Hysterical laughing erupts from me as one of the three businessmen at the table adjacent to us spits his drink out all over the food in front of him. “Now, who is the slutbag?” I laugh.
“Let’s go get our food before one of them starts getting on his knees worshipping me.”
The lines are long, but in no time Noelle and I are back at the table, spitting men long gone. She asks me about my appointment and I tell her about all the tests, questions, my due date and that I am almost seven weeks along. The entire room goes silent when I pull out the pictures and she screams out, telling anyone in earshot, she is going to be an aunt.
“How are you feeling about all of this, Erin?” She asks as we throw away our trash and exit through the revolving doors.
Stopping just
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