“Change is Gonna Come”
7 a.m. starts suck ass. Or balls. Yeah, big hairy smelly balls, that is what 7 a.m. starts are like. Especially when you’re feeling sick. And that’s me this morning. I must be a sight to behold too. I dare not look in the mirror because I know I look just as bad—if not worse—than I feel.
My head is throbbing, my stomach feels like it has been turned inside out, and the smell of anything is making me dry retch. It’s been getting steadily worse over the past few days, and I’ve been burying my head in the sand and fighting against the nagging thoughts in my head. Because what it could be is just not possible. Not a chance in hell.
I’m on my second bottle of water for the day already, and all it’s doing is making me pee constantly. All I do lately is sleep and pee and work. Occasionally, I’ll eat, but only if I absolutely have to, and when the smell of the food I’m shoving in my mouth doesn’t make me gag, but I’m pretty much a sick shell of the normal Mac. Kate’s worried and she suggested I get checked out today during my shift, but I hit the ground running as soon as I arrived and haven’t had a chance to sit down, let alone see a doctor.
After finally catching a break, I spend a spare few minutes catching up on my patient charts at the nurse’s station. The next time I look up, I’m met by a grinning Noah staring down at me.
“Hey, stranger,” he says cheerfully before his expression morphs into a frown. “Shit, you look like hell. Why are you still working?”
“Hi to you too,” I reply snarkily before sighing. I rest my hand under my chin to stop my head crashing down onto the desk in front of me. “I’m okay. Just tired and nauseous. I’ll be right after a few days off from this place.”
“How’s Daniel? I haven’t heard from him in over a month. He’s not answering calls or texts or anything. Keeping my boy busy I take it?”
Damn. He hasn’t told Noah that we broke up.
“Ah yeah, something like that,” I say.
“Everything’s okay with you two, right? Seriously, Mac, I wouldn’t have believed it unless I’d seen it with my own eyes, but he’s happy, and it’s all because of you. I never thought it would happen for either of you.”
God, that hurts. Will I ever be ready to face the giant hole in my heart where Daniel Winters used to be? Where he should still be. Scratch that, where he’s always going to fucking be.
“Don’t worry, WD. We’re all good.”
“Shit, we’re back to the WD thing, are we?” he says, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand just like Daniel does. Dammit, why can’t I stop thinking about the man? Day and night, everything reminds me of him. It’s like water torture to my heart.
“You’ll always be WD to me, Taylor” I add with a wink.
He chuckles. “Yeah, well I think we had a good run of it. But there was always going to be a time when it didn’t suit one of us anymore.”
“Yeah.”
“What about the others?” he asks inquisitively.
“There are no others, not anymore. There haven’t been since I met Superman, I mean, Daniel.” Damn slip of the tongue.
“Mac?” Noah’s voice cuts through my drifting thoughts, bringing me back to the now. “It’s good to see you settling down. And I’m glad you’re with someone like Winters. He’ll treat you right. You know that, don’t you?”
Who would have thought The Walking Dildo could be such a romantic?
I look up and I’m struck by the sincerity I see shining back at me. “Yeah, I do.”
“Good. Well, I better get back. I’m due in the OR in twenty minutes.”
Then it hits me. Like a giant wrecking ball to the gut.
“Shit!” I jump up, covering my mouth with my hand as I race past Noah and straight towards the nearest trash can I can find, emptying the entire contents of my stomach in the middle of the ICU.
“Mac, are you okay?” he asks, rushing to my side and grabbing my hair while I continue to dry retch. “I think you need to go home, hon.” He reaches around and feels my forehead. “No fever. Have you been feeling off for a while?”
“Probably the last week. I’ve just been really tired, and feeling shitty when I eat. The smell of anything seems to put me off food completely.” The man has the audacity to laugh at my illness.
“What? Why the hell are you laughing? Does this look funny?” I say, pointing towards the vomit filled trash can.
“Mac, I think you need to go to obstetrics and have a test.”
I gasp. What the hell? “Noah, there’s no way I’m pregnant. I have an IUD, remember? Besides, I haven’t had sex in—”
“What?”
Oh, good one loud mouth McGee. Let the cat out of the bag why don’t you? “Ah, nothing. I’ll be fine. Thanks for helping, but I’ll go clean up and head home.”
“Mac” he growls. “You can’t ignore this. Go get tested. I’ll even take you up myself.”
“Noah I’m-”
“No. Don’t fight me on this. Go get tested, then I can breathe easy knowing that it’s nothing other than morning sickness. I can’t wait to give Dan a ribbing for getting one past the goalie. “
“No, you can’t!” I shout, a bit louder than planned.
“What? He’ll be over the moon, Mac. He’s always wanted kids. And the way he looks at you, I can tell he’s already imagined having them with you. It’s written all over his face,” he explains.
“I’ll go get tested, just to shut you up. But you can’t say anything to Daniel. Not yet, okay? I’ll wait to see if there is anything to tell him first. You have to promise me, Noah.” I’m pleading now. This whole situation has turned into a shit fight of epic proportions.
“Okay, but you let me know what they say because I’ll bet my ass you’re pregnant, and with a Winters’ child no less. The damn baby will be in Bears’ gear before it’s even born.” He chuckles before leaning over and kissing my temple. “Get checked and page me. I’ll only be in the OR for a couple of hours, so I’ll see you afterwards, okay?” He quirks his brow. Noah is like a dog with a bone on this, and I know he won’t give up until I agree.
“Yes, I’ll page you. Now go. Be a doctor. Save a life and all that.” I shoo him away and walk towards the ladies’ room to clean myself up.
Two hours later I’m planted on the couch at home, staring at the blank television screen, still in a state of shock.
Pregnant. Again. Four and a half years after the guilt of losing my first baby consumed me, I’m facing the same predicament again.
I’m knocked up, alone, and scared shitless.
The difference this time is that there is no way I’m not having this baby. Daniel isn’t Beau. He is as far from my ex as anyone can be. Picture Mother Theresa and the Devil, that’s the wide expanse between the two men.
I also know that whatever happens—or doesn’t happen—between the two of us, Daniel will always be there for his child.
But I can’t tell him. Not yet.
He’ll want me back, but it will just be for the baby, and we both deserve more than that. Having paged Noah as promised after my appointment, we found a spare on call room, and he held me while I cried my eyes out. I didn’t tell him Daniel and I weren’t together anymore. I just told him I was in shock. Who would’ve guessed that I would be in the 1% of people who get pregnant with an IUD. Not me!
After peeing on the stick, the lines came up pretty much straight away, confirming that I was very pregnant. Then the clinic nurse came in and drew some blood before the doctor instructed me to change into a gown and lay down on the bed. I put my feet into the stirrups on the bed and then she gave me an ultrasound to check on the position of my IUD to determine whether it was safe to remove it. When she located the IUD and the amniotic sac containing my baby, she safely removed the offending contraception device and instructed me to get dressed again. Once she’d given me instructions to get some prenatal vitamins and enough information pamphlets to inform a third world country, we made an appointment for a scan at the end of my first trimester.
Me, Makenna Lewis. Age 24. From Chicago, Illinois. Pregnant. Again.
I left work after my appointment, somehow making it home before setting myself down on the couch and staring at the blank television, where I’ve been sitting for the past twenty minutes as I reevaluate the current state of my life.
This was the last thing I expected to happen. But when life gives you lemons, mix with tequila and salt and have a fucking good time? Well, since I can’t partake in my friend Jose for the next nine months, I might as well make lemonade.
Then there’s Daniel. a.k.a. my superhero baby daddy. How am I supposed to tell him? I don’t want him to take me back because of some obligation to his child. It would always be at the back of my mind. I’d always wonder.
People successfully raise children apart all the time these days. It can be done, but I want him back. Every step I’ve taken in the past three weeks has been toward getting myself ready to be with him, becoming the woman he deserves me to be and not a scared hollow shell of a woman who holds men at length to protect herself.
I know what I have to do. I grab the phone and dial the number that I long ago committed to memory. It rings a few times in my ear before it’s picked up. My heart beats out of my chest because this is like history repeating itself.
“Mom, I’m coming home.”