So yeah, this took super long to post but I didn't really have access to a computer until now... you know school and punishments got in the way... Anyhoo hope you like it!!
And Now She's in Me, Always with Me, Tiny Dancer in My Hand
It was a Tuesday when I had my first ultrasound. The unnamed receptionist took me into the small, dark room and told me to dress into a thin baby blue gown. I lay down on the table when I was dressed and waited for the elderly doctor. If it was up to me, I wouldn’t have gotten the ultrasound, but apparently the doctor is supposed to check out the baby every so often. I didn’t want to see what this thing inside of me looked like- I didn’t want to see it because I didn’t want to become attached. It’s a stupid reason, I know.
The doctor came in and told me to relax. What a joke. He opened the gown so my plump stomach was showing and I realized that I couldn’t see my feet. I silently counted the months on my fingers and realized I had been in Veneta’s Young Mother’s Shelter for six months, and nobody had come to visit me. I hadn’t seen my parents, Allison or Peter for six months. I wondered if they had ever though about me, if they ever wished I was at lunch with them or wished that I was in the same room as them- or had they forgotten about me.
The doctor squirted some cold blue gel onto my stomach, making me shiver. He mistook my shivers for nervousness and told me to relax. With a deep breath I watched him put the camera to my skin. I kept my eyes from gravitating towards the screen as I heard the machine whir to life. After the doctor moved the camera around my stomach for a minute or two, he started to chuckle.
“Here’s the little tyke,” he said, his voice barely a whisper with old age. “Would you like to see him?”
“No,” I blurted on impulse, but then I felt something move. Against my skin, I felt a slight pressure. My eyes opened wide.
“I think your baby’s on the move,” he chuckled. The pressure repeated in rapid succession. I couldn’t resist. I lifted my face and stared in awe at my blue covered stomach, placing my hand amongst the goop. My baby was kicking me, right at my hand.
“Hi Baby,” I breathed. I turned toward the screen in a rush of involuntary emotion. Between the two angled lines, there was a dark formation that looked like two ovals. The doctor pointed out my baby’s head and zoomed in. my child had the formation of a nose and two deep eye sockets. He/She looked like a sea monkey. My baby was beautiful. And just like that, I was attached.
In that moment, the thought of who the father was didn’t matter. The fact that I was raped didn’t worry me. I loved this baby, though it was there through bad reasons. He could make me happy again- She already has. That moment was the first time I loved this baby.
“Would you like a copy for the father?” the doctor shakily asked in a meek voice. And the love ended. I suddenly despised the thing in my stomach. Its stupid father put me here for just a minute of satisfaction. The kid in my stomach didn’t deserve to live. It wrecked my life I should have ended its when I found out I was pregnant. No, Isabelle, I yelled at myself, everything deserves a chance. But, what would it turn out like?
Would it be a blushing baby girl with my brown hair and ivory skin but his blue eyes. Would she turn out like me? Seventeen and pregnant? Or what if it was a boy? A tough little baby boy, with an iron grip that would play with Tonka trucks and tool box sets. Would he be as confused as his father? And then the million dollar question came.
“Miss Bailey,” the doctor called, “Do you want to know the sex of your baby?”
My impulse reaction was to say yes. I wanted to be able to shop for frilly pink dresses or rugged blue overalls. But would I be able to give it away after I knew who it was. What if I started to name it? Well I mean I should be able to name it right? It is my baby- the adoptive parents can change it. I wanted to know but I knew I shouldn’t.
“Yes,” I hesitantly said.
“It’s a girl,” he said.
“A girl?” I breathed in astonishment. I stared in wonder at the ultrasound monitor and watched as she moved against my stomach. She transformed infront of my eyes from a blue blob into a fair skinned baby with thin wispy hair and full lips. She would be beautiful- even if she had some Carl in her.
The doctor mumbled that I should get dressed in my normal clothes and then leave the office so the next girl could come in. I moved in a daze as I wiped the goop from my skin and put on my sweatpants and shirt. As I left the office, my cheeks began to hurt. I put my fingers to my face and realized I was smiling. This was the first time this baby had made me smile. She was my joy, my world, my curse, my problem. She was perfect.
Anya and Kristie were sitting on the couch in the Rec Room, just like when I left. I sat between them and looked at their faces. They looked surprised and confused, no, they looked like they thought I was crazy.
“What?” I asked.
“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you happy,” Anya said.
“I guess I’m just in a good mood, that’s all.”
“What happened?” Kristie asked.
“It’s a girl,” I smiled, happiness oozing out of my every pore. They congratulated me and asked me what her name was going to be. I told them I wasn’t sure. “Should I even name her, considering I’m giving her up?” I asked.
“Yeah, definitely,” Kristie immediately answered. “The new parents can change her name if they want.”
We sat the rest of the night on the couch discussing what names I should choose and giggling like three pre-teen girls. Little did I know that tomorrow my happiness would end.
The next day, Anya, Kristie and I were sitting in the same spots, watching a scary movie, when a woman behind us called my name.
“Isabelle, you have a visitor, should I send him in?”
“Um, yeah,” I said, hoping it would be Peter. I smoothed out my sweatpants and pulled down my tank top over my more pronounced stomach. I brushed my fingers thru my hair, silently thanking myself for putting up with the extra five minutes it took to make sure I looked fabulous, and focused on the television again.
I was holding Kristie’s hand during a scary part when my name was called again- this time, in an unexpected voice. I tightened my grip on Kristie’s hand.
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Thanks For Reading!
~Dommy
Wish I could be more help, but I really really really like this chapter!
But yes, everything has been amazing. You have quite an individual story-line here. Something special. What are your plans for it? I mean, publishing, perhaps?