Finally

Part 11: Whoops

"Dammit..."

And there it is.

I can feel it.

Dripping right down my cunt and onto the couch.

I push my face into the couch cushion and sigh heavily to myself.

Granted- the likelihood of me becoming pregnant is 1 in 1,000,000: because my uterus and my female organs hate me. I couldn't even get pregnant with IVF and that's with the egg already being fertilized and then being implanted into the lining of my uterus.

My body is toxic apparently and wants to be an old maid.

But the fact that he's back there- somewhere across the room freaking out....

That is enough to make me feel like shit that if it did happen.

If I ended up pregnant.

That he would freak out and not want the baby, move to Mexico and start going by the name Maximo Sanchez.

Finally getting up, I stand up and turn to find him covering his mouth in an angry grip and his eyes closed as he breathes heavily.

This is where he panics and says:

Do you want me to buy you the pill? I'll run right out now and buy whatever you need. Here take fifteen Aftera, 20 Plan B, and down this bottle of bleach just for good measure. And call me in the morning if you think it didn't work.

You would think he would be understanding if it did happen- for him it may be a death sentence, but for me, it would be a welcomed miracle.

A baby's all I've ever wanted.

Now I'm not saying that we need to start trying or anything.

I've kind of given up that dream based on facts and reality, but still, he could be sympathetic towards my failed dreams.

He knows what a child means to me.

And what I wouldn't give to have one of my own.

He knows that.

And he's being so insensitive about it.

"Don't worry about." I plainly say and make my way to the bathroom. Off the kitchen. Going in, I shut the door and just stare at myself in the mirror for a few minutes.

A few tears spring into my eyes.

Why though?

Haven't I cried enough?

Over not being able to have a baby.

Over Max.

Over silly little inconveniences.

Over just being alone.

I have always been so strong and confident and closed off.

Why all of a sudden am I crying all the time?

No.

No.

No.

No.

Tell me I'm not....

Not starting menopause early....

I'm only 37!!

I swear to all that is holy!

I can't! I can't be menopausal!

"Helen? You okay?"

No, Max.

Not in the least.

Not only have you made it abundantly clear right now that you wouldn't even possibly consider having a family of our own some day—