Sage

8

My laugh with Niall (and Jenny, once she got a hold of the story) was short-lived when nausea I was so sure I'd gotten over somehow had come full force, making me shoot back from the chair and trample over my legs with my hands slapped over my mouth, finally reaching onto the shop's asphalt.

Jenny was quick to follow me outside, repeatedly asking if I was okay and what she should get me to feel better. But deep down, I knew exactly what it was, which is why I brushed her aside and told her I was going home for the day.

Niall helped me grab my things and brought them out to my car, and he and Jenny wishes that I felt better before allowing me to make the short commute back to my apartment, where I threw up again, and again.

The next day, I sat on my bathroom floor, nearly dozing off on the toilet seat as the queasy feeling in my stomach threatened to have my insides emptied out again, but nothing came. In fact, I felt entirely fine. But I knew this to be a reoccurrence. I'd puke, can't at the toilet for thirty minutes, brush my teeth and go back to bed and immediately feel fine. And then it would start all over again.

I inhale a shaky breath before climbing on wobbly knees, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. My hair was untamed, frizzing, and knotting at the ends, and my entire body trembled though it was 75 degrees in the cozy apartment.

I wash my hands and make my way back into bed, checking the time on my nightstand to see that its 9 at night just as Jenny shoots me a text.

Jenny from the block: feeling any better?

Me: nope

Jenny from the block: jeez! did you eat something or do you think it's the STD

Me: no idea, i really have to get tested tmmr

I lie, and I want to bang my head against the wall because of how genuinely afraid I was of getting a pregnancy test done. With each day that passed by, I hopelessly checked to see if I'd stained my panty liner but just a little. For the first time, I wanted my period to come. Earlier yesterday morning, I had gotten it along with slight cramping, but after a few hours, it had all gone away as if it never happened.

My stomach churned heavily as I lie on my back with my hands at my sides, starting up at the dark ceiling as I thought over my options.

I could sit here and writhe in discomfort as my body vomits so much that my throat goes raw whilst racking my brain with anxiety. Or I could do all of that, but have a clear mind as opposed to whether I'm pregnant or not.

They were shitty options but I know it was all I had, which is why I found myself slowly rolling out of bed with a hand to my side. The second my stomach sways internally, I'm quickly rushing to the toilet once more.

Deciding to get it over with, I gargle mouthwash tiredly, my mouth sore from the acidic taste of vomit as I open the cabinet under the sink, sitting on my knees and pulling back the tissues, cleaning supplies, and extra body wash until I reach the little box that I know held two unused pregnancy tests.

I spare myself the critical nag in the back of my head who scolded me for knowing I had access to a pregnancy test along and take one of them out while standing to my feet.

I felt dizzy, and I didn't know if it was because of what I was about to do, or if I was genuinely becoming that sick. I had a feeling it wasn't the latter.

I read the instructions quickly, rushing my mind through it before I get second thoughts and peeing on the stick. My shaking hands allowed me to get more urine on my hand than anything so when I'm done, I pop the cap on and set it on the counter to wash my hands.