Waiting For Us [COMPLETED]

bonus chapter 2 - our daughter pt. 1

Talia:

I'm pregnant. Or, as Jessica just informed me, I'm preggers. I think I might stick to telling people I'm pregnant.

I'm standing in Grayson and I's apartment bathroom, currently overthinking everything pregnancy will have in store for me. As learned fifteen minutes ago from my positive pregnancy test, there is something growing inside of me. Soon, it will multiply in size, until months later, it will force itself out of my vagina. It sounds like fun.

For the past week, I have not seen the appearance of my period, which as noted by my calendar, should have started nine days ago. On one of those days, I threw up in the bathroom before leaving for my apprenticeship. Grayson was already at his morning basketball practice, and because of my belief that I shouldn't bother him at his job, I kept my health to myself. I don't think I'll be able to keep this change in my health a secret, however.

Oh, my God, I'm going to be huge. I'll have a whole stomach that will look like a beach ball and will get people to look twice at me. I'll have to be helped up from my seat. I'll have swollen ankles and feet. I'll have to pee every two hours!

This is something. This is really something.

We honestly predicted this would occur ever since we agreed to reverse his vasectomy. Six months ago, shortly after we were married, we reviewed our positions in our lives like responsible adults and made a decision: we were ready for the possibility of kids, but didn't want to have any pressure to make one. So, acting on that realization, we have lived life care free. But now we're here—

Twenty-three-years old and pregnant.

My dad is going to kill me! He's going to kill Grayson! I'll be a single mother!

Wow, this situation is getting worse and worse.

But it's all in my head. Right? Surely if my dad kills Grayson because we were told to wait until we were thirty there would be some severe consequences. Like jail. Or something, I don't know. I haven't really planned that yet. One thing is for certain, and that is I will protect Grayson from my father's possible wrath.

It's better to live in the moment, I've learned. Which is why I'm internally screaming as I pull some chicken out of the fridge for dinner.

About an hour ago, Grayson should have finished his basketball game, meaning he should be home soon. I had a client today with my job mentor at the tattoo shop, so I unfortunately couldn't be there to support him. I tuned in through the TV for the early coverage of the game. Now I'm home early, after having picked up a pregancy test on the way home, finding out I'm preggers, freaking out, and deciding to make dinner for my husband while deciding how I should tell him.

I decide on making pesto chicken and pasta, because why not? It's easy to cook while taking enough time to distract myself from the growing thing in my stomach. I'm in the middle of chucking the dry pasta in the boiling water when the apartment door creeks open.