SoC #101 An Unwanted Pregnancy

The difference between a miracle and a nightmare is, in this case, timing. 

people have sex in university. it's a fact. hook-up culture is real. i've had sex myself. of course. lots of sex, as you'll see. people have careless sex as well. not me, actually. i'm usually quite careful- i use condoms. always. not always, actually. usually. anyhow, people have sex, and careless sex. and what happens when people have sex? especially careless sex? people get pregnant.

so why then is it such a shock to people? why then is there such a stigma around pregnancy? aside from personal and religious reasons- let's say people are totally okay with it- there is still some awkward stigma around it. nobody talks about it. the process of an unwanted pregnancy is deeply personal. and nobody discussing it makes it feel all the worse.

you don't want anyone to know, yet you want to tell everyone.

and because of this stigma, you feel like you can't talk about it. you feel like damaged goods. you feel like you've been careless or somehow you've done something wrong.

but you didn't. you had sex, a very normal part of life if you choose it to be, and your condom broke. you shouldn't have gotten pregnant. the odds were against that. it was one time, and there was a condom, after all. yet you are pregnant. and you feel like you've wronged. but. you. have. not.

so anyway it's happened. you peed on a stick a few days after you should have gotten your period because a part of you kind of knew you were pregnant. both times you saw that cross that means positive. thinking you were infertile in the first place, you felt a surge of relief and happiness followed by numbing dread.

and you told one of your best friends. and she freaked out, because this is her worst nightmare, and it's supposed to be your worst nightmare. so she ran to the convenient store to double check. you already knew, but you humoured her, and you peed again.

same blue cross.

and you are pregnant.

and so other friends come over and you pretend you're not. but you can't really think of anything else. so you text the guy who did this to you. it's not his fault- it takes two to tango- but it feels like it's his fault. and you ask if you can come over. then you run over.

his house is only a few doors down, so it takes all of thirty seconds. of course, it's raining. it had to have been raining. it wouldn't have made sense if it wasn't raining.

he's sitting in his living room on his laptop. goddamn, looking back now, so clueless that his life was about to change. and you ask him to come upstairs, and then you run ahead of him to your room.

you see his housemate on the way up, and she asks if you're okay or something, and you kind of shrug her off. you're friends with her, and she knew you were going to take a test soon, so she probably knew what was up.

you take him upstairs.

"i don't wanna say it. can you just guess? will you make me-"

"you're late?"

"i'm pregnant."

he's ghost-faced. he's quiet and secretly freaking out. you calm him down. you tell him it's not a big deal, you'll just take a pill or something. by the way - spoiler alert - it is a big deal. it was maybe selfish to tell him, but a tiny bit of the burden was given to him in that moment, and that made you feel lighter.

you run back home.

and by "you" i mean me.