What oufit says "I'm carrying your child and really interested in learning your middle name?" Jeans and a t-shirt or the black "straight from the office" dress? I choose the former (casual), turn up Spotify and head north.
S lives 10 miles away, but it is rush hour in So-Cal. I have time to call my pal in Wisco for another pep talk. She assures me that the words will come. I have made my decision to have the baby and now I can share the information with him and give him space to digest it and to react.
I have no idea how I am going to do this. My confidence crumbles to tears and I am lost in Disturbed's version of "Sound of Silence." I'm outside his house now and trying to pull it together. I wipe my eyes, put on some lip gloss and head to the door.
He is waiting at the door with a smile and 2 Basset Hounds. I decide that I will wait to tell him until after dinner. I like him and am enjoying getting to know him. I don't want to ruin that. Maybe I can be "normal" for a few hours and then casually bring it up. I decline a drink and we head in to the living room to catch up on his weekend with his brother and my weekend with the meatheads.
It's going well (I think) until my reality is clouded with fantasy sequences like an episode of Ally McBeal. I mumble something about wanting to find a better way to transition the conversation but can't.
I feel my lower lip start to quiver and our eyes meet. He knows. I say it anyway.
Human emotions are inexplicable. I watch his face shift from disbelief to fear to shock to anger to sweetness and then his head bows to his hands. I sit in silence. Is he trying to hold the information in? Is he trying to help it find the right place to process in his brain? He turns to me with such raw vulnerability. I start to cry.
We move to the kitchen so he can get a beer and we can talk at the table. The next hour is a kaleidoscope of tears, laughter and shock. We think we will be amazing parents. He asks if I have considered an abortion. We agree our child will be smart and athletic. We realize we both have depression and cancer in our families. We eat nachos (maybe just me.) I start to cry. He takes a whiskey. We swear off sex and decide to build an emotional bond. We end up in the bedroom.
I prepare to head home (ironically, we don't have sleep overs yet).We agree that we still like each other and will keep dating. He's concerned all our conversations will be about baby. I am concerned he wants to pretend it's not happening. I step into the darkness relieved this burden is lifted and petrified of what's to come.