Once, in a little kingdom far, far away, on the third floor of a would-be castle with drippy faucets, I wrote in my journal that I was scared I was pregnant. I left the journal at my side of the bed, and went to get some coffee. I stayed downtown all damned day, drinking coffee and staring into space. When I came home, my lover's friends were over, getting ready to go out. My lover had his glasses off, and his friend Celeste was lying on my side of the bed.
These things didn't register as sinister until a year and a half later when a girl I barely knew yelled, "Helena, how's your baby?"
I said: "What baby?"
"I heard you had a baby!"
"No... I was in Santa Fe for a year, that's maybe why I didn't see you for a long time... But I didn't have a baby..."
"Oh, because my friend Celeste told me that you were pregnant, and I thought by now you would have had the ba-"
She broke off. She realized she might have said something stupid. She realizes that I've probably had an abortion or something, and that she's offended me, or hurt me, or brought up painful memories. She says, "Well, I gotta go find my sister," and scurries off.
Moral of the story: if you're nine days late in your cycle, and you're really freaking out, don't fucking write that down where some stupid-assed drag queen can read it and announce your deepest, most private fears to everyone in town.
Well, for the past eight days, I've been freaking out. I'm usually as regular as clockwork: every half moon. The half moon was a little late this month, and then I was even later than the half moon. Eight days late, my calendar said last night when I found it under the bed. EIGHT fucking days.
The only person I said anything to was Louise. Louise has more "condom-broke" stories than anyone I know. Well, at least she TELLS them more than anyone else I know. Louise told me not to worry. She asked if I THOUGHT I was pregnant. I said no. My mom told me when she first got pregnant, she knew it within an hour. I don't know if my instincts are THAT good, but I do think I'd know. I do think I'd feel different. I mean hell; I feel different when I have a cup of COFFEE in me; it stands to reason I'd feel different if I had a HUMAN BEING in me. The only thing that felt different was that I was real, real sore, like I had cramps, but no cycle.
Louise said: "Have you been careful?"
I told her I had. Yeah, yeah, I said I had a fuck-buddy and all, but that doesn't mean we fucked that often... And the absolute LAST thing I want in the world is a child with a college freshman who talks to fairies but doesn't always find time to talk to me. Do you have to ASK if I was careful? I haven't always been, in my life, but I have been lately... DUDE, I have been lately! I have DREAMS of condoms I'm so careful.
Was going to go to the health center today and get a pregnancy test -- just to make sure, because even when you know you're not pregnant, for some reason you trust the little pee-stick more than you trust yourself -- but I woke up very suddenly. This only happens due to loud noises, bad dreams, or my body telling me to wake up because something gross is happening to it. It wasn't a loud noise or a bad dream, so I figured it was time to go to the bathroom... Sure enough, I don't suppose I'm going to need to go to the health center.
Actually, I'm going to anyway. Chances are, there's something wrong. The only other time I've been this late was when I first came off the birth control pill, and my body had no idea what to do with itself. So. Wish me luck with that, but when you're hanging out today, doing whatever you do, sing a happy little song (or just hum it) for me, because I'm quite pleased about things, and I don't have enough voices to sing about it with the proper enthusiasm...
~Helena*
(who would much rather have a dog right now...)