TITLE: "Getting Used To"
AUTHOR: Jen
EMAIL: JenR13@aol.com
RATING: G
SPOILERS:
Requiem
CLASSIFICATION: VA
KEYWORDS:
First person Scully POV; Scully angst
ARCHIVE: Go ahead and
do it with my blessing.
SUMMARY: Some Scully thoughts about
her new situation.
DISCLAIMER: Mine? As
if.
NOTES: This is extremely short piece and the first
post-ep I've written on my
own. It's my little break from "Meant to Be?"
which I am just about to wrap
up.
"Getting Used
To"
by Jen
Pregnant.
I'm still getting used to the idea.
I'm still
getting used to the trips to the obstetrician.
I'm still getting used to
the morning sickness and the occasional bout of
dizziness.
I'm still
getting used to the empty space I wake up to each morning.
I'm in denial
about that, I think.
Every morning it's the same routine: get up, eat,
and try to get on with
my life.
It's a more difficult routine then
it sounds.
I haven't been buying anything for the baby. As I approached
my fourth
month, I still hadn't even brought anything for the baby. The only
baby
items I have sit in the corner of my bedroom, collecting dust, all
gifts from
my mother and Skinner, the only two people who know of my
pregnancy.
I can't get enough strength to go shopping.
I can't get
used to the idea of doing it without him.
Just like I can't get used to
idea of giving up his apartment, either. I
continue to find the money for
the rent, somewhere, even though I realize
that with a baby on the way there
is no way I can keep up with the payments
much longer.
But giving up
the apartment would be like admitting defeat.
He will come back. I know
he will.
However, I can't get used to the fading feeling of hope that
comes with
each passing day, each passing week, each passing month.
I
can't get used to it.
The baby needs things. The baby needs a
mother.
The baby needs a father, too.
I try not to think about it.
This baby will have a father.
The string of hope is growing thin - I
can't get used to the fact that
that is the truth.
So I continue the
routine as the pregnancy progresses: get up, eat, go to
the doctor's
appointments, perform all the functions.
My mother's noticed my mood. My
doctor has, too.
I'm happy about being pregnant; I really am.
I
just can't get used to being pregnant without him.
Today was another
doctor's appointment. Just another part of the
routine: go to the office,
get a lecture from the OB about my mood, go home.
Today there was a girl
there, one who looked as if she'd barely turned
sixteen. No one was with her
and she looked all alone. Abandoned. Scared.
Like she had no support in
the world.
Today I went shopping. I brought a pair of green booties to go
with some
of the clothes my mother had brought.
I have
support.
I brought a crib, too.
I'll never get used to the idea
of being pregnant without him.
But for now, I have too.
I have to
get used to being a mother, too.
With that thought, I smile.
The
End.
Feedback appreciated. JenR13@aol.com