Disclaimer: Xena and Gabrielle belong to Renaissance\MCA Universal and all that. They are not mine and I make no profit from this. Sarah, Nicole, David, Grandma and everyone else are mine. Please do not use them or copy my stories without permission.
Feedback is very much appreciated, e-mail me at: XenaWarriorPrincess4@juno.com
Part 2
I arched my back and shut my eyes tight, not caring that my head was bumping against the car door. Every inch of my body felt alive, on fire. He kissed under my chin and down my neck while he firmly held my hips in his hands. A seat belt dug into my back and I thought about moving it, but I didn't want to ruin this moment. My breath came faster and faster. I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders and he said, "I love you, Sarah." "I love you too, David." I replied. He moved his forearms up to rest near either side of my shoulders. I tilted my head back as far as it could go, wincing as I felt the sharp pain shoot through my head from the door again, and opened my mouth. I made a small sound, something between a gasp and a yelp. I pulled him against me. This has to be the best feeling in the world, I thought. I ran my fingers through his rich brown hair, enjoying the smell of him that was all around me. I did love him, more than anything. More than my life, even. I kissed his ear and rubbed my cheek against his, snuggling down into his neck. I opened my eyes for a moment as he lifted his head and I looked at him. Moving my hand from his shoulder I wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. I felt my body began to get hotter and closed my eyes again, breathing faster than ever before.
I sat bolt upright in the bed, sweating and panting just like in the dream. I pulled the covers closer to me, partially because I was hoping to dissolve into them from embarrassment and partially to fight off the chills that ran over my body. I sat there in the dead silence and darkness of my room, blushing, thinking of the scenes that had just run through my head. Suddenly a great sadness came over me. I wished with all my heart that I hadn't woken up. I wanted to hold onto that tremendous feeling of love that I had felt in the dream. The feeling that I really had felt so many times with David. I tousled my hair to get myself fully awake. Picking up my alarm clock, I stood in the moonlight that filtered through my window trying to see what time it was. 3 am, Monday morning. In a few hours I would have to face David at school for the first time since he had dumped me.
I stood next to the water fountain, watching him from down the hall. School had just let out and some blonde bimbo was leaning her back against David's locker while he leaned over her, pretending to be listening to what she was saying while he examined her 'assets'. Not even a full 48 hours since we had broken up and he was already leering at this air head. My book bag was slung over my shoulder and over my arm I held David's letter jacket and another jacket of his, only this one was leather. I was returning them to him, but I wasn't going to give back the small silver ring that he had given me on my birthday. That was mine, if he wanted it he could ask for it. The blonde bimbo went to leave, turning around to coo 'good bye' at him. As soon as she was a safe distance away I began walking towards him. Clearing my throat a little I said quietly, "I believe these are yours.", and held them out. He reached and took the one off the top, the letter jacket, and threw it in his locker, slamming the door. "This one too." I said, glancing towards the leather jacket still over my arm. "Naaa, you keep that one," he replied as he took a few steps backwards down the hall, "Show it to the baby." he said callously before turning and disappearing into the crowded hallway.
Wednesday afternoon I began walking towards Nicole's house, it was one street over from mine. Grandma had not spoken a word to me since our fight on Sunday, and she only spoke to Dad when necessary. Life at our house was getting very awkward. Dad and I tried to make polite conversation, but our hearts weren't in it. It was useless trying to talk about my pregnancy, if polite conversation was awkward then that was taboo. We certainly couldn't avoid it forever, no matter how hard we tried. Sooner or later it was going to have to be faced. Would I keep the baby? If not, then what? I remembered a lady in our neighborhood a long time ago who had a baby, only she and her husband were too poor to care for him. They had put him up for adoption. Could I do that? Would I want to do that? I pushed the thought out of my mind, I really didn't want to think about what would happen. Besides, I had plenty of time to think. At the most I was probably...what? One or two months along?
I walked up to the Wattford's house, knocked on the door, and waited for Nicole to throw it open with her standard enthusiastic greeting. Instead Mrs. Wattford opened the door. She's petite and blonde, just like Nicole, and has a friendly smile. "Hi," I greeted her. "Is Nikki here?"
"No, I'm afraid she and Roger went shopping. He came over about 45 minutes after Nicole got home from school."
"Oh...." I felt a slight sting of resentment.
"But come on in, I'd like to talk to you." she said, holding the door open and motioning me inside. I went in and we sat on the couch. Mrs. Wattford smoothed her aqua green dress and looked at me kindly. "Your father has told me that you're pregnant," she began. "And he's asked me to talk to you because he doesn't feel that it's proper for the two of you...."
"I understand." I said.
"Exactly how late is your period?"
"About two and a half weeks. And I've been feeling really sick lately."
"Is there anything else that could make you late?"
I shook my head.
"All right. I'll make you an appointment with an obstetrician."
And that was that. My appointment was with a Dr. Ballard for the following Saturday at 10 am.
Mrs. Wattford and Nicole went with me to see the doctor. He worked out of Saint Paul's Hospital in downtown Woodmont. I was glad to have them with me because I hated hospitals and talking with Nikki and her mom provided a distraction, except all that Nicole talked about was Roger. I have always hated hospitals, even though I've only been in one twice my entire life. The first time was the day before my mom died. Dad had taken me to visit her and I remember the white walls and counting the tiles on the floor as he and I walked to her room together. The second time was two years ago when Nicole had to be hospitalized for a bad case of the flu and we came to visit her.
I signed in at the front desk on the maternity floor and sat next to Nicole in the waiting room that was a few feet away. I started filling out the stack of forms that the lady had given me. A big, burly nurse called me back to the desk a few moments later to ask me to go pee in a cup. About ten minutes after that she said that the doctor would see me now. "Good luck!" Nicole called after me. A short nurse led me to a small room down the hall and told me to change into a hospital gown while I waited for Dr. Ballard. The room was barely big enough to hold an examining table, sink, and the screen I was changing behind. After I changed I folded my clothes and sat on the examining table. I couldn't resist swinging my feet since the table was pretty high off the ground. I looked around the sparsely decorated room. On the right there was a chart labeled 'FETAL DEVELOPMENT' that showed drawings of babies at various stages of gestation, and on the left was a painting of a landscape. I wondered why it was always cold in hospitals. Cold like death. The door opened with a loud creak and the doctor walked in. He was a man of about 45, medium height and a plump, stocky build. He reminded me of the principal at my old elementary school. He seemed nice enough because he greeted me with a smile and told me that he was Dr. Ballard. He then asked me to step on the scale that was just outside the door and wrote down my weight on the chart in his hand. I sat on the table once again as he gave me a thorough physical with lots of poking, prodding, and looking under my gown. He didn't say much but wrote on the chart a lot. After that Dr. Ballard drew enough blood to paint a barn from my arm. He said I could change back into my clothes and should schedule an appointment for next month with the woman at the front desk. He also wrote me a prescription for some vitamins that I was supposed to start taking every day. Before he turned to leave he said, "Oh, and your estimated due date is May 2nd." Nine days before my birthday. I thanked him and he left me to change.
School was something that I enjoyed. I loved being with my friends for the majority of the day and I relished the challenge of the work. I was surprised when Mrs. Orlin, co-director of the drama club, called me into her office Monday after rehearsal. "Sarah, come in and sit down." She was very straightforward and didn't like to waste time. I gladly sat down. Being worn out from our long rehearsal I was more than obliged to sit. We were putting on 'The Tempest' next week and I had won the part of Ariel, one of the lead roles. I was proud beyond words at getting that part and was proud of the whole production. The entire cast had been working really hard to pull our performance together.
"Did you have a good rehearsal?" she asked pointedly.
"Yes ma'am," I said, smiling. "Wonderful."
"Good. Sarah, I'm afraid I have some bad news for you."
Uh-oh. "Yes?" I asked, wondering what on earth it could be.
"I am afraid we have decided that due to your condition you should no longer have the lead role of Ariel."
I was stunned. "Condition?" I asked.
"I believe you know what I mean." Mrs. Orlin answered, looking indicatively at my stomach. "Julie McLaughlin has studied the play and knows the part fairly well, she will take your place. There are no other parts for you to fill in 'The Tempest' so it seems you must sit this one out. As far as your being in future productions...we shall see."
"How does my 'condition' affect the play?" I asked.
Mrs. Orlin took a deep breath and began, "It's just that you will probably get so fatigued with your pregnancy *and* the play your performance would suffer as well as schoolwork, and of course we just can't have the responsibility if something were to happen...tripping over a cord backstage or the stairs, tight and constricting costumes...."
I never knew participating in a play was so dangerous. There was something rotten in Denmark, so to speak. Mrs. Orlin was bluffing, it was obvious. She just didn't want me there.
"I'm willing to take the risk."
"Sarah, I am sorry. Please return your script and costume sometime tomorrow. Good-bye."
I was shocked. Not because she knew I was pregnant, David had done a good job of telling that around school, but that she would kick me out of the play because of it.
Two days later Dad came home from work with a small package. I was sitting at the kitchen table doing homework and he laid it next to me.
"I bought you a present." he said, smiling.
"Thanks, Dad. Can I open it?" I replied.
"Sure!" he sat down next to me. I unwrapped a pink book that said 'Child Care and Training Guide', it was all about pregnancy and caring for a baby.
"Thanks so much!" I said, giving him a hug.
"You're welcome, I'm glad you like it, honey. I know that it must be hard not have anyone to talk about these sort of things with and...." Dad didn't finish, he seemed embarrassed.
I thanked Dad again and took the book up to my room to read. It covered EVERYTHING from conception to 4 year olds and had a personal record for your baby at the back, where you could put their hospital bracelet and stuff. I loved it and planned to read it from cover to cover.
"We had THE most awesome time. Seriously, I cannot remember when I've had so much fun!" It was Saturday, four weeks after Mrs. Orlin kicked me out of 'The Tempest' and Nicole was telling me about going to the fair with Roger the previous night. We were laying on a blanket in my backyard enjoying the last decent days before winter sat in. I rolled my eyes and turned over on my back to look at the sky. I was sick of hearing the exploits of Nicole's bird-like boyfriend. It was all she talked about anymore. Yes, I was being bitter. Nicole had a great boyfriend who took her places and enjoyed being with her and mine was feeling up every girl at school who'd let him. And I wasn't feeling my best either. Rather slug-like, actually. I always felt like I was going to throw up, but never did. The baby book that Dad got me said to try to keep your stomach full, eat lots of carbohydrates, and rest often. I tried all that and none of it helped. I listened to her ramble for ten more minutes then I'd had enough. "Nikki, will you please shut up about Roger? Just for fifteen minutes?" I said. She looked at me, shocked. "It's ALL you talk about!" I continued.
Nicole looked at the ground. "Sorry, I thought you enjoyed hearing about it."
"Well I don't." I said, crossing my arms over my chest as I studied the clouds.
"I need to go home now." she said quietly. Then she got up and left.
School, that I once loved, I had begun to hate. Everyone knew about the pregnancy by now, thanks to David, and kept me at arm's length. Several of my girlfriends had come up and said how sorry they were for me. Everywhere I went people whispered behind my back, even teachers. Did they think I didn't know what they were talking about? Was I the only girl who ever slept with her boyfriend? No, of course not. Some girls at school did all the time. They even bragged about it. But no one else that I ever heard of had gotten pregnant.
My whole outlook on life had turned melancholy and bleak. Each morning was a battle of wills with myself just to get out of bed. Dress. Trudge downstairs. Eat breakfast in awkward silence with Dad and Grandma. Go to school and pretend I didn't hear the gossip or see David with his clique, telling them every minute detail of what we had done. Come back home and either sit in my room until supper time or go over to Nicole's house and hear about Roger the Great. Eat another meal with Dad trying to pretend like everything was normal and Grandma sending me black looks, telling us how hard she had worked that day. October passed into November this way. Dr. Ballard assured me that mood swings were a normal part of pregnancy as did the baby book. Normal as it may be it lost me a couple of friends thanks to my shortness and grumpiness. I had lashed out at Nicole several times but she was determined not to give up on me. I was glad because I needed her more now than ever before. She was one person that I could talk to and tell everything. The girls at school had stopped inviting me to go shopping and to their parties.
I didn't realize something until one afternoon, the second Sunday of November. I was walking home from the library, wearing David's leather jacket that he didn't want back, feeling the cold air freezing a path down my windpipe. I saw a woman pushing a navy blue pram coming towards me. She looked like she was going to call on somebody. I stopped her and peered in at the baby. He was a lovely little boy bundled up in a blue outfit, about 5 months old, cuddled up asleep. I complimented her on how beautiful he was and went on my way. She seemed so proud of him, beaming and thanking me for the compliment. Then a thought came over me. I had not been thinking at all about my baby. All I had thought about was me, what was happening to me and what was going to happen to me. What would life be like for him or her? It wasn't going to have a father and not much of a mother. Grandma had made it clear that she didn't want anything to do with me or the baby so who was going to teach me to care for it? Mrs. Wattford? She couldn't be there all the time. Dad worked, and even if he didn't he couldn't be expected to help care for the child. We did not have a spare room so it would have to share with me. What about when it gets older? Were we just going to live with Dad and Grandma forever? Living with two old people and your no good mother isn't much of a life for a kid. I couldn't work and keep the baby, how would I make any money to get us a place of our own? I could leave it with a baby-sitter. But who wants to keep someone else's kid? And with what most baby sitters charge, it wouldn't be worth it. I never considered any of this before now. But it was all becoming apparent because I had recently started showing. Just a bit, but enough to bring the whole thing into sharp focus. I stood before the mirror in my underwear every night and looked at the small tummy I'd developed. No one else could probably tell, after all I was only 3 1/2 months pregnant, but I could. It scared me. And I wished a horrible thing. I wished that the baby would go away. I wished that at my next doctor's appointment he would say that I wasn't pregnant anymore, and he didn't know what had happened. It would be gone. Just gone. Over with. Maybe if the baby was gone David and I could go back to the way we were. It was a very selfish wish but I couldn't help it. I felt trapped and alone and abandoned. I wished it with all my heart. Or so I thought. I never dreamed that my wish may come true.
I stood in front of the mirror and did the nightly examination of my slightly swelling stomach. The part just under my navel was starting to protrude a bit. My clothes still fit fine, though. I ran my hand over the pit of my back, it had begun hurting during supper and was getting worse. I put on my nightgown and got into bed. I woke up at 1 am. My back was hurting and my stomach too. It felt like menstrual cramps from hell. I pulled my knees up to my chest hoping the pain would go away. It didn't. It was a burning, sharp throbbing all through my uterus. I stood up and gasped as another hot pain went down my lower back. I quietly went down the hall to the bathroom, closed the door, and flicked on the light switch. I waited a moment for my eyes to get used to the bright light. I sat on the toilet and it was then that I saw it. Three big splotches of bright red blood in my underwear.
I shook Dad hard, trying to wake him. "Dad," I sobbed. "Wake up! Something's wrong."