I move my hand down between my legs and feel wetness. I’ve never in my life wished to have peed my pants before, but right now, I do. Though I know what it is, and my full bladder reminds me that I haven’t yet gone.
“I’m bleeding,” I say, voice a hollow whisper.
“Where?” Chase asks before he gets it. “Fuck. No.” He’s out of bed, turning on the light, and in front of me in just seconds. I hold out my hand, fresh blood on my fingers. The sight of the shiny crimson on my fingertips makes me dizzy. I wobble on my feet and if it weren’t for Chase, I’d pass out onto the floor.
“We need to go to the hospital,” Chase says. I nod but don’t move. He helps me to the bed and goes to his dresser, pulling out a pair of clean pajama pants. He leads me into the bathroom and brings me a towel. I pee, clean myself up, and get redressed.
If I hadn’t taken that test a few days ago, I would have thought this was my period. I would have been relieved, although embarrassed, to wake up in a puddle of blood in Chase’s bed. Though if I didn’t know I was pregnant, I might have gone out drinking with Lisa tonight and not be in Chase’s bed right now at all.
Chase helps me into the car and fiddles with the radio on the long drive to the hospital. My cramps intensify, and I hope the folded-up washcloth is enough. I didn’t bring any pads or tampons to Chase’s, and he, of course, doesn’t have any.
Chase takes one hand off the wheel and grips my thigh. “It’ll be okay. Whatever happens, it’ll be okay,” he says, echoing the same words he said when we were waiting for the test.
“Yeah.” I close my eyes and look at Chase. “It will.”
“Let’s go home,” Chase says softly, standing and coming over to the hospital bed. After an hour in the ER, we were told there was nothing that could be done. I had an early miscarriage. The doctor was surprised I even had symptoms and said many women who lose a pregnancy this early don’t even realize it, thinking they just had a late period. Medically, I’m perfectly healthy. The doctor even said we could ‘start trying again next cycle’ if we wanted to.
Falling didn’t make me lose the baby. I didn’t fall hard enough to hurt myself, and this early in pregnancy, there’s nothing yet to come detached, like there is with a baby further along. Still, Chase was overcome with guilt and needed to be assured again and again by the nurse that me tripping over a chair and landing on my butt wasn’t the reason for this.
I take Chase’s hand and get up, not talking as we go back to his car. He opens the door for me and gets in the driver’s seat with a sigh. I look down, arms wrapped tightly around myself.
“Sierra,” he says gently and takes my hand. “I love you. I want to make sure you know. No matter what, I love you and always will.”
Tears fill my eyes. “I love you, too.” I squeeze his hand and pull my seatbelt on. My head is spinning. I’m tired, which always makes me emotional. And I’m not sure how to feel right now. I’d only known I was pregnant for a few days. We didn’t try for a baby. We didn’t want this to happen. Having a baby right now would have fucked up our lives in more ways than we could think. Chase and I haven’t been together that long, and there’s a lot to be worked out before having a child together. Not having a baby should be a good thing. We can consider it again when the time is right. Years from now. After a wedding or once we move in together.
But I’m sad.
Really, really fucking sad.
I wish I hadn’t taken that stupid test.
I stare out the window the whole way back to Chase’s house.
“Are you okay?” he asks when we park.
“I think so. Are you?”
“No,” he answers, and it jars me. “I know the timing was all wrong, but I was starting to become okay with it. I’m sad. More than I thought I’d be.”
“Me too,” I say. And then I start crying. Chase helps me out of the car and wraps his arms around me, holding me as I sob. We’re in the parking lot of The Mill House, and the rushing water from the river echoes through the silent early morning.
“I love you,” he whispers. “I always will.”
“I love you too,” I say back between sobs. “I’m sorry I lost…I lost…” My words dissolve into tears.
“I never once thought it was your fault,” he goes on. “You heard the doctor. Sometimes it just happens and there’s no real reason. Don’t be sorry.”
I inhale sharply. “I don’t understand why this keeps happening. Lisa said I’m not cursed but I think I really am.”
“Curses aren’t real,” he soothes. “You’re not cursed.”
“It feels that way.”
“It might now, but it won’t forever,” he whispers and cups my face with his hands. He brushes away my tears and kisses me. “Let’s go to your house. It’s been a long fucking night.” We go around back and I sit on the rock overlooking the river while Chase gets his stuff from inside. I don’t say a word on the short drive to my house. The sun is up and I pull all the shades once we get inside.
“We need to talk about it.” Chase opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle of wine. “Maybe not now, but tomorrow.”
“Yeah. I know.”
He sets two glasses on the table and fills them. I pick mine up and take a gulp.
“You know what’s weird?” I start and take another drink. “If I didn’t take that test, we wouldn’t be sad. If I would have waited another few days to see if my period started, I would think this was all it was.”
Chase nods. “Yeah. That’s true.”
“I wish I hadn’t taken it. Because I did think about us together with a baby. I felt something for whatever I thought was growing inside of me.” I bring the glass to my lips and drain it. I set it down on the table and exhale, waiting for the alcohol to kick in and numb the pain.
“I did too. When I was holding my nephews today…” He trails off and finishes his wine. “Let’s go to bed.”
I nod and follow him into the bedroom. We snuggle close together, and the booze hits me. My lashes are wet with tears and my eyes feel swollen from crying. Chase pulls me onto his chest and runs his fingers up and down my arm until I fall asleep.
Having chugged a big glass of wine before bed, I once again wake up having to use the bathroom. Chase is still sleeping, and I worry about him overdoing it. He’s still recovering and getting in a fight was the last thing he needed.
It’s early in the morning, and we’ve only been asleep for a few hours. I go into the bathroom and turn on the shower. I strip from my clothes and pull my hair into a messy bun on the top of my head and look at myself in the mirror as I wait for the shower to warm up.
My hands land on my abdomen and my bottom lip quivers. Dizziness crashes down on me, brought on by a whirlwind of emotions. The fact that I had gotten pregnant hits me, and all the consequences of an unplanned pregnancy play out in my head.
Telling my parents.
Going to church with my growing belly.
Making room in this small house for Chase and our baby.
Figuring out how to work and raise a child.