Here I am again, sitting wearing one of these scratchy, paper gowns in a florescent room that smells like disinfectant. It brings back so many unpleasant memories. Jane isn’t here. I wanted to do this on my own. I am not sure how I feel about being pregnant by a man who forced himself on me. I must make sure I really am pregnant before I can decide my feelings. Jane cannot be a part of that. She is trying to be respectful and give me my space, but I am not sure what to do next. If I push too hard, I will lose her. If I am pregnant, is it too much to ask her to stay?  

I did not say it back, but I do love her. At least I could have before discovering about the pregnancy. Despite how hard it would be to overcome having a child on my own from a horrifying tragic event, I already know that I am going to have this child. No matter what, this imaginary idea is already a part of me. I guess I have already made peace with this pregnancy even before the doctor comes in. Now to decide how or if Jane fits in. 

“Miss Donaldson,” the doctor says walking into the room, “I have the results of your test. Congratulations. You’re pregnant.” 

To be concluded…