All I can think about is how badly I need a new pair of black flats. Observing them from this angle makes me want to buy them right after, which I’m sure my mother won’t object to. I hear her still talking to the doctor, explaining everything that’s happened to Aunt Maggie along with her recent test results.
Meanwhile Doctor Ruth Zimberg scribbles fast on her notepad as she interrupts with more questions.

I feel the cool breeze below, laying on the examining table with my feet on the stirrups, gripping the flimsy sheet that’s covering my waist. I wonder if I’d be more nervous if Harry were here and I’m kind of glad he isn’t.

“Alright, Jude. So I’m going to perform a quick pelvic exam to check your vagina, cervix and uterus for any signs of tissue growth. I just want you to relax your muscles, the less tense you are the more comfortable it will be, okay?”

I nod. I’ve had a pelvic exam before, but I can appreciate her calm demeanor. She asks me to slide further down the table and widen my legs. I fight back the urge to blush, seeing as how Harry’s been the only one down there for the past few months. With her gloves on, I can feel her fingers delicately press around and poke at my vagina. My mother sits quietly across the room with nothing but a hopeful expression.

Next, Doctor Zimberg retrieves the familiar metal instrument that’s about to probe me in the non pleasurable way compared to Harry’s … instrument. I feel the pressure after she inserts it and focus on relaxing as much as I can. She does a pap smear and after everything’s done she feels my outer abdomen and asks me if I feel any discomfort. Only the slight soreness from sex that I refuse to admit.

“Have you ever experienced abnormal cramping or any pain in your abdomen?”

“Yes but it’s always been around the time of my menstrual cycle so I never gave it much thought.”

“How often?”

“A few times,” I reply nervously as she stands up and peels off her gloves.

“Any other symptoms like severe pain during periods, bowel movements or urination. Bloating, constipation, spotting, or pain during intercourse?”

I gulp, trying not to glance at my mother when she says intercourse but there is one thing I do know.

“I’ve had spotting several times.”

“And how long have you been spotting?”

“I’d say on and off for about a year.”

“How long does this last?”

“Ummm… maybe a day or two. Not sure.”

“Alright, so I’m going to do an ultrasound to get a better look at things. We might have to do both outside against your abdomen and the transvaginal ultrasound, where we insert a tiny camera to identify any cysts or abnormal growths.”

“Okay.”

“The nurse should have the room ready. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes,” she smiles.

---

Passing through the shoe racks, my mom is quiet as she studies my every move and expression. She knows me too well. I like to process things and not be hounded with questions like if I’m alright every five minutes. Instead, she points out the cute flats that I might like and I smile. I see the various styles and patterns but I can’t seem to shake the abstract image of the sonogram just an hour ago.

The doctor kept squinting and making muffled noises with her mouth. It was hard to read the screen so I tried to read her instead. Her brows would furrow and her lips would press together but over all she was calm. She kept quiet during both ultrasounds and I was too curious and clueless to ask any questions.

At the end, she printed a few screen shots and said it looked like I was fine. I had small signs of tissue growth but nothing too alarming. I still need to schedule frequent checkups to be sure it doesn’t spread.

The fact that I had any sign at all was a bit numbing. I wanted to leave with the notion that it had stopped with my mom, that it wasn’t genetic after all. Now I have to stress about getting these frequent appointments with the gynecologist.

“She said it was small, and in most cases they don’t grow more than that,” mom interrupted.

“Most cases, but not in Aunt Maggie’s,” I frowned. “Anyway, I think I’m just going to get the black pair.”

“Let me get them for you… Are you hungry yet?”

I nod.

I’m not really hungry but playing along as though I am, as though I feel completely normal, will give my mom peace of mind.

Hungry…stirrups…ultrasound…doctor…Linda.

I haven’t talked with her lately and I wonder how her pregnancy is going.

Pregnancy…period?

In the middle of biting my slice of pizza, I casually pull out my cell phone and maze through my calendar.

I’m late. Am I late? Yes, technically I am. I missed my period around the sixth. But, I’m not pregnant, right? I mean, I didn’t get a blood test but they did every possible exam down there. The doctor would have mentioned that little important detail had she thought so. Or even asked me in private. Unless…it’s too early to tell. Unless, I’m to find out with the pap smear results.

Oh, by the way, your results were negative but you’re positively pregnant. Will those be the first words I read in the mail? Can’t I find out sooner? I can escape my mom an hour and make a run for Walgreens, then pee on the stick in their bathroom. Yes, that’s what I’ll have to do.

I offer to pick up some movies at the nearest Redbox, which so happens to be right in front of the pharmacy. If mom asks why I took so long, I’ll simply say I couldn’t decide on the rentals.

---

How’s your day going, love? Miss me? -H xx.

You have no idea. I had a good day, went to a doctor’s appointment. Everything’s looking good. –J <3

Did they find any signs of endometriosis like your aunt has? –H xx.

No… but how did you know I was getting checked for that? –J <3

Your father told me when we went on that drive. I was waiting for you to tell me, but I know why you didn’t. –H xx.

I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to worry. I thought you wouldn’t leave… -J <3

I know and I LOVE you. I’m just glad everything’s alright. I’ll only be here one more day and then I’m coming back to you. –H xx.

You hurry back. I can’t sleep without you beside me. –J <3

I’m glad to hear it. Text me if you can’t fall asleep, okey? –H xx.

Absolutely. Love you! –J <3


I look back up to the TV screen, my attention is everywhere but this movie. Drowsiness is beginning to set in and my bed sounds like heaven. It’s only nine at night, yet I want this day to be over with. I’ll gladly cross it out as my least favorite day of the month. Granted, my pregnancy test was negative, so that could only mean that my birth control has messed up my cycle. So much for control over my life, that seems to be the one thing I don’t have.

---

My room is so quiet, I’m used to hearing Harry breathing beside me on the pillow. I don’t enjoy waking up to this empty space. The bed is colder and looks so much bigger than my normal full size. Just one more day. I would sleep through this one but I need to upload and update the fan page before tomorrow. Then I’ll sleep.

I must have called Linda with my thoughts yesterday as I glance at my phone and catch a text.

Why do I have to be the one who throws up every morning? All my friends had envious pregnancies, I get the morning sickness. Anyway, how does it feel to be done with university? –Linda

Saved by the text. I call Linda and lend an ear for her to vent on. After she tells me every discomfort and worry, I spill mine. I tell her all the knowledge I’ve collected these past few days and how I am worried despite how much I show or say that I’m not. I miss her and wish we didn’t live so far away. A girl’s day with ice cream would be perfect right now.

After our call, I resist the urge to go downstairs for breakfast, knowing my parents are most likely at the table with their morning brew. I don’t want to be confronted with the scripted questions if I’m alright and if I’ve talked to Harry. Not to mention that dad shared more than he needed to with my boyfriend, unaware that mom and I agreed to keep it quiet.

An hour later, I save the text and Skewed Lines’ web page reloads showing their updates and fan shout outs. It’s an hour from noon time, hunger is getting the best of me, but I still have time to update my blog too. From dreamer, to famous girlfriend to possible uterus cancer victim...that’s a bit drastic. I take that last statement back before I jinx myself.

There’s two knocks at my door.

“Hi sweetie, oh good you’re up. You have a package downstairs that just arrived. I think it’s from Harry,” mom smiles.

“Harry,” I whisper with a smile. “I’ll be right down.” She nods and just as she’s about to close my door I add “Mom, is there any coffee left?”

“Your cup is waiting for you in the microwave.”

That’s my mom, always a hundred percent even when I’m feeling fifty.

Notes

A/N: Chapter Playlist

Smile - Mikky Ekko

---

So what do you think is going to happen to Jude, any guesses?

Wonder what Harry sent her ;)