The Hurt

Understand

I sighed, “Alright, I don’t really know how to tell you this.” I sat up in bed to face him better. “Sean, I’m-I’m pregnant,” my voice cracked in saying this. I could feel the sting of tears threatening to escape from the corners of my eyes.

He propped his head up with his arm to look at me, and gave me a little smile before speaking, “Was that what all you're fussin’ was about?” He clicked his tongue, “Do you want the thing?”

I was taken aback by how casually he asked me if I wanted ‘the thing’ that was partially his. “I—I don’t know,” I said, looking away from his gaze. “I’m not sure if I’ll have a choice when it’s all said and done.”

“What do you mean? I don’t care if you keep it or not, if it’s what you wanna do, I’ll do my part to take responsibility,” he rubbed my leg reassuringly. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to be sweet or not.

I didn’t want to play games anymore. I didn’t care if he wanted to stick it out or not, to ‘take responsibility’ or not. I just wanted to be out with it, “They told me I have cancer. The baby might not even make it.” I said bluntly.

The softness in his expression hardened, his jaw clenched, and he was looking at me more intently. “What?” He managed after a moment of silence.

“I have ovarian cancer, and I’m pregnant with your child, Sean.” I reiterated matter-of-factly.

There was a silence and a thick tension between us as he chewed on what I had just told him, “So, the appointment didn’t go well?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at what he had said, “No, not especially,” I laughed weakly.

“So, what do we do?”

“What do you mean?” I was confused by the “we” in his question.

He sheepishly rubbed the back of his shaven head, “I wanna help you with this.”

“What do you want to help me with? I have good enough insurance to take care of the treatment, and I’ll be able to keep working for the most part,” I shrugged.

“A’ite, but what about,” he looked over and nodded towards my abdomen, “You know?”

I let out a breath, “Well, that’s where we have some things to consider.”

“Like what? If you’re gonna keep it or not?” he asked.

“Right. If I did, I wouldn’t be able to start intensive treatment until towards the end of the pregnancy, and after it’s born.” I recalled what the doctor had told me in that room hours earlier.

“How bad is it, the cancer? Has it spread to other parts yet?”

My hand absently slid to my stomach, to lie about the severity, or not? “It’s just in one area right now; it hasn’t spread yet,” I replied, not technically lying. It was mostly just the inside of my bits.

Sean’s expression was a serious one; he was focused on me, what I was saying, and asking practical questions about it. I still didn’t know how he was feeling about all of this. He was hard to read at this moment. “How far along are you?”

I stood up, put on my oversized sleeping shirt, and went to get the sonogram that was hidden with my mail on the kitchen counter. I came back and handed it to him, “Only a month or two at the most.”

He studied the picture, really looking at it, his finger tracing the little bean shape on the image, “Is that…?” He looked up at me, his eyes bright, a soft expression on his face.

I nodded, “That’s our baby.” I put a hand on his shoulder, my eyes stung, trying to fight back the tears of such an innocent moment.

I was still standing next to him as he hugged me tightly, his head pressed against my stomach, “That’s our baby.” He repeated this in a course whisper and sighed deeply.

I rubbed the back of his head and his shoulders. He seemed to be taking this more seriously than he initially led on, asking if I even wanted to keep it just a few minutes ago. I gave him a few minutes to collect himself, but he didn’t stop holding me and looking at the image. “So,” I broke the silence, “what do you think I should do?”

He paused, thinking carefully for a moment before answering, “Shoot, baby, you shouldn’t be asking me ‘bout that,” he sighed. “It’s your health, could be your life if things went south. Hell, could be two lives lost if things didn’t go well,” he glanced at the picture. I felt his hand squeeze me a little as he did this.

I sat down on the bed next to him, “We don’t have to decide today, we can think about it, do some research, talk with the doctors, weigh the options…” I trailed off, trying to stifle a yawn.

He gave me a small smile, “You tired?”

I nodded, rubbing my eyes.

He reached across me to turn off the lamp, “Le’s get some rest, we can talk ‘bout it in the mornin’. Sound good?”

“Okay,” I replied. I was exhausted from the events of today, but my mind didn’t seem to share my body’s tiredness. Sean covered us up, kissed me on the cheek, and buried his face in the back of my neck. His rhythmic breathing and the weight of his arm around me put me at a little more ease. Enough so, I didn’t remember falling asleep, the nothingness interrupting the buzzing of my mind.