Eternal Hope

This day could not get any worse.  I know better than to think things like this because the Universe will always see it as a challenge. And yet hope springs eternal. I look at the positive pregnancy test and inwardly wince. My family is going to disown me.  I sigh and think of Carter, my eyes going to the wallpaper on my phone that I know that I will have to change eventually. It’s a picture of the two of us caught candid by one of our friends at our weekly DnD game. We are smiling softly, leaning in close, our foreheads are touching. We were caught up in our own world and the intimacy—the love—is plain to see on our faces. Carter has never seen the picture and now he never will. He is not going to be happy to be shackled to the girl that just dumped him after a year and half of good times, just in time for his life to fall apart. As far as I knew he was currently recently reemployed and living out of his truck with his two cats.  Yeah, totally not ready to become a dad.  I look around at the room that I have for just two more months and then think about the lack of funds in my bank account. Could I make this work? I know that I could, but it is not something that I would necessarily look forward to. The thing is, I would never get rid of my baby. I fully believe that women should have the option of abortion, but I could never take advantage of the option. Beside the pregnancy test lay a folder full of information about adoption and I feel myself get nauseous at the thought of giving my baby to strangers. Could they maybe take care if it better than me? Maybe. And because I don’t have a definitive affirmative, I can’t even accept the thought.  My eyes fall to the letter on the bed with Panda Publishers logo on the front. I know that I have options and that I could make this work, but that meant moving to Seattle. Washington. Alone. I grip the hari at my temples with both hands and force myself to breathe. So, I need to figure out a life. With a baby. All by myself. Across the continent. No family. No contingency plan. I cover my mouth and run to bathroom to puke my guts up for the third time that morning.  So maybe things could get worse. .