“Sure, I’ll be fine. It’s probably something I ate. Neal took me to this fancy schmancy French restaurant last night. I don’t think all that rich food agreed with me.”
“I think a little more than some rich French food has gotten in to you.”
“What are you babbling about now?” Damita asked.
“If I were a betting woman, I would bet every dime I’ve got that it’s that rich husband of yours that gotten into you and not that French food.”
“Huh?”
“Neal and Damita sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G, first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Damita with a baby carriage.”
“Now I’m convinced you’ve finally lost your mind. First of all, did you really just sing that elementary school song to me and second, I’m on the pill. I can’t be pregnant.”
“Don’t you read the information provided with your medication? Abstinence is the only one hundred percent foolproof method of birth control.”
“I’ve been on the pill for as long as I can remember and I have never had a slip.”
“When was the last time you had your period?”
“Uh, uh, I don’t really remember. I’ve had so much going on lately, I haven’t really been keeping track.”
“So, let me see. You’re throwing up, you don’t think you’ve had your period and lately you’ve been eating like you’re Damita Whitmore-Westman, the human trash compactor. You know what all that adds up to? You’re pregnant.”
“I can’t be. This is the worst time.”
“You better go to the doctor and check it out; especially if you think you might want to manipulate the outcome, so to speak. In the meantime, we can go to the drugstore and get a home pregnancy test.”
“Do you mind if we stop at the drugstore before we go to lunch? I don’t think my mind is going to be able to rest until I find out for sure.”
“Of course I don’t mind.”
They stopped off at the drugstore and picked what Damita thought was the easiest pregnancy test available.
She was understandably distracted at lunch and couldn’t wait until she could use the pregnancy test, which was now burning a hole in her pocketbook.
“I’ll be right back,” Damita said.
Wendy knew exactly what she was going to do.
When Damita returned to the table, her face was ashen and her expression emotionless.
“Plus or negative? Even though I don’t really need to ask.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“That one percent can be a bitch,” Wendy added, shaking her head.
“I can’t do this now. I can’t.”
“Well, whatever you decide, I got your back.”
“Wendy, please don’t mention this to anyone at work.”
“Of course, I won’t. I would never do that.”
“I’m sorry, Wendy. Until I know what I’m going to do, this has to remain a secret.”
“I completely understand. I had a slip up a few years ago and I wasn’t ready to be a mother, so I did what I had to do.”
“I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet, but if I do decide to terminate, will you come with me?”
“Of course I will. Are you sure you don’t want Neal to go with you?”
“Wendy, if I do this, I’m going to have to do it quietly. Neal wants to have children more than anything. He even suggested I quit my job so we could get started making babies right away. I don’t even know if I want to be a mother. . .ever.”
“Didn’t you guys discuss all that before you got married? That’s a pretty big deal.”
“I know. I got so used to dating men who spent their lives dodging the white picket fence and two point five children scenario that it never occurred to me that Neal would be in that rare percentage of men I’ve dated that actually wants to have children. Neal is very different than the men I used to date.”
“So you really think you might never want to have children?”
“I’ve always believed that children aren’t for everyone. People look at you like you’re the living embodiment of Satan when you say you don’t want children, but that’s so unfair. I have a cousin who figured out when she was very young that she didn’t want children and I’ve always respected her for that. She made up her mind and stuck to her guns, no matter what society told her she was supposed to want. As far as I’m concerned the promise of motherhood is a trap, especially for my generation. Little girls are groomed to be caregivers from the moment those first dolls are thrust into their hands. What happens to the little girl that doesn’t want to play with dolls or the grown woman that doesn’t want to be someone’s mother? Those are the women that are judged. Meanwhile, you have ill-equipped mothers making babies simply because they can. Motherhood should not only be a choice, but a choice that is made with great consideration.”