The Reason Why

Maybe I owe my readers an apology.

I left a very crucial part of the story out here.

And before I can explain what happens next,

I need to back track.

My desire to return to some semblance of my old life

Was in and of itself, not enough

to keep me from giving up On myself

or to instigate my fleeing from

the chaotic way my life was at the start of the new year.

There was an unexpected factor

That came to light in the month of January

Giving me a new motivation

And forming a metaphorical prod

to rush me into a better situation.

It started with a missed period.

My body had always been like clockwork,

Ever since that day in December when I was 14.

28 days or less. It was always there.

For the first time in my life, it never came.

At first I thought it was late because I was stressed.

2017 had been the most difficult year by far.

Then, I wondered if my recent underweight status

Had caused it to screech to a halt.

It was scary to think that slipping from 120 to a mere 103

Was enough to end the monthly clockwork,

But it wasn’t impossible.

It wasn’t until a friend said “you should take a test”

when I actually leant that  some thought.

The test was cheap. It wasn’t one of those “early detection”

High-end ones people use when they are really really trying.

This test was a Walgreens generic test, 2 for $16.

It was the type that had a window where a blue line would always show

And another window where a blue line would show

Only if it were positive.

Somehow, despite the missed period,

I thought that window would still be blank

And in a day or two, I would get the telltale cramps

Of the onsetting period.

The test was dipped in the cup for the allotted time

To make it work.

It was then taken out and set on the counter

And left for 2 minutes, per instructions.

The second line appeared almost right away.

I prayed in my head for it to disappear.

It only grew stronger.

I called my husband in to look at the test.

I should have been happy.

We’d been married going on four years.

I was 30 years old.

But in the ashes of my lost career,

And the stigma of having been separated from him

For three months the year before

And all the accusations we fired back and forth at each other

It seemed like the most bleak time for this to happen.

Instead of hugging him and crying happy tears

Like the couples on the TV commercials,

I was angry. And confused. And anxious.

So I said “dammit Max, there’s a line”.

For a few weeks after that,

I hoped it was a fluke.

A false positive.

A chemical malfunction in my body

That would rectify itself.

It would be a sad thing to go through,

But it would pass.

When the first test came up positive,

I was told I was about five weeks in.

At six weeks in,

I quickly developed the tell-tale nausea.

It lasted all day, every day.

A second test also sported two lines.

The next week, a blood test came back positive also.

I was just going to have to accept this.

My outlook changed a little for the better

When I was given an ultrasound.

There it was… from some angles, it appeared to be

Just a mass in my uterus

But from others, there was a shape and a form.

In the middle of it, a tiny beating heart.

It wasn’t just there, it was alive.

Two weeks earlier, I had wanted it to be a fluke.

Now I wanted it to be alive.

This also meant I had to get out of a place

Where I would never have a stable schedule,

Time to sit down and breathe,

And I’d always be expected to volley heavy “tubs”

Of merchandise back and forth.

I couldn’t feel proud of myself being there,

And somehow, I didn’t think that this new life

Could come into the world

And be proud of it either.

(as if a living being that was too young to have

formulated judgments and opinions  could feel that way).

I had to get out.

A voice in my head was screaming at me now.

And that is what I did.