The Right Kind of Wrong by Chauntria Taylor

Author:Chauntria Taylor [Taylor, Chauntria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781502756893
Amazon: 1502756897
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2014-10-07T04:00:00+00:00

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It seemed like the moment I found out I was pregnant, the symptoms began to flood into my body.

“Well, your test was positive. You’re about fourteen weeks pregnant,” Dr. Swayze told me the previous day. I was served a heaping helping of shock and slapped with the most intense fatigue of my life. My breasts were suddenly sore, and all I wanted to do was fall asleep…in her office! That was yesterday.

Tonight, I was nauseous, and the smell of certain foods made me sick. Not only did the smell of breakfast make me sick, but Demi cooked salmon for dinner. I damn near threw up all over his plate.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked. I watched him cut a piece of salmon with his fork, the signature white sauce swimming on the plate and mixing with the garlic juice from the spinach. It looked disgusting…the word “vomiticious” came to mind…if that even was a word.

“I don’t know. I think I’m coming down with something,” I lied, scooting to the other side of the couch. He looked at me a little strange, but let it go.

“Do you need me to get you some medicine?” he asked me.

“No, I think I’ll be alright,” I told him and tried to low-key cover my nose. I might as well tell him…I thought to myself, but was worried about his response. What would I do if he got mad or told me to get rid of the baby?

But no, Demi wouldn’t say something like that to me. It might even make him happy. He wants a son so bad. And even it was a girl, I’m sure he would be pleased. But how to tell him?

And then, the smell got to me and I almost didn’t make it to the bathroom.

“Kennedy!” Demi called after me, but all I cared about was getting to the toilet bowl and fast. I threw up everything that I’d managed to eat that day, which was only breakfast and a can of Campbell’s Chicken and Stars. I threw up until my throat and back were sore, and until there was nothing left in my stomach. And when I was done, Demi was right there with a towel in hand to give to me.

“Baby you cool? What’s all that?” he asked. I put the toilet lid down, flushed, and took the towel from him. I wiped my mouth and then bent over the sink to rinse my mouth out. “You good? Or do I need to take you to the ER?”

“I’ll be fine,” I told him. I carefully got down on the floor to find my mouthwash under the sink.

“You don’t seem fine…You’re not pregnant are you?” he asked with a laugh. He meant it as a joke because, as far as he knew, any egg my body might even think of dropping had maximum security around it with no chance of conception. But when I didn’t laugh back, he knew.

“Kennedy?”

“Hmm?” I asked shyly looking up at him.

“Baby, are you pregnant?”

I didn’t answer right away, but I really didn’t have to.

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