The story of Benjamin Pt1: My tender tinder pregnancy 

So there I was. Sitting at planned parenthood on the paper drape covered table staring at my feet. Waiting for them to come back and tell me I had a uti. Because I knew I had a uti. Google already told me. 
The nurse walks back in and confirms the issue. I’m like, “okay, cool.” (What an answer) I slipped my jacket on and awaited my medication. 

My new-ish boyfriend was at work, and luckily, we were open enough with each other that I told him what I would be up to that day. Ya know, just “girl stuff.”

Always loved planned parenthood. No insurance? No problem. No regular doctor? No problem. No idea what’s going on with your lady parts? No judgement. They’d handled all my girl stuff before.

I waited for the doctor so I could get my prescription and mosey on. She came into the room with a little white box with a long word on it. She sat across from me and gave me her shpeal. I nodded along. I was set to be back to happy camping in a week or less. I swung my purse over my shoulder and reached out for my little miracle box. 

She extended towards me, and then said,

“Oh- and don’t take this medicine if you’re pregnant. For future reference.”

I looked back at her confused. Huh? 

“You had said you were in between birth controls right now. Just know this specific medication is not pregnancy safe.”

“Okay, thanks!”

My gut did a whirl. I stepped down from the table. 

“So I’m not pregnant, right?”

“Well. I’m not sure. We didn’t test you for that today. ”

“You didn’t?…Can we?”

“Based on your last cycle it likely wouldn’t show,” We looked at each other. “Actually- don’t leave just yet. Let’s check before I send you home with this. Since you’re still here.”

All I could do was nervously laugh as she walked out of the room. What the heck was she talking about. Why would she say that. What in the what. 

I pulled out my phone and tried to distract myself from the highway of thoughts that started up. The minutes dragged on. Why are they taking so long? Why would they torture me like this? I’m not. There’s no way. Just come back and tell me everything’s good so I can go home. 

Finally a different nurse walks in. 

“Katrisha?”

“Yeah?” 

“Congratulations. Your pregnancy test came back positive.”

“What?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You know my name? My last name?”

“Yes. Let me grab the doctor to change your prescription.”

I imploded the screams that were flying about in my head. Am I in the freaking twilight zone?? What just happened.

My prescription was changed, a simple “Good luck” and I was sent on my way looking like I had just seen a ghost.

I got into my car and just sat there. 

A million thoughts were ping ponging around in my brain. I tried to gather them and organize them as best I could. I tried to shake the surrealness and grasp the fact that I was actually pregnant. That I was just told factual, life changing information. That today was a historical day in my life. Things will never ever be the same. I was literally growing a human being and didn’t know it until just minutes ago.

My reflection stared back at me on the glass. She was saying, “girl.”

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. 

Okay- so I’ve been dating a tinder match for barely 6 months, I’m waist deep in a cosmetology program I’m not even sure I like, I’m 21 years old, and I work at THE MALL. THIS IS NOT HOW MY LIFE WAS SUPPOSED TO GO. 

I called my big sister. She was my life experienced confidant, my voice of reason. She had a good sense of humor, and I usually felt okay with talking about things I shouldn’t have done. 

“What!?” Her voice came blaring through my phone.

“This wasn’t the plan!!” She mourned my  potential. 

“I know. I know.” I had no good excuse, no good explanation, no plan, no answers. 

This was totally something that would happen to me.

I ended up at the store and standing frozen in the card aisle. Because getting a card fixes everything, right? They say what we can’t sometimes. I liked cards. I liked aesthetics. Sugar coatings. 

Why aren’t there any cards that say, “sorry, you impregnated me”? 

Hm. This will have to do. A ‘no reason’ love card. Yeah. Simple; black and white. Two kids on the front holding hands. Perfect. That’s exactly what we were. Kids. 

I took the paper from the clinic, “confirmation of pregnancy” and I folded it up and put it inside the card. 

I headed to James’s job imagining all the ways he’d react. Mostly expecting the worst. But I needed him to know. Someone else had to be just as shocked and scared as me. It wasn’t fair. I couldn’t bear this to myself. I knew the quicker I told him the quicker we could believe it. 

His face looked like mine did back at the clinic. 

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