Chapter 3

That evening when I returned home, I went straight to my room. I flopped down on my bed with a sigh. I lay there, just starring intently at the ceiling overhead. I knew that I needed to pick up the phone and call Doctor Peterson, but I knew that the moment I did, I would be forced to know the real truth. Putting that thought aside, I mustered up the courage. I pulled open the top drawer of my nightstand and retrieved my address book. I had been planning for this moment ever since I suspected I was pregnant; I didn't want my parents suspecting anything just in case. I reached for the receiver that lay neatly in its place on the nightstand next to my bed. I leafed through the address book and finding the number, I dialed.

Twenty minutes later, I pulled into the hospital parking lot and cut the engine. I had told my parents that I was going out to eat with some friends and that I would be back later. Of course, that wasn't true. I slowly stepped out of the car and walked slowly towards the corridor of the hospital.

"May I help you?" the receptionist at the front desk asked.

"I'm here to see Doctor Peterson."

"Okay, right this way," she said, leading me to an exam room. I entered and took a seat in a chair against the wall.

"Doctor Peterson will be with you in a moment," she said. I nodded and she gave me a small smile as she left the room. I glanced around the tiny, sterile examination room. Everything was in its place, neatly positioned in little glass jars or mounted on the wall. A poster of the development stages of a baby at different times during the pregnancy caught my eye; once again a reminder of the reality of the situation. I heard a faint knock on the door as Doctor Peterson walked into the room, a chart closely held to her chest. She was not very old, maybe thirty at the most and was very pretty. She had dark brown hair about shoulder length that ran along her long, thin face. She slid out a swivel stool and sat down.

"I think I'm pregnant." My throat felt dry.

"If you lie down on the table, I'll examine you." I lay back on the exam table, the paper crunched underneath me as I moved.

"Yes, there's no doubt about it. I would say you're between two to three months pregnant," she said, after examining me.

She reached toward the wall and retrieved what looked to me like an ultrasound machine. This isn't happening. I slowly lifted my shirt revealing my toned stomach.

"This may be a little cool," Doctor Peterson said as she applied the gel. She turned on the ultrasound machine, lifting the transducer to my stomach. A pulsating noise was heard loudly throughout the room as she spread the gel around.

"Do you hear that? That's the baby's heartbeat." Doctor Peterson said. Everything was a blur as I tried to block out what was going on. I kept telling myself that it was all a dream and that I would wake up and everything would be the way it used to be. I heard the faint sound of my baby's heartbeat again.

Doctor Peterson told me about the health concerns and precautions that I would need to take throughout the course of the pregnancy.

"I want you to take these." She handed me a packet of prenatal vitamins, along with a packet of brochures to read.

"Thank you." I said. I wanted nothing more but to go home.

"You're welcome," Doctor Peterson said, as she walked out of the room.

My hands were sweaty as I gripped the steering wheel. The thought of having to tell my parents horrified me. I focused my eyes on the road and turned up the car stereo, hoping that would drown away my worries. The song that blasted through the speakers happened to one of my favorites. I sang at the top of my lungs, tapping along with the beat. I didn't even realize where I was as I pulled into the driveway.

"Mary, don't forget you have basketball practice after school tomorrow," my mother said as I walked through the front door. I had started on Varsity as a freshman and now I was the starting senior captain for my high school girls' basketball team.

"Okay. Thanks, Mom."

"How was dinner with your friends?"

"It was great, Mom. Look, I really have a lot of homework to do, so I think that I'm going to get started on it now." I quickly ran upstairs. I flopped down on my bed and sighed. At that moment, homework was the furthest thing from my mind; instead, I needed to figure out a way to tell Coach Cleary that I could no longer be on the team.