Title: Life As I Know It...
Chapter 7: ...Is Over
Disclaimer: I do not own the Gilmore Girls.
A/N: This is in first person from Lorelai's point of view. It just really works for the story.
~~~~~~~
Okay, I'm sitting in the bathroom perched on the edge of the bathtub in the middle of the day, just staring at the sink. Well, not really at the sink, but the little piece of plastic perched on the edge of the sink. That little piece of plastic has a little window filled with chemicals that's changing colors right now, and depending on what color it ends up being, my life may or may not be over. I mean, I don't have any idea what I'm gonna do if I'm actually pregnant. Should I keep it? I mean, I'm going to keep it, but should I give the baby up for adoption? But, no, cause I saw this movie about this girl that tried to find her birth mom, and it was long and hard, and she cried a lot, and I don't want that to happen to my baby. So I'm gonna keep it. But do I stay here? This is a crappy place to grow up, I know that for a fact. Maybe I'll leave. Maybe this baby is my ticket out of here. I'll get a job. Not in Hartford, of course. Away from my parents and this life. But I don't wanna leave the state. And with the money I get, I'll--
*Ding!*
My head snaps up as I remember the egg timer and the pregnancy test with a jolt. I'm kind of actually looking forward to having a baby now, but the feeling drains as I push myself up off the tub, leaving me filled with only dread. I stare down at my feet and will them to move. I concentrate on this for a while, just putting one foot in front of the other. I slowly make my way across the huge expanse of the master bathroom, and only look up as I see my feet hit the fluffy rug underneath the sink. I look in the mirror, at the wall, anywhere but the test. I spot the pregnancy test box and happily pick it up, glad for the distraction. I read it again.
"Pee on the stick" blah blah blah "Blue is negative, Pink is positive" blah blah blah "Test is only eighty-two percent accurate" blah blah bl-
"What?! 82%?!!" I yell at the empty bathroom. My voice bounces off the walls comes back at me, and I am glad once again that my parents are gone and I made the servants leave for the day. The news shocks me and I curse myself for not having read the package before I forgot it. I decide to call Chris and make him take me to the gynecologist to get a pregnancy test if this one is positive. So now there is nothing left for me to do but pick up the test and see the results. I pick up the flimsy piece of plastic and wave it around for a couple of minutes before I open my eyes and look. And... it's pink. Pink is positive. I'm pregnant. Omigod, I'm pregnant. I bet if Madonna got pregnant, it'd ruin her career.
~~~~~~~
It is now half an hour later, and I am in real clothes, as opposed to the robe I was wearing earlier. I'm sitting in the sitting room, uncomfortably, just waiting for the doorbell to ring. When it does, I jump up, grab my jacket, and land in the front seat of Chris's brand new car. Chris thinks that he's just taking me for a routine check-up. I didn't do much to sway him from that assumption.
~~~~~~~~
Another hour later, the OB-GYN finally comes back into the room with my results. She looks sort of grim, and I know the answer before she says it. Chris and I leave the doctor's office in a stiff sort of silence, and I am very grateful for the silence, however uncomfortable it may be. I get home and my parents are at the table, and I sit with them, carefully omitting details about what I did all afternoon. I am utterly nauseated, and the pate smells disgusting, and I make the mistake of telling Emily, so I am now grounded for a week. I'll wait till after the week to tell them the news. If I don't leave first.
~~~~~~~
A week later, I am again sitting uncomfortably in the sitting room, on an uncomfortable couch across from my confused and probably uncomfortable parents. I take a deep breath and launch into my speech.
"I'm pregnant."
Good speech, huh? My parents obviously don't think so, judging by the shocked look on Dad's face and my mother's half-open mouth. I nod and get up. There's nothing else to say. I walk upstairs and think of names for my daughter. I'm having a daughter, I've decided. Not a boy, it's gonna be a girl.
~~~~~~~
The next day at school I am ambushed from behind at my locker. Chris drags me into the supply closet that we made out in a few months ago.
"Are you pregnant?" The look on his face is a mixture of rage, fear, and compassion.
"Yes," I say with my head held high, "And it's yours."
"Well, yeah. I knew that. My parents want me to ask you something, but I don't know yet if I'm going to ask it."
"Okay. Whatever."
"Is that why I took you to the doctor last week?"
"Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way."
"Yeah." Chris nods. He has a contemplative look on his face, and I can tell he's thinking of something.
"What is it?"
"Is--is that our baby in there right now?" He points at my stomach. I nod. He moves closer and moves to touch my stomach. First he looks at me to see if it's okay. When I nod again, he places his hand on my stomach, and then, as the thought hits him, he lowers his head and kisses my stomach. As he comes back up I smile at him for making the effort, and then I give him a hug. He can be really really sweet at times. Somehow I think we'll make it through this.
Chapter 7: ...Is Over
Disclaimer: I do not own the Gilmore Girls.
A/N: This is in first person from Lorelai's point of view. It just really works for the story.
~~~~~~~
Okay, I'm sitting in the bathroom perched on the edge of the bathtub in the middle of the day, just staring at the sink. Well, not really at the sink, but the little piece of plastic perched on the edge of the sink. That little piece of plastic has a little window filled with chemicals that's changing colors right now, and depending on what color it ends up being, my life may or may not be over. I mean, I don't have any idea what I'm gonna do if I'm actually pregnant. Should I keep it? I mean, I'm going to keep it, but should I give the baby up for adoption? But, no, cause I saw this movie about this girl that tried to find her birth mom, and it was long and hard, and she cried a lot, and I don't want that to happen to my baby. So I'm gonna keep it. But do I stay here? This is a crappy place to grow up, I know that for a fact. Maybe I'll leave. Maybe this baby is my ticket out of here. I'll get a job. Not in Hartford, of course. Away from my parents and this life. But I don't wanna leave the state. And with the money I get, I'll--
*Ding!*
My head snaps up as I remember the egg timer and the pregnancy test with a jolt. I'm kind of actually looking forward to having a baby now, but the feeling drains as I push myself up off the tub, leaving me filled with only dread. I stare down at my feet and will them to move. I concentrate on this for a while, just putting one foot in front of the other. I slowly make my way across the huge expanse of the master bathroom, and only look up as I see my feet hit the fluffy rug underneath the sink. I look in the mirror, at the wall, anywhere but the test. I spot the pregnancy test box and happily pick it up, glad for the distraction. I read it again.
"Pee on the stick" blah blah blah "Blue is negative, Pink is positive" blah blah blah "Test is only eighty-two percent accurate" blah blah bl-
"What?! 82%?!!" I yell at the empty bathroom. My voice bounces off the walls comes back at me, and I am glad once again that my parents are gone and I made the servants leave for the day. The news shocks me and I curse myself for not having read the package before I forgot it. I decide to call Chris and make him take me to the gynecologist to get a pregnancy test if this one is positive. So now there is nothing left for me to do but pick up the test and see the results. I pick up the flimsy piece of plastic and wave it around for a couple of minutes before I open my eyes and look. And... it's pink. Pink is positive. I'm pregnant. Omigod, I'm pregnant. I bet if Madonna got pregnant, it'd ruin her career.
~~~~~~~
It is now half an hour later, and I am in real clothes, as opposed to the robe I was wearing earlier. I'm sitting in the sitting room, uncomfortably, just waiting for the doorbell to ring. When it does, I jump up, grab my jacket, and land in the front seat of Chris's brand new car. Chris thinks that he's just taking me for a routine check-up. I didn't do much to sway him from that assumption.
~~~~~~~~
Another hour later, the OB-GYN finally comes back into the room with my results. She looks sort of grim, and I know the answer before she says it. Chris and I leave the doctor's office in a stiff sort of silence, and I am very grateful for the silence, however uncomfortable it may be. I get home and my parents are at the table, and I sit with them, carefully omitting details about what I did all afternoon. I am utterly nauseated, and the pate smells disgusting, and I make the mistake of telling Emily, so I am now grounded for a week. I'll wait till after the week to tell them the news. If I don't leave first.
~~~~~~~
A week later, I am again sitting uncomfortably in the sitting room, on an uncomfortable couch across from my confused and probably uncomfortable parents. I take a deep breath and launch into my speech.
"I'm pregnant."
Good speech, huh? My parents obviously don't think so, judging by the shocked look on Dad's face and my mother's half-open mouth. I nod and get up. There's nothing else to say. I walk upstairs and think of names for my daughter. I'm having a daughter, I've decided. Not a boy, it's gonna be a girl.
~~~~~~~
The next day at school I am ambushed from behind at my locker. Chris drags me into the supply closet that we made out in a few months ago.
"Are you pregnant?" The look on his face is a mixture of rage, fear, and compassion.
"Yes," I say with my head held high, "And it's yours."
"Well, yeah. I knew that. My parents want me to ask you something, but I don't know yet if I'm going to ask it."
"Okay. Whatever."
"Is that why I took you to the doctor last week?"
"Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way."
"Yeah." Chris nods. He has a contemplative look on his face, and I can tell he's thinking of something.
"What is it?"
"Is--is that our baby in there right now?" He points at my stomach. I nod. He moves closer and moves to touch my stomach. First he looks at me to see if it's okay. When I nod again, he places his hand on my stomach, and then, as the thought hits him, he lowers his head and kisses my stomach. As he comes back up I smile at him for making the effort, and then I give him a hug. He can be really really sweet at times. Somehow I think we'll make it through this.