I saw her first. I know I did. I was walking down the familiar streets of D.C. just minding my own business. Need I remind you that that business just happen to be Campaign Manager for the dark horse Democratic Candidate that won the bid for the Presidency of the United States? I could say that I was feeling good, very good. I was feeling so good in fact that when I saw her emerge from that building I had every intention of strutting right up to her and planting a big one right on her lips. Sure, she had abandoned me, sure she had been working for the enemy, sure she had shared one mind-blowing night of lovemaking with me only to leave me high and dry and reeling for weeks after, but I was a new man and I was willing to put the past behind us and move on.

At least I thought I was ready until she turned and locked her gaze on me and I almost passed out at the intensity of the emotions I felt. It was anger and resentment and love and passion and hatred and desire and longing so fast and so hard in my chest that I just had to turn away. I turned so quick and so fast that I was practically running up the street and the only coherent thought I could assemble was that maybe she hadn't seen me. I knew, of course, that she had, but I also knew that I couldn't face her and didn't know if I ever could. I could hear Toby in the background of my thoughts telling me to "BE a MAN" but how could I be the man when I was the victim?

That day on the street wasn't the first time I wanted to forgive and forget. I thought about her often and I always thought it was odd that I hadn't seen her with the Russell campaign trail for weeks. I figured she was just trying to avoid me and I didn't really have the time to track her down. After my victory, or the Santos Campaign Victory, I had gone to the Russell staff headquarters with a beer to share with Donna and Will but she wasn't there. Will told me she had gone home, that she hadn't been feeling well. I went back to my room and drank the three beers myself. I hadn't been feeling so great myself and I was pissed at her for taking time off. I was just plain pissed, and just plain pathetic.

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You know how sometimes you have something you know you have to do but you just keep putting it off? You know, like you have laundry to do, or dishes in the sink, or it's dusty in your apartment or you have to notify the father of your child that you are expecting? If you are anything like me, you know you should really do those things, but you just can't seem to find a way to get up off the couch and do them. ESPECIALLY now that you feel exhausted almost ALL the time and you are constantly scrounging around your cabinets looking for something salty to spread on something sweet or vice versa!

It has been 7 ½ months. I know that is awful but let me break it down for you: Josh and I "hooked up" or whatever the kids are calling it these days. It was the best moments of my life until I panicked in the morning and realized he was probably only after me for a job. I bolted. Three weeks later I left the campaign trail out of exhaustion and bladder control issues and ended up working the next two from home where I plunged forward in the very un-valiant effort to nominate Bob Russell. Three days into the Democratic Convention, I was "off the hook" so to speak and finally made an appointment with the doctor because I was feeling slightly off: tired, weepy and there was that minor detail of missing a period. Now here is where everything you have ever learned in any embarrassing health class, or any biology class or even any anatomy class in college when you were considering a physiology major, should kick in to tell you that pregnancy is a possibility when you have unprotected sex and have missed a period. Apparently my mind doesn't work that way. Two days later I was informed that maybe it should have been working a little harder.

And it was, of course as fate would have it, on that very day that I spotted Josh and as a sense of joy and relief and possible excitement and guilt and nausea all poured over me at once, he turned and hightailed it out of my line of vision faster then my uterus could follow. The thing that bothered me the most was that I couldn't read his face, I didn't recognize the man aside from his physical attributes. I feel like I don't know him, and so I feel like I don't know how to tell him.

That was the middle of the month and as I stated before I gave up my apartment and left the DC area within the next two weeks. NOW, don't freak out. I didn't go back to Wisconsin, I went to Maryland. That can almost not even be considered a move.

The move was necessary, you see, because I didn't really want people to see me out and about and, you know, pregnant. I got two jobs, one as a research assistant at Columbia Union College and one as a librarian for a state library. I thought that was pretty funny and often wished I could joke with Josh about being the old lady with the bun in her hair. You see, I don't hate Josh. I am angry because I threw myself at him that night and left in the morning and have never had one conversation with him about it yet, however I am well aware of the fact that it takes two to tango.

Right now the two that are tangoing are me and this small amateur soccer player that keeps attacking my tummy. I swear this little one is going for the world record of having the strongest leg muscles upon arrival.

Since I left the immediate DC area I have not had any run-ins with anyone who would feel the need to discuss my pregnancy (so I am basically saying no reporters). There have been a few senators who knew me on a professional level and probably assumed I was married and already had 3 kids. I would run into them and they would call me Debbie or Deloris or even Ginger by mistake and comment that I looked ready to explode. That usually made me feel GREAT!

As for my family they know the blessed news and are excited, I guess, although the details of the Dad and my plans always seemed to come up right when I had to get off the phone. Pity, isn't it? They seemed to be under the impression that the father of my child and I are engaged and that there will be wedding bells anytime now. I don't if "wishful thinking" even begins to describe their deliria.

Most of my associates from the White House usually didn't even have time to call their mothers much less me so I never feel like I am LYING to anyone by not telling them, I am just not making a point to seek them out and tell. In fact the only connection I do still have is the constant email relationship I've kept with Will. He and I write back and forth, pretty much every other day. He can't see me, and has never asked to, and I feel pretty safe assuming that my pregnancy can't be detected over the intranet, so his companionship keeps me going through the very difficult time with the added bonus of him remaining completely in the dark about my pregnancy (this seems to be a trend in my life).

I know I sound terrible. I know there is only one man who should be getting me through this difficult time. I just can't bring myself to go to him. As I go through the days reading about my baby's growing finger nails and developing nose I can't help but hope that the eyes are brown like the daddy's and that the hair curls…but I just can't bring myself to tell that Daddy. I think I feel like Josh doesn't deserve to know, that he never even admitted he wanted me and so why should he get to want our child? I don't know, maybe I am crazy or maybe it is just the hormones talking, but I still have a month and a half to decide what to do right?

Oh man, I don't feel so good, and what is this water pouring down my leg? Oh crap, I think my water just broke.

TBC