Christmas morning I woke up feeling very ill. I had been feeling ill for a few days and had decided it was time I make a doctor’s appointment. While I brushed my teeth, I realized my period was late. I rushed to the kitchen to grab my phone. When I looked at my app I realized that I was one week late. I anxiously headed back to the bathroom and took a pregnancy test.
As I waited for the answer a sense of trepidation rushed through my body. If it turned out that I was pregnant, I was unsure as to whom the baby would belong to—looking through my calendar, I realized that I had sex with both my lover, Derrick, and my husband, Robert, around the same time. The timeline meant that either one could have impregnated me. When I looked at the test, it said “Positive” and I was devastated.
This was the moment I had waited for, for months. My husband and I had been trying so hard to have a baby and I had been fully committed to the idea. Now that it finally happened, I wasn’t even sure if it was my husband’s. After everything that had occurred in the past few weeks, I could not bear the thought of telling my husband that the baby might not even be his. When I realized that it may very well be Derrick’s, I panicked even more. While he too wanted a baby, I knew it was a preposterous idea to leave my husband and raise a baby with a man who was more like a grandfather than a father.
As all the thoughts crossed through my head, tears began to flood my eyes. The realization of my stupidity hit and I began to cry out loud. Everything I had dreamed about and wanted was twisted by my affair. I had made a fiasco of my life and was now paying for it with my pain.
I grabbed the pregnancy test and stuffed it in my bra. I wiped my tears away and went to the bedroom and put my jogging suit on. I told my husband I would be going for a run and that I would make him breakfast when I got back. He grabbed me and kissed me goodbye. He smiled and told me that he loved me. I turned quickly, as I did not want him to see me tear up. I had caused him enough harm. I could not cause any more.
When I got outside, I ran to the dumpster nearby and tossed the test in. Millions of thoughts crossed my mind. I realized that I could have a paternity test. It would be the end all to my troubles. I would have to get a DNA sample from both men while they were sleeping. Since they were both heavy sleepers, I knew the task would be easy. And then it hit me. What would I say if they woke up? And worse, what if it was Derrick’s? We had talked about children a long time ago, and although he said he wouldn’t mind children, in that moment I knew I didn’t want it to be his. The odds circled my head over and over. My husband and I had been trying for months and months with no result. And now that I had had unprotected sex with Derrick, I was pregnant. I wasn’t sure if it was a coincidence or if it was luck. My heart was broken. I was pregnant and I didn’t want to be.