32. Lark

Chapter thirty-two

Lark

You are my penguin

— Love DM

I love you more than I love spaghetti. And I love spaghetti a lot

— Love DM

You’re just like bacon. You make everything better.

— Love DM

Being normal is overrated. I’d rather be crazy over you.

— Love DM

I’ve fallen for you and I don’t want to get up.

— Love DM

The collection of sticky notes, each with a silly, sweet message from Dan, grows each day as I discover them around my apartment. I don’t know when he found the time to hide them, but each one has made me smile, despite still feeling unwell.

We’ve talked every day since he left on Sunday, and so far, it sounds like spring training is going well. He and Kai are in a good rhythm, and Dan sounds excited about what’s to come.

I wish I was there.

Hopefully today, my doctor can explain why I’ve felt so run-down and nauseous all the time. In the back of my mind, one explanation keeps popping up, but I don’t — can’t — let myself dwell on that possibility.

When my phone rings, I reach for it, eager for the distraction. Anything to fill the next hour before I leave for my appointment. But that eagerness fades when I see who it is.

“Hello, Mother.”

“Lark, are you coming for dinner this weekend?”

No hi? How are you? I miss you? Nah, of course not. That would imply caring and emotions my parents just don’t seem to have.

I swallow against a wave of nausea and lean against my kitchen counter. “I’m not sure. I was meant to be in Arizona already, but I needed to stay back for a doctor’s appointment.”

There’s a pause before she speaks, and to my shock, she actually sounds mildly concerned. “Is everything alright?”

My mind battles with my heart. A small part of me wants to tell her, about Dan, about feeling sick, and about the scary possibility the doctor is going to tell me something life-changing. But I don’t have that sort of relationship with her, and quite honestly, I don’t trust that she’ll respond with compassion.

“Just need to get some stuff checked out,” I say lightly, pushing off from the counter. “Actually, I need to get going soon. I’ll let you know if I’m in town for dinner. Was there anything else?”

Another pause, this one longer than the last. “No, I suppose not. I hope your appointment goes well.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I say, feeling kind of uncomfortable with this ever so slightly softer side of my mother. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Goodbye, Lark.”

We hang up and I stare at my phone for a second, processing what just happened. She actually showed some sort of something emotional toward me. Unexpected, yes, and somewhat touching.

Shaking my head, I move into my bathroom to finish getting ready. When I pull open a drawer to take out a hair elastic, I find another sticky note.

There’s nothing better than waking up with you in my arms.

— Love DM

I love that he’s made it so he’s here with me, even when he’s so far away. I go to pick up my phone and text him when another wave of nausea hits, this one stronger. Thank God, I’m already in the bathroom because I’m bent over the toilet retching seconds later.

When it finally subsides, I’m panting on the bathroom floor, feeling even more miserable. This is awful, whatever it is.

I drag myself up, brush my teeth, and braid my hair. Time to get some answers. Grabbing my water bottle, keys, purse, and a package of crackers, I lock up and head to my car.

At the doctor’s office, they sign me in, then a nurse takes me to the back and hands me a small cup.

“We’re going to get a quick urine sample and then Dr. Rhodes will be in soon.” She gives me a reassuring smile, but as I stare at that plastic container, I feel anything but reassured.

She directs me to the bathroom, and I move on autopilot. There’s no more denying my fear. Nausea and exhaustion that won’t go away? There’s one very real possibility for what’s causing it.

And a few minutes later, Dr. Rhodes confirms it.

“Lark, you’re pregnant.”

An hour later, I’m back home, staring at the pamphlets the doctor gave me after dropping the bomb on me that I’m pregnant.

Somehow, Dan and I beat all the odds. Despite my birth control and the condoms we used, something got through, and now there’s a baby growing inside of me.

Our baby.

Dr. Rhodes gave me some information on early pregnancy, a prescription for some anti-nausea medication, and then, I guess my shock — and lack of immediate joy over the news — was apparent because she also gave me some brochures on other options.

Abortion and adoption.

I’ve never been opposed to either. I firmly believe every woman has the right to choose what is the best decision for them and their body. I also never expected to be in a position where I would be considering either one.

But Dan made it clear, he doesn’t want kids right now. He needs to focus on baseball, on his career, and on securing a good contract after this season. Dr. Rhodes estimated my due date to be near the end of September but said we could confirm with an ultrasound at my next appointment. I’m approximately six weeks along, assuming this little bean was conceived that first time when the condom slipped, which makes the most sense .

Who am I kidding, none of this makes sense. The odds are a zillion to one, and yet, here I am, staring at pamphlets on babies while one’s inside of me right this very second.

A little spark of life that defied the odds. A life that is a perfect blend of me and the man I love.

My hands go to my stomach, and a smile creeps across my face for the first time since finding Dan’s latest love note this morning. And I know, without a doubt, I’m keeping this baby.

Even if Dan decides he can’t be involved, that he has to put his career first, I don’t care. I won’t force him to give up baseball. But I also won’t let anyone force me to give up this baby.

Picking up my phone, I go to call him but stop myself. This isn’t the kind of news I can drop on him over the phone. I actually don’t even know how to start the conversation.

Hey, remember the first time you had sex with me, when you lost your virginity? Guess what, your super sperm were just waiting for the chance to create new life.

Yeah, that’ll go over well.

As I stare down at my phone, a notification pops up. An email about the research internship at the university.

This time when my stomach twists, it’s not only from pregnancy hormones. My breath is shaky as I click to open the email.

We are pleased to offer you placement in our fall internship program…

I can’t even continue reading. Tears start to fall from my eyes, landing on my phone screen, blurring the words in front of me. I wipe them off the phone and dash them away from my face, moving to lie down on my side. One hand immediately goes to my stomach. To the life growing there. To the child who has unknowingly turned everything in my world upside down.

I don’t know what this means for me, for Dan, or for us.

But I do know, whatever happens, this baby will be loved.

Unconditionally.

Wholly.

Without question, or doubt, or expectation.