This Love Will Be Our Downfall

I spins holding your ankle was never fun as of late. I would spin and spin, then I would just get sick to my stomach. I was spinning and then I had to stop. I was gonna make myself sick.

“Eurotrash you okay?” Patrick said looking at me as I was skating. I shouldn’t even be skating. “You’ve been getting sick the past three weeks with spinning, your back is killing you, and you want to eat everything in sight. You never want to eat.” I just skated to the where he was by the boards and rested my head on them. “Maybe you need a break you’ve been wearing yourself out like crazy. You need a break.” He rubbed back. “This isn’t me being perv, but your rack grew.” Wow random much, Patrick?

I’m glad my boyfriend was medically oblivious to everything.

I was pregnant, and I didn’t have the balls to tell him. Who wouldn’t be afraid to tell him? You’ve been dating for a month and a half. There was no way in hell that a bomb like “Patrick I’m pregnant.” would be a good blow to a relationship with him. I knew if I was gonna be a blow to us no matter when I told him, but for right now it was my secret that I was pregnant. It happened, because Patrick and I got carried away that one night my best friend left Chicago.

Things were gonna get messy really quick, when my figure couldn’t hide a few pounds of weight gain and the slightest bump I was in deep shit. I already saw the few pounds roll in and my bra being too small. I didn’t have time for this shit, and either did Patrick. Patrick was getting back into hockey mode, and the pre-season was upon him. I was getting ready for one of the biggest ice skating competitions, that I was for sure gonna miss, because a few camel spins and I was done. I also was expected to do quads. I wasn't gonna eat ice and possibly hurt that thing growing in there. I wasn’t gonna do that. I may have not wanted this, but I couldn’t go on acting like this wasn’t happening. That wasn’t healthy for anyone.

I have been taking care of myself and doing everything in secret. I was taking vitamins I disguised as headache medicine. I schedule doctor appointments, when I knew Patrick was gonna be out of town or at practice. I was gonna make sure whatever was in there wasn’t gonna get hurt. It was my responsibility to make sure they come out okay.

“I know you aren’t being perverted.” I said looking at him.

“Something is bothering you what is it?” he asked me.

“Nothing is bothering me. I’m just sick of being sick.” I said lying through my teeth.

“You know one thing you aren’t good at?” Patrick said looking at me.

“What is that?” I asked him.

“Lying.”

I looked him, and I wanted to tell him the truth. I wanted to nothing more than to just sob uncontrollably, crawl up in a ball, him hold me, and tell me everything is gonna be okay. However, nothing was going to be okay. I had to get out of some fantasy world where this was gonna be okay to him.

“What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

“Patrick I can’t tell you right now. I have to get my head on straight.” I said taking a deep breath only to feel sick. I dashed off the ice and ran to the garbage.

“You’ve been puking for like two weeks now. GO TO DOCTOR!” Patrick said.

“Stomach bug.” I lied.

“Stomach bugs don’t last two weeks.” Patrick said. “And it isn’t alcohol. You swore that off like three weeks ago.”

I feared of what damage I did to that baby with my constant drinking with Patrick. I wasn’t an alcoholic, but I could drink like one. Once I found out I stopped. My reasoning was one of us had to be sober. Then when I started to get sick it made my reasoning even better.

“Let me take you back to your condo.” Patrick said. I just nodded my head, and took him up on the offer. When I got back to my condo I took a quick shower to try and feel better, but in reality it only made me sicker. I got out of the shower and walked to my closet. I put on my tank top, and then I saw it. I saw that fat that was just building up. I shook it off as best I could, but the blow to me was when I went to go but on my shorts they just dug into skin. I tried to button them, and they wouldn’t/couldn’t button. That is when all hell broke loose and I started to sob my eyes out. I wanted to tell someone. I was the only one who knew. I was the only one that could know without something bad happening. Then I heard my phone ringing. I picked it up.

“Hallo?” I said.
(Hello)

“Hallo liebling.” I heard my mother say.
(Hello darling)

“Not now mother.” I said.

“What is wrong?” my mom said in her thick Polish accent.

“Not now.” I was so short with her.

“How is ice skating going?” My mom asked me.

“Nicht gut! VOLL SCHLECT!” I said starting to sob.
(Not good! VERY BAD!)

“Oh Gott. What did you do Elizabeth? You can land quads how can you be bad?”
(Oh god.)

“Mutter Ich bin schwanger!” I sobbed. “Es tut mir leid. Ich weiß nicht ich machen soll!”
(Mutter I am pregnant. I am sorry. I don’t know what to do.)

“Weg damit!” She yelled.
(Get rid of it!)

“Nein! I would never so such a thing!” I yelled.

“You have a figure skating career ahead of you! You will not ruin something this family invested so much in!” She yelled at me.

“Killing a baby isn’t right to do! What kind of Catholic are you?!”

“Oh please what kind of Catholic are you! If you were a good one you wouldn’t be pregnant with probably some fuck up's baby! I always told you should have stayed with Aron, but you didn’t listen to me. He understood what ice skating was to you.”

“Oh please if you really want to go on about how good of Catholic I am you have room to talk! At least I know what I did was wrong.”

“Wrong? Elizabeth this is life ruining for you. What do you know about babies? What do know about even cooking? You spend your whole life living without a damn care in the world. You grew up with money, a nice home, everything you ever wanted. You will never be able to give that baby what it needs.” my mom said. “You don’t even have a job!” Mom was right, but I wasn’t gonna get rid of it. That wasn’t a right thing to do ever.

“I won’t do that. I won’t make it go away.” I said through my tears.

“I’ll cut you off if you keep that baby. I am serious.” my mom said sternly.

“CUT ME OFF I DON’T FUCKING CARE!” I screamed.

“That baby’s father is probably the biggest dead beat ever.” She said. Oh no one picks on Patrick on my watch.

“Their father is good person! He maybe nothing like dad, but Patrick is a good person.” I yelled.

“AN IRISHMAN?” My mom wasn’t a fan of the Irish.

“An American!”

“Oh god look what happens we move to Poland and you start dating Americans.” My mother spat back.

“Isn’t just some stupid American. He isn’t like me at all, but I don’t know mom it works!” I yelled at her.

“Oh god you went mush mush! Elizabeth Anka what are we gonna do with you? You should have moved to Poland when you had the chance.”

“I love Chicago too much to move to Warsaw.” I said.

“You and that damn city.” my mom said. “Tell me about this Patrick person.”

“Why? It isn’t like you care.” I said kind of rude.

“I want to know what the hell American I’m gonna see when I go visit you.”

“I’m American?” I was confused.

“You are Polish-American sweetheart.”

“Same thing.” I said to her.

“Nie, but that isn’t the point. What is about this Patrick person.” She said trying to sound interested.

“His name is Patrick Kane and well I don’t know what you want me to say. He treats me like gold and he likes me, because well I’m different. I love him, but I won’t say it to him.” I said looking to ground while I was talking.

“Oh god.” my mom said in disgust. “What does he do for a living?” typical question of my mother.

“He plays hockey.”

“Oh god a hockey player who is trying to relive the glory days. What an amazing father for a baby.”

“He plays for the Blackhawks...” I said.

“OH REALLY!” my mom said sounding interested.

“Yeah...”

“How did you meet him?”

“Katey?” I said confused.

“I don’t even want to know.”

“Yeah best you don’t.” I said thinking about only a month ago. My two minutes of civil talking ended when my mom brought up how Patrick would want me to get rid of a baby he was gonna deem a huge mistake. I hung up and started to cry again. I laid in my bed and just put my hand on my stomach.

“I won’t get rid of you. No matter what my mother says, no matter how your father even reacts, no matter what happens you are staying in there.” I said through my tears and holding onto my stomach. I'm gonna cry for hours...

Babies aren’t mistakes, and I’d be damned if anyone called this one a mistake.