This Is Me and You Until We've Got Nothing Left

"Look at that," the technician said softly, her eyes glued to the ultrasound screen, "That is a baby."

My stomach dropped into my stomach. I felt like throwing up again.

"Can you tell how far along I am?" I asked with my voice shaking.

"8 to 9 weeks." She answered. "Congratulations, Naomi. Would you like a copy of your ultrasound?"

My mouth spoke before I could think; "Yes."

The technician smiled at me and then cleaned my belly. I sat up, shutting my eyes, thinking as I heard the printer going. The technician touched my shoulder gently and then handed me the warm, thin photo sheet.

"Again, congratulations." She smiled happily at me.

I didn't look at the picture, "Thank you."

She escorted me out of the examination room and then gave me a sheet of tips to keep my nausea away. She also gave me some vitamins to jump start before I went to see my gynecologist. I was quite numb to her words, but I heard them all, letting them sink into my head.

I went into the lobby, where I saw Pete at the front desk talking to a nurse. I heard him ask about me and I hurried over to him, touching his arm, "Pete, I'm right here."

He blinked and then stepped back from the reception desk, "What're you doing out here? Aren't you suppose to see a doctor?"

"I saw him and I'm fine. Lets go." My voice and tone surprised myself; I spoke harshly.

Pete furrowed his brow, but obeyed my small order. He followed my lead out of the hospital and to the parking lot. I saw my car and turned to Pete, "You drive."

"I was." He quipped quickly. "What did the doctor say? Are you okay?"

I paused my steps in the empty parking space next to my car. I turned around and looked at him, my mouth, once more, beat my brain, "I'm pregnant."

Pete stopped and just looked at me. He was trying to see if I was kidding, and within a second of staring, his jaw slacked. "Oh...fuck, please tell me you're kidding."

I shook my head and handed him the ultrasound photo, "I wish I was kidding."

Pete took it from me and stared at it. The sun was going down, leaving a orange and red tint across the horizon; he squinted at the photo, lifting it up towards the light. "Oh fuck." He muttered again. "When? We use condoms--we haven't had sex without a rubber since when?"

"8 weeks ago." I told him. "I gather that it was the night you came home from Japan. In the shower, you didn't pull out and we weren't thinking."

Pete blow a big breath out and the ran a free hand through his hair, "Shit."

"I really don't know if I can keep it. And I'm serious, Pete. I just signed a 12 month contract with Victoria's Secret; I've got more than a year left of college before I get my degree, I've got to take care of you, and help out with Abbey. I can't have a baby."

"Yeah, yeah," he shook his head, "But, remember last time? Are you sure?"

I didn't answer him. "Unlock the car."

Pete gave me an incredulous look, but didn't question or say anything else. He unlocked the car and we both got in; Pete was quiet still, his hands held the ultrasound photo and his eyes were glued to it. He used one hand to cup his mouth, intently staring at the photo.

I kept my eyes on him, thinking and then sitting back, "What're we gonna do? Just fuckin' do the same thing we did 3 years ago?"

Pete looked at me, "You're pissed at me."

"No, I'm pissed at the timing. You and I have the worst fucking timing. Ever."

"You want the baby?"

"If I was out of college, had a steady job and if I was married. Yes, I would want a baby, but now is damn ridiculous."

"This is my fault." He mumbled and then looked back at the photo.

"It was the heat of the moment...I didn't stop you, so this is both of our fault."

He handed me the photo, "Like I said before, I'll support whatever you want."

"Do you want this baby?" It was a curious question.

He looked at me, silently, for a minute. "No." He answered, "Not now. I'm going through so much shit."

Despite the fact that we both thought it was bad timing, his words stung. It felt like a big stab to the back; I wasn't sure why I felt that way, but I did. I looked down at the photo now; the space in the car was dim, but I could see the picture clearly.

Our baby looked like a kidney bean; small, oblong, not really anything at all. Something tinge in my chest and I suddenly felt like crying; emotion hit me hard. I sniffed and stared, wondering what to do.

"Why're you crying?" Pete asked.

I looked up at him; my head warped, "I think I want the baby."

His jaw dropped, "But you just said--"

"I know what I said," I snapped, "But it doesn't mean I can't have a second thought. Look at this...this baby--our baby! They're...so tiny."

Pete sighed, "So, you're keeping it?"

I shrugged, my eyes going back to the picture, "I'll talk to Mia first...then my parents."

"Naomi, I don't think this is such a good idea." He said quickly, "We can't have a baby."

"It's my body, not yours." I muttered without skipping a beat. "But I won't do it alone if I choose to have them; I expect you to be there 100% like you were 3 years ago."

"I can't promise you anything." He muttered sharply.

Again, I looked at him, frowning. His words cut deep; "You're really going to say that to me, after all I've done for you?"

His head straightened forward, "I told you, I'm going through some shit. I don't know if I can do it."

I chose not to reply, "Take me to my parents'."

"I'm being truthful, Navy." He let out a soft grunt.

"I know you are. Take me home so I can tell them the wonderful news." I spat bitterly.

He didn't retort; he started the car and began to drive out of the parking lot. I shuffled the papers, the small package of vitamins and the ultrasound photo in my lap. My head was beginning to split with all the possibilities that were weighing on me.

Oh, yeah, this is definitely what I needed.


I had my eyes on the floor, staring at my dad's brown, white painted stained work boots as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. The entire room was silent after I had said those dreaded words; "I'm pregnant." Everyone had shut up.

Amy had taken the ultrasound from me and was looking it over. My dad had sighed multiple times in a matter of 5 minutes; Pete and I just sat like a couple of dummies, waiting for my dad to chew us out. My ears buzzed from the silence, I had to pull at my earlobe several times to get rid of it.

"Well, this...this is a surprise," Amy spoke first, smiling.

I had looked up at her, "Yeah."

"What the hell were you guys thinking?" My dad hissed next. "I expected better from the both of you! You're only 21 years old, Naomi."

I felt my chest growing tight, "I didn't plan this, dad! It just happened, okay? I'm dealing with it, I-I'm not asking for anything, except some advice, an-an opinion or an option. That's all."

Amy looked at my dad with tucked lips and then at me; her eyes sparkled, "I think that you should keep your baby."

My eyes widened just a bit at her words, "You don't really want to abort your baby, do you?"

"She can give the baby up for adoption." My dad interjected.

"I would never, ever do that," I told him, "I couldn't live with myself knowing my baby was out there being raised by someone else with the off chance they were in a worst situation than Pete and I could give them."

Pete looked flushed, scared. He didn't say a word.

"Naomi, you're just a kid," my dad went on, "You don't know what you're doing."

"If I didn't, why would you let me take care of Abbey?" I quipped back.

"Abbey isn't with you 24/7!" He snapped. "Babies are hard work, you aren't ready for all that. Besides, don't you have a job now? And what about school?"

"I just found out I was pregnant less than an hour ago," I muttered, "I'm weighing my damn options!"

The room once again engulfed in complete silence. My dad shook his head and stood, "I need a beer."

He left the room, and then Amy scooted into his spot, handing me the photo; "Naomi, just sleep on it. You know, if you do decide to have your baby that we'll be right here for you."

"Yeah, thank you. We're gonna go now...tell Abbey that I'm fine and we can have a slumber party tomorrow."

Amy stood with us and hugged me, "Don't stress, honey, it'll all work out, I promise you."

I hugged her back, "Thanks, Amy."

She kissed my cheek and then followed us out of living room and to the door. We left the house and got into the car, not speaking. Pete drove off, his hands on the wheel; "Are you hungry?"

"Yeah." I mumbled.

"How's your nausea?"

"I actually feel better."

Pete hummed softly; "Where do you wanna eat?"

"I don't care, you pick."

He continued to drive in silence; he had picked a small diner to eat at. We went inside, getting a booth in the back, and took a seat; sitting completely in awkward silence. He let out a small sigh, "I don't want our lives to strain and be like this."

"Awkward?"

"Yeah."

"I don't even know why it's awkward."

He reached across the table and took a hold of my wrist, "I'm sorry for the way I reacted--"

"Don't apologize, Peter, I understand. Plus, I don't wanna talk about it anymore."

His hand now held mine, "Alright then, what do you wanna eat?"

I smiled faintly at him, "Something worthy of vomiting up."

We shared a laugh, "Good choice."