I’d expected to feel like a mother before I’d reached five months of pregnancy. With my broadened belly, I certainly looked the part. Yet, I hadn’t felt that special connection with the baby growing inside me. If anything, I resented it.

I visited the doctor for a regular check-up. “You’ll be happy to know that your baby is developing fine,” Doctor Prahn said. “I am a little concerned about your elevated blood pressure. Have you been experiencing added stress?”

I was a senior in college, dealing with full-time work and emotionally turbulent relationships. Of course, there was stress. “It’s nothing I’m not used to. Being pregnant is new and scary.”

“I’m going to increase the dosage of your steroids. With your preexisting asthma condition, high blood pressure puts you at an increased risk of a stroke or heart attack. I suggest taking it easy.” She turned back to the monitor. “Would you like to know the gender?”

I shook my head. Learning I might one day be helping a daughter with her makeup or taking a son to his baseball league didn’t matter if, in my heart, I hated being a mother.

“I’m still getting used to the idea of being pregnant.” I chucked. “Just a few months ago, the baby’s father and I were talking about traveling. And I was set on getting closer to my mother. Then I find out I’m going to be a mother.”

Dr. Prahn frowned.

“I put my head down in shame. “I’m not so sure I’m ready for a child. I’m still figuring out how to be a daughter.”

“Having a baby is an important milestone. It means fully being available to someone physically and emotionally. It’s a huge responsibility.” She sighed. “You’re young. If you don’t feel you’re ready, adoption is an option.”

“Adoption?” I said, pondering the idea. Because of my father’s death and my mother’s abandonment, I hadn’t been raised by my parents, and I’d always felt lost. Even when surrounded by relatives, I hadn’t felt I belonged. I didn’t want any child I brought into this world to endure that same feeling. Then again, I wasn’t sure I had what it took to make the child feel it belonged.

“It’s something to be discussed in-depth with the father. Adoption isn’t something to change your mind about once the process has begun. Other people’s hearts become invested.”

I contemplated the idea. “I could get my life back,” I said in a whisper.

∞

I was already late for work by the time I’d left the clinic. I was appalled when I arrived at the station. The trashcans outside were filled to the rim, and more trash was on the ground. Inside, a line full of impatient people stretched from the front door to the cash register.

“Where’s Stacey?” I asked Monica as I walked behind the counter.

“She had to leave early again.” Monica and I shook our heads.

An angry man entered the store and bypassed the line, grunting as he approached me.

I looked from him to the customers, all who looked at him with disdain. “Sir, the line starts back there.”

“I’ve been calling for help for ten minutes now at the pump. I’m not waiting any longer.”

I peeped onto Monica’s screen and saw the alert button lit up. “I’m sorry, sir. What’s the problem?”

“I requested a car wash with my gas, and the damn code never printed out.”

“If you give me a second, I’ll print one out for you,” I said, waiting on the computer to accept my sign in.

The man sucked his teeth and looked at the crowd behind him. “From the looks of it, a second means an hour here.” He stood there, letting out heavy sighs as he directed a contemptuous stare my way.

Ready to get him out of my sight, I was glad to get logged in. I printed him a code and handed it to him. He snatched it from my hand, mumbled something that raised the eyebrows of some customers in the front of Monica’s line, and charged out of the store.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour, and after hearing countless, “Y’all need more help,” we got the line down. By then, inside of the store looked just as bad as its outside.

“Monica, I’ll take care of the outside if you clean up in here.”

She shook her head. “You don’t need to be going out there in your condition.”

I was accustomed to working hard. Being pregnant wasn’t going to change that. “I’ll be fine.”

She shook her head. “I’ll handle the outside.”

My face lit up at her kindness. I loved Monica’s easygoing disposition and her thoughtfulness of others. She was like the mother I wished mine would be.

While Monica was outside, I restocked merchandise and cleaned the slushy machines. When I looked at the clock, it was already six-thirty, and I still needed to straighten up the backroom before Monica’s shift ended. I grabbed the dirty coffee pots and headed to the back.

“Slow down!” Monica said.

My body jolted at the sound of her voice. “No time to slow down. The backroom is a mess.”

“Again, you need to take it easy. I’ll stay a little longer to help.”

I smiled. It wouldn’t be fair to let Monica clean the backroom after cleaning outside. “It won’t take me long. I’ll be done in no time if you can take care of customers and restocked cigarettes.”

I rearranged excess merchandise in the backroom, organized the cleaning supplies, and started sweeping. In an instant, I felt the world around me spin. I walked toward the sink, but before I could grab onto it for support, I fell to the floor.

∞

I woke up to a divine clamped onto my finger and a mask on my face. My head throbbed. I squeezed my eyelids together to block out the bright light in my face. I wasn’t at the gas station. Neither was I at the clinic with Dr. Prahn.

“Doctor, she’s regaining consciousness.”

Squinting my eyes, I could see a woman in green scrubs and a doctor hovering over me.

“Easy, easy,” said the doctor, pushing me back onto the bed. “I just want you to rest for a while.”

I put my arm over my eyes.

“Would you dim the lights, Nurse Shannon.” The doctor removed the oxygen mask from my mouth.

“What happened?” I asked, still squinting as if to relieve the burn in my eyes. “How long have I been here?”

“You fainted. I’m Dr. Reggie. Could you tell me your name?”

“Lisa Curry.” I got up and immediately felt my head spin. “Ouch!”

“Please lay back down, Ms. Curry. You have high blood pressure, which caused you to faint. You’ll feel lightheaded for a while.”

I nodded.

“We ran some tests to ensure your baby is okay.”

My hand instinctively glided onto my belly as if to make sure my baby was still there.

“High blood pressure means you’re more likely to suffer a stroke, heart attack, or other complication. It can be a serious risk to both you and your baby, as the embryo may not get the nutrients it needs.”

“What are you saying, doctor?”

“We can mitigate some risks by performing a cesarean tonight.”

I looked from the doctor to the nurse to see if this was some sick joke. A look of worry overshadowed both their faces.

“The baby would be put in an incubator to continue developing,” Dr. Reggie continued.

“You mean, struggle to survive in an incubator.” I lifted my body a little and felt sweat drip down my face. “I’m only five months. Are there any other options?”

“None that completely frees you and your baby from risk.”

I nodded, wanting to know more.

The doctor sighed. “Bed rest is an alternative. You wouldn’t be able to work. You’d have to eat a good diet absent of sodium, sugars, deli meats—we’d provide you with a list of what you can and can’t eat—and absolutely no stress.”

I pressed my lips together. Not working would be tough, but it sounded better than having the baby now. “That sounds bests.”

The doctor nodded. “I have to emphasize the importance of no stress. Your body can’t handle another asthma attack of this magnitude. You were lucky. Things could have been a lot worst.”

To protect my life, I could have them remove my baby, now, premature, and then have to leave it in an incubator for several weeks, hoping it would survive. Or I could carry the baby full term, risking both our lives if something were to go wrong. Regardless, my baby’s life was at risk. The only person I’d definitely be saving is myself by having this child early. I thought that doing so just to ensure my wellbeing would be selfish. My baby and I were strongest as one. No incubator could do for my child what my body could.

To save my baby, I was willing to put my life on the line, because that’s what real mothers did.