Anything but Normal - Melody Carlson [37]
Could that be what was happening to her? Was it possible that her body was taking care of this problem itself? She had read that one in eight pregnancies miscarried in the first trimester—and she had hoped that she would be that lucky one. She was still in her first trimester and would be for at least one more month.
If Sophie was still on speaking terms with God, she might’ve asked for his help in this. But, on second thought, God probably wasn’t inclined to listen to prayers from pregnant teenage girls who had broken their vows and were now desperately begging him to straighten things out. Or worse yet, who were hoping that a human life might end simply for convenience’s sake. No, that didn’t make much sense. As far as she knew, God didn’t work like that. But perhaps her own body would help her out of this mess. Because one thing she knew for sure, she was totally stressed. As weird as it seemed, maybe stress would be her new best friend.
Sophie felt a tiny ray of hope as she got back into bed. Who knew that stress could actually be good for something?
Although Sophie’s stress level felt higher than ever, sometimes so much so that she worried she was about to have a nervous breakdown, the next few weeks passed without the slightest sign of a miscarriage.
“So what are you kids doing for Halloween this year?” Dad asked her one night when her family of three actually sat down to eat a take-out pizza together.
“Oh, I thought I’d dress up like a pumpkin and go trick-or-treating,” she said sarcastically. “I’m like almost eighteen, Dad.”
“You keep pigging out on that pizza, and all you’ll need is to borrow my orange T-shirt to pass yourself off as the Great Pumpkin,” her dad teased.
She set down the piece and frowned. “Thanks a lot.”
“Lighten up, Bud,” her mom warned him. “Your waistline isn’t anything to brag about.”
“You making fun of my little old beer belly?” He winked at Mom. “And here I thought you liked it.”
“I’m just saying . . . The truth is, I think we could all use to take off a few pounds,” she said. “Maybe we should make a goal to cut back before the holidays hit and we all overdo it.”
“And maybe I should sign us all up for one of those reality shows,” he shot back at her. “You know, like The Biggest Loser. Only we could do one for families.”
“Count me out.” Sophie pushed back her chair and stood. “Aw, come on,” Dad said. “I was just kidding about the pumpkin thing. Finish your pizza, honey.”
“I’m full.”
“See what you did, Bud?” Mom shook her finger at him.
“I didn’t mean anything by—”
“Seriously.” Sophie faked a smile in hopes that her parents wouldn’t get into some big stupid fight over her now. “I am full.”
She went upstairs to her room, shut the door, went over to the mirror, and pulled up her shirt to stare at her rounded tummy. Her favorite jeans were too tight now, and even her usually loose khakis had gotten snug. According to what she’d read, she shouldn’t require real maternity clothes until her second trimester. But that was just around the corner now. In the meantime, she couldn’t go around busting out of her clothes. If her dad was noticing her weight gain, surely others would too.
Once again she went online, this time to a maternity clothes site. But everything she saw there seemed to only accentuate the pregnancy. What was up with these women showing off their bulging bellies? What she needed was a disguise. Baggy sweats seemed to be her best bet. And if her friends assumed she was simply putting on weight, so be it. That was preferable to the truth. Right now she couldn’t face the truth herself. How could she expect anyone