Sisterhood Everlasting - Ann Brashares [46]
“Do you think you want the cervical ring again?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“All right. Is there any chance you are pregnant?”
“No.”
“Okay. Go ahead and put the robe on, opening at the front. I’ll do a quick exam and get you on your way.” More hopeful, her eyes, Bridget decided. They were oddly fragile for a person who’d been around so long.
“Great. Thanks.” This was easy.
“Did you leave a urine sample?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The nurse came back in once Bridget had gotten into the robe and her expression was different.
“Do you think the ring is wrong for me?” Bridget asked chattily. “Maybe the pill would be better? But I might forget to take it. You see, that’s why I got the ring instead.”
“Bridget.”
She turned at the sober sound of her name. “Yes?”
“Sit down.”
Bridget hopped on the table. She gathered her papery robe in a bunch in front of her and fitted her heels into the stirrups.
“No, you don’t need to do that yet. Just sit and talk to me for a minute.”
Bridget sat up. She let her feet dangle.
“I can’t give you a new cervix ring or any other kind of birth control because you are pregnant.”
Bridget watched the nurse’s face. She watched her eyes. She looked into them to find some other way of interpreting that word.
“You think I’m pregnant?”
“I know you’re pregnant. I had them run the test twice. False positives are extremely rare after four or five weeks.”
“I don’t think I am. I don’t think I could be. Are you sure you got the right cup of pee?” Bridget’s feet were rattling; her lungs felt shallow. She crossed her arms over her chest.
“If you want to leave another sample, you can. But I feel almost certain that the result will be the same.”
“But I have that ring.”
“The ring emits a hormone that keeps you from conceiving for a certain length of time. You are right that it expired.”
Her lungs were turning inside out again, not catching any air. The air gave her some hope of deniability and she couldn’t seem to get any. Her breasts felt big and achy and had for many days. Her stomach had felt vaguely unsettled, but she accounted for it with the obvious facts that her heart was broken and her life was in ruins, not to mention her long-running hangover.
She thought of her stomach, her uterus, where this thing was supposedly happening. Oh, my God. She put her hands over her face. She felt horribly claustrophobic in here. “I have to go,” she said. Her voice didn’t sound right.
“Bridget.”
Bridget realized at the door that she was still wearing the paper robe and that her clothes were in a pile in the corner. She froze. She didn’t know what to do. It seemed overwhelming to walk to the corner and put them on.
She felt the nurse behind her. The nurse took her hand. Bridget felt herself shaking all over. Her hand was frozen and the nurse’s hand was dry and warm. The hand pulled her back to the table and sat her down. The nurse sat down next to her and put her arm around Bridget’s shoulders. The world was too strange for awkwardness anymore. Bridget caught some air, finally, and it helped her think a little bit.
“Can I just get rid of it?” she asked. She knew those weren’t the kind of words you were supposed to use.
The nurse nodded slowly. “You can end the pregnancy.”
“So let’s do that,” Bridget said quickly. “Can we do it right now?”
“Bridget, it’s a somber choice. I’ve done this a long time and I’ve learned many things in the course of it. You won’t forgive yourself if you do it without thinking it through first.”
Bridget shook her head. She didn’t want to make a somber choice. She didn’t want to think about anything. She wanted this to be over.
“Go home. Tell your boyfriend. Let him help you talk it through. Come back if you decide you’re ready and bring him along to hold your hand.”
Bridget had no choice but to see Eric in her mind. The tears came up from somewhere deep. They weren’t only for Eric but for everything she had lost or ruined or was about to lose or ruin. Because