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I should have known what was going on when I put the mood sticker on my hand and it turned the deepest, most vibrant blue I had ever seen next to my skin. We were having a meeting at work and someone had handed those out as a way to lighten things up, as a gimmick to get us all focused and paying attention. I don't remember what the meeting was about, so the sticker method failed on me. All I could think about was how warm and moist my hands were and how thirsty I was. All I could think about was how the mood sticker should normally be a pleasant green, on my usual fidgeting, cold hands.

At a friend's suggestion that I could have diabetes and should get tested for this, I booked a doctor's appointment. A few days later, there I was, getting my finger pricked and a urine sample taken. When I write that I should have known, I am partially lying. I did know and I also knew that I had to ask the dreaded question. "Could you please test the urine sample to find out if I'm pregnant as well?", I asked the doctor's assistant. He asked me when the last time was that I had gotten my period. I said,"About a month ago, I think". "Oh." "Well, then I don't think a test is necessary," he said. "I would wait to see if you get your period."

They handed me my next appointment card and I knew that I was supposed to leave. I looked the female nurse in the eye and asked, once again,"Can you just test the urine sample to find out if I'm pregnant?" Being a female, I think she knew from the tone of my voice that this request was not based on some silly whim of mine. I sat down and waited while dialogue was going through my head,'No you're not. You're fine. I'm sure they'll tell you you're not. Here look at the dress Nicole Kidman wore at the awards ceremony. . .Over here, Julianne Moore wore bottle green. . ."

My attention was pleasantly diverted into Hollywoodland, when these strange words: "It's positive," woke me up into confusion, then tears. I look like I have a slight smile when I cry or am upset and the nurse asked me,"Did you want to be?" "NO!", I said, a huge storm of fear and disbelief streaming down my cheeks. "Why now?" I knew the answer: because I was stupid. Because I had sex without contraception and the guy I was with came inside me and I noticed that I was most likely ovulating the very next day. 'Hello?! The Morning After pill, condoms, not having sex right after you just broke up with your boyfriend and are confused and vulnerable. . . Does this mean anything to you? Wake up!'

The nurse lead me into one of their exam rooms and I told her that I didn't know who the father was. I told her that I had gotten back together with my boyfriend and that I had sex with someone else during the time we were broken up. I told her that I was scared and had never thought (although it was obvious from the risks I was taking) that I would have to deal with a pregnancy or get an abortion.

I was raised to have a high regard for life. My parents are anti-abortion and when I was 13, I got up in front of my English class and did an anti-abortion speech. The inkling of the good Midwestern, Christian girl that was still there, stuck in my bones, hated me for deciding to have an abortion. The liberal girl that I had become knew it was necessary and that I was not ready to be a mother or carry a child in my womb for 9 months. When the nurse calmed me down, she told me how safe and easy it was to get an abortion nowadays and copied the names of several places I could go to from a Health Services book. I took this with me and headed out the door, praying that, as I walked to my car, no one from work (which was right across the street) would see me here with my tear stained face and want to know what's wrong. Go to Goodbye, my little one 2

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