I was only supposed to have the 10 training sessions as my combined Christmas/birthday gift since they are really expensive and money is tight right now, but Henri loves the results and so he agreed to let me purchase another ten pack. We’re doing a payment plan where it’s divided into three payments over our credit card.
I meet Daniel at the check in area. Today is weigh in and measurements day, plus I’m buying the 10 pack. I’m distracted and stressed out. I’ve been keeping a secret from my husband and with each passing day I panic more.
“Everything ok?” Daniel’s processing the training purchase in the computer.
“I think I’m pregnant.” I blurt out.
“Whoa.” He moves the keyboard my way and I absentmindedly type in my credit card info. “Do you and your husband use protection?”
“I’m on the pill. So I don’t know how this can be happening.” I’m pulling my hair behind my ear. This can’t be happening. We can barely afford the two we have.
“Well, how late are you? Like two weeks…three days…?”
“Yeah, three days.” Damn size 5 jeans with the flowers on the pocket…
I step on the scale. He writes it down in my file. I mentally note that I weigh more than I did two days ago. Probably because I’m pregnant again…
“Well, you’ve been pregnant before. Does it feel the same? Are you more tired than usual?”
“Yes, but I’m also exercising twice a day. And my kids never sleep. I’m always tired.” And think how tired I’ll be with a third. The kids will outnumber us…
He takes out that dreaded pincher thing that measures body fat and starts pinching different parts of my body and writing the measurements down.
I’m just spilling out whatever pops into my brain now, more to me than him. “We have our own business. Our insurance doesn’t cover maternity costs. Plus we still have a hospital bill for little Henry.”
“Look, I’m not a doctor or anything, but if you’re on the pill you’re probably not pregnant. Your body is probably just reacting to all the diet and exercise changes.”
This gives me a glimmer of hope. “I did make a lot of changes,” I consider.
He pulls out a container of whey protein. “Foot up.” I place my foot on it and he has me pinch the top of my thigh so he can measure it.
“I hope no one drinks from that thing if my foot is on it.”
“Huh? No, this has been under the table since I started working here. We just use it as a step stool for measurements.” He writes the number down. “I mean, think about it, in one month you changed your entire food intake, dropped five dress sizes and started working out twice a day. In one month. Of course your body is going to get a little confused.”
He pinches my calf to take the measurement. It hurts like hell and I wince.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m totally not pregnant.”
“Right…But take a pregnancy test, though.”
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