When I exited the clinic three days later, I glared up at the sun. Why was it so happy and shiny? It should be raining because this damn city should always reflect my mood. It should be cold, rainy, gray, and sad.
Okay, maybe not sad—just scared. When the nurse practitioner had told me in her cheery voice that I was pregnant and that they could do an ultrasound right then to check on the fetus, I’d wanted to scream and cry.
Oh, and in case you were wondering, when the parasite is this small, you don’t get to have one of those “squirt goo on your belly” ultrasounds. You get the “giant wand shoved up your v****a” type of ultrasound.
So after basically losing my virginity a second time to an ultrasound wand, I crossed the street to sit on a bench in a tiny park about a mile from campus. A
