Page 36 of Exiled

“Thank you—”

“You bet. Have a nice day. NEXT! Number... one-oh-seven!”

And just like that, I have an ID.

I make sure I have all of my papers, place the temporary card with it into the DHL envelope. Orient myself, and begin the walk to the Avail clinic. It also is much, much farther away than it seemed on the map. By the time I get there, my feet ache, and I just want to go home.

But that is more likely because I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to have to face this truth. My knees shake as I sign in and take a seat in the waiting room. My hands shake. My stomach flips. I am fighting tears.

After a few minutes of waiting and filling out a form—the answers to many of the questions I leave blank, because I just don’t know—a door opens and a young woman stands in the doorway, holding a clipboard. “Isabel?”

I stand up, and the young woman smiles at me. Twenty-two, perhaps. Bottle blond, on the heavy side of curvy, a kind,comforting smile and a welcome presence. “Hi, Isabel. I’m Abby. Come on back.”

I follow her. I’m too nervous and terrified to even say hello back. Abby leads me to a room with an exam bed, closes the door behind us. “So, Isabel. You’re here for a pregnancy test?”

I nod. Try breathe and can’t.

Abby sees my trembling, my obvious terror. Puts a small, cool hand on my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, okay? We’re here to help. Just take a deep breath, let it out.... good. Now, can you tell me when your last period was?”

A digital thermometer under my tongue; a cuff Velcroed around my bicep, a gauge measuring something while Abby glances at a watch.

“Um. Last month. Middle of last month.”

“So how long since your missed period?”

“About . . . three weeks?”

Abby nods. Unstraps the cuff, hangs it in its place. Retrieves a small clear container from a cabinet, writes my name on a label. Hands it to me. “I just need a small urine sample.”

Abby shows me to the bathroom and I obtain the sample—which is a bit trickier than it sounds. Return to the room, and hand Abby the sample. There is something bizarre and embarrassing about handing a perfect stranger a cup full of my still-warm urine. But Abby seems totally at ease and unconcerned. Vanishes with the sample, promising to return within a few minutes with the results.

I sit on the exam bed and kick my feet, too nervous to sit still. Too afraid. Still not thinking about what it means. What I’ll do. I can’t think of anything. My mind is racing so fast with a million fears and thoughts and worst-case scenarios that I shut it all out and refuse to think at all. Blank. Staring into nothingness, breathing slowly in through my nose, out through my mouth, trying not to cry.

Abby comes back. Sits on the small stool, hands folded together resting on crossed legs. “So, Isabel. The results came back positive.” A smile. “You’re pregnant.”

I swallow hard. Blink back tears. “Is... could there be a mistake. A false... um, a false positive, perhaps?”

A shake of bottle-blond hair. “No, honey. There’s no such thing as a false positive when it comes to pregnancy. False negatives are real, and if the test had come back negative we’d give you a blood test, which is much more accurate if it’s early, still. But your last period was three weeks ago, which is kind of a long time in these kinds of scenarios. So, it’s conclusive.”

I am handed yet another clipboard and pen, told to fill out more forms. I do so quickly, and Abby leads me to a different room, this one a counseling room. The counselor is a woman, white, with gray hair tied in a bun; kind, wrinkled eyes; a soothing, soft voice. Mary, from social services.

“Are you alone?”

I shrug. “I . . . at this moment, yes.”

“Do you know who the father is?” This is asked gently, so as not to sound judgmental, I suppose.

“Um.” There are only two options. “Yes.” There should only be one option.

“But the father is not here with you?”

“It’s . . . complicated.”

“I see. Well, you have a few options, at this point, Isabel: abortion, adoption, or keeping it.”

“I—”

Mary lays out several pamphlets. “If you choose to abort the pregnancy, there are several different methods available to choose from—”