Present Perfect(103)

He was up late last night studying. He didn’t have classes until later today, so I wanted him to catch up on his sleep. He’d be pissed when he woke up and discovered I snuck out of the condo and came here without him, but it wasn’t necessary to always have someone by my side at every appointment. Everything had been going well and I felt great. Dr. Lang walked in and sat behind his desk.

“Noah didn’t come with you today?”

“He was up late last night studying, so I let him sleep. He’ll be mad, but he’ll get over it.”

“He’s been with you at every other appointment. I assumed he would be with you today.” He looked up at me.

I had gotten to know Dr. Lang pretty well over the past few years. I could tell in his eyes he didn’t have good news.

“Amanda, I think Noah needs to be here so we can talk. I’ll have Gayle call him.”

“No. Don’t call him. He’s sleeping.”

“He’d want to be here.” The door opened and his receptionist Gayle walked in. “Gayle would you call Noah Stewart and…”

I stood up abruptly and said, “Do not call him. He is sleeping.” The tears stung my eyes.

That underwater feeling that I had almost forgotten about came rushing back. The doctor motioned to Gayle and she left us alone. I sat back down.

“Amanda, you’re in no condition to drive yourself home. We need to discuss our plan of action. Noah needs to be here. We can call your parents too, if you like.” I simply shook my head.

A half hour later Noah was sitting by my side, clutching my hand. “There were a couple of suspicious spots that showed up on your chest x-ray. The other tests show that the cancer is back. I’m sorry. I think another round of chemo is advisable,” the doctor said.

Another round of chemo echoed in my head. Another round of chemo with the nausea and exhaustion. Another round of chemo, but without Dalton.

Even though I knew the stats and Dr. Lang never hid the fact that the cancer could come back most likely in my lungs, I still fooled myself into believing I was free and clear at this point. My anxiety level had shot through the roof during the first year of checkups, but I had started to relax after the second anniversary.

“My recommendation is that we do what we did last time, ten cycles and…”

“I’m pregnant,” I blurted out.

Dr. Lang looked up at me and Noah. He knew already.

“Yes, I realize that.” He exhaled a deep breath. “I know that the recurrence comes as horrible and unexpected news. You’re still early into the pregnancy.” Noah and I glanced at each other. I think we were both still in shock because neither of us were understanding what he was suggesting. “You’re both young and still have plenty of time to start a family.”

“I’m having our baby.”

“Amanda, you know how strong the chemo drugs are. The baby would be at an extremely high risk.”

“Then I won’t have the chemo until after the baby is born,” I said

“Tweet…”

“I’m not going to kill our baby with chemo or any other way.” Dr. Lang stood and rounded his desk.

“I know this is a difficult decision. I’m going to step out for a bit, so you can have some privacy.”

Once I heard the door click shut, my sobs poured out of me. Noah rushed over and knelt in front of me. We wrapped our arms around each other, holding on tightly, I melted into him.

He kept repeating, “I love and adore you.” His voice cracking as he held me and stroked my hair.

My only response was, “I’m sorry for getting sick again.”

His arms tightened around me. I don’t know how long we stayed like that. I was exhausted from the sobs, but I couldn’t seem to stop.

“Tweet, you know I want our baby, but I need you. I want to have a life with you.”

“If I don’t have our baby and I don’t survive, then you’ll be alone. I don’t want you to be alone. I know it will be a lot, but my mom will help, and so will your mom, and Emily…”

“I could have the entire f*cking city helping me, but if you’re not with me I will be alone.”

I looked into his beautiful light blue eyes with tears flowing from them nonstop, drenching his face. Those beautiful eyes were overflowing with love and fear.

Hours must have passed sitting there weighing all our options. When Noah and I left the office, we had made our decision. We knew it was going to be hard, but there really was no other option for us.





I love all the gadgets we have now to communicate. Cell phones, texting, emailing, Facetime, Skype, but there’s still nothing quite like a handwritten letter or note. They’re warm, cozy, and personal. Sure, it might take longer for them to get to you, but some things are worth the wait.





I was in the nursery curled up in the huge glider, my parents had given us as a baby gift. I had two more months to go before I would meet this little one. I hoped that if my time here was coming to an end, that I would at least get to meet my child first, even if it was only for a brief moment.

Noah walked by and stopped in the doorway. “There you are. What are you up to?” he asked.

“I’m writing more notes.”

“Why?” It was a knee jerk reaction. I smiled up at him. He understood why I was doing this, but he wasn’t comfortable talking about it.