A Time for Hope (Lexi, #3)(75)



“Lexi!” I looked up at Hannah. I don’t know how many times she had said my name before I responded. “Lex, do you want me to call Alex?” I was guessing it wasn’t the first time she had asked.

“No, I can’t do this over the phone, I can’t just call him and say, ‘Hey guess what? I’m pregnant.’” I mumbled as I walked out of the bathroom, still in a daze.

Noah fussed in Hannah’s arms as she followed me. “Sweetie, just a second and Mama will feed you.”

“Hannah, why don’t you feed Noah and I’ll take Lexi down to my apartment. Dave is in the studio all day so she can just relax on the couch and no one will bother her. I’ll come back up here and clean up.” Taylah volunteered as she steered me toward the door.

“Sounds like a good idea Taylah. Lexi?” Hannah patted Noah’s bottom as he became increasingly restless.

“Ok,” I agreed as I numbly walked with Taylah toward the elevator.

It was probably the first time Taylah didn’t say anything. We descended the floors in silence. She just as quietly led me to her apartment and opened the door.

The apartment was still, except for a very muted thumping coming from the back room (studio) where Dave was working.

“I’ll be back in a bit, call me if you need anything,” Taylah assured as sat me down on her large sofa. She gave me one more look before disappearing back through the door.

I laid my head on one of the pillows and closed my eyes. I was so tired, overwhelmed and still feeling dizzy. I had always thought that when it came to this moment I would be sharing it with Alex. While I was thankful Taylah and Hannah had been there with me, I needed to tell Alex and I needed to tell him in person. I wanted to see his face when I told him that he was going to be a dad. I wanted to hold his hands to my belly and tell him our child was growing inside. Sound the f*cking alarms people; we are having a baby!





Chapter 18 - Knocked Up



I don’t know why they called it morning sickness; they should just call it freaking all-day sickness cause that’s how often I threw up. All f*cking day. I was living on Saltine crackers and flat ginger ale and still I couldn’t keep anything down.

“Lexi.” Hannah knocked on my bathroom door.

“Just a second,” I winced as I heaved my guts out yet again.

“Wow, you have it bad. Maybe you’re having twins?” Hannah poked her head through the doorway uninvited.

“Please tell me this stops. Nine months is a long as time to have your head down a toilet.” I grabbed a damp washcloth and wiped my face.

“Everyone’s different Lex. I was barley sick with Noah and then there are women who are sick the whole time.” Hannah shrugged as she handed me a clean towel, “I’m not going to lie. It could go either way.”

“Well thanks for the pep talk, so far I’m facing the prospect of being sick the whole time and potentially carrying twins. Happy Days.” I towel-dried my face, not feeling any better.

It had been two weeks since I had found out that I was going to be responsible for another human. Hannah and Taylah had been sworn to secrecy, knowing they only had to keep their mouths shut for a couple more days. I was supposed to be getting on a plane tomorrow and joining the tour, and with that, telling Alex our exciting news. The baby, I meant. I think I could spare him the fact I felt I was in a relationship with bathroom floor.

A visit to an OB GYN confirmed that I was in fact eight weeks pregnant and that we were fertility gods, pretty much conceiving as soon as I stopped taking the pill. Well Alex had threatened to get me good and pregnant and here I was, proof he was a man of his word.

The shock had worn off and other than feeling like crap, I was extremely excited, a little scared and ecstatically happy. I had been through the typical panic stage, analysing everything I’d done. That was last week, where I had completely lost my shit. I hadn’t been drinking so at least I didn’t have that weighing on my mind, but what about the endless running, sit-up-ing, push-up-ing and every othering Gunny Ortiz subjected us to in boot camp? An extensive Google search and confirmation from my doctor had reassured me that exercise was fine (and actually encouraged) but I would just have to modify it as my pregnancy progressed. I could see the Corps missing out in the foreseeable future.

I had spoken to Alex every day and it had been a challenge to hide the fact I had been so sick. I’d used the usual explanations fatigue, stress, possible food poising and for the most part I was able to deflect Alex’s concern by telling him I was just missing him.

Noah had recovered from his ear infection and was cleared to fly, so I booked the three of us tickets to Memphis where we were to join the band for the remainder of the tour. I had no idea how this was going to work but I knew with Alex on the road for the next eight and a half months (which was all of my pregnancy) I was going to be with him until I had no choice but to fly my about-to-give-birth ass home.

“Are you packed? Is there something I can do?” Hannah asked as she re-dampened the washcloth under cold water and handed it to me.

“I’m packed and ready. Though wearing actual clothes tomorrow could pose a challenge.” I looked down at the cotton boxer shorts and tank top that had been my uniform for the past two weeks.

“You could always wear a sweat suit?” Hannah offered as she joined me on the floor.

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