Page 189 - Reason To Sing by Kelita Haverland

Chapter Thirty-Three

literally go insane. And now the truth is mind boggling. Barely
able to steady myself, head still swirling from the news, I get up
and stagger out of the office.
I keep my naked breasts covered so Hudson doesn’t see
the changes. I sleep on my stomach a lot. It’s hard to keep
him away so I have to make daily excuses as to why I am not
“in the mood.” My husband likes to have sex every day but, at
this point in our relationship, I am far from interested. I only
participate out of duty. But now, I am petrified to let him see or
touch any part of my flowering figure.
This should be a joyful time and a welcome experience. My
maternal instincts flow through every pore of my being. As a
little girl, my baby dolls were cared for deeply. I spent hours
dressing, undressing, bathing, cuddling, strolling, feeding,
entertaining, rocking, tucking in and loving my children. I
fondly recall our cold Canadian winters, when I ensured that
each doll was warmly dressed for sleep and tenderly tucked in
for the night. I had always dreamed of having several children.
In fact, I planned that I would be a mom by the time I was 27.
For some odd reason that was the magic number. But instead, I
find myself pregnant at 31 and scared beyond belief.
But a decision has to be made. Time is not my friend. Every
night when I go to bed I can’t wait to go to sleep. I plead with
God endlessly, “Please, take this baby from me. Please God,
grant me a miscarriage.”
But in the morning my breasts are still heavy, and I must
do my damnedest to hide my nausea. Sometimes I have to
swallow the vomit that sits in the back of my throat. What to
do haunts my every waking hour.
There is just so much turmoil. My heart and head feel like
volcanos, bursting with fire and ready to erupt! Maybe I’m
having a nervous breakdown? Is this how it feels when you’re

175