Learning to Heal Read Free Page A

I stare at the white bedroom door wanting to make her feel better, but I don’t know how or why she’s so upset. Regardless of my confusion, the sound of her heartache causes my eyes to burn and my own tears to fall. I change my mind and keep walking, knowing my presence won’t be welcome.
    I reach my dad’s office and knock on the ominous door.
    “Come in.” My dad’s deep baritone voice reaches me through the wood, and I turn the handle. I say a prayer before I walk through, not sure if I’m ready to face my parents.
    Once I step inside, my dad walks over and engulfs me in a hug. I let myself relax into his warmth while surrounding me with his familiar smell of Old Spice. Mom soon follows and wraps us both in her slender arms. I feel relief because they still love me. But will they after if they learn about my affair with a married man? Who already has children? We stay wrapped for a few short minutes, and when they both release me I feel bereft. Taking a breath, I go sit on dad’s favorite worn, blue couch that’s older than me and try to get comfortable. The hug was the last thing I was expecting and it brings more tears to my eyes. “I’m sorry.” Just breathing breaches the silence after my sobbing apology escapes my lips.
    “How far along are you?” I glance at Dad, so glad for those words instead of him asking me to pack my bags. The man in front of me looks different than he did twenty minutes ago. Older and more tired, not disappointed like I pictured.
    Guilt for causing him to age and worry over my selfish actions overtakes me, but I battle it.
    “Ten weeks.” Pulling out the ultrasound that confirmed my suspicions two weeks ago, I pass it to Mom. I feel an automatic smile lift one corner of my mouth from just looking at the black and white image. I don’t know what the hell it all is besides a small lima bean-shaped blob.
    “And what’s your plan?”
    Shaking myself from my thoughts, I turn again and face my dad. When his question registers in my brain, I can’t help but look at him like he’s lost his flippin’ mind. “What do you mean?”
    “Jasmine, have you thought about this? And I don’t mean about the baby. I mean really, really thought about this and what it means for your health?”
    He sits beside me and I turn to face him. He knows all about my heart condition because he’s the one that did the second surgery on me since the first one decided to do more harm than good. I was sent in shortly after I landed in the system for having a “tet” episode where I lost oxygen and became cyanotic.
    “Yes.”
    It’s all I think about. Instead of speaking my fears out loud, I smile and rush to ease their worries. They need to know or at least think I have everything under control. “But I already spoke to my doctor and they made an appointment with a local specialist to follow my pregnancy.” They even have me on watch . If I have any issues throughout this pregnancy, they say they’ll abort my baby. If it’s up to me, though, that will never happen. I plan on taking it easy and after getting today over with, the rest should be a piece of cake. Or at least I hope so. I’ll focus on a stress free pregnancy. Maybe do yoga or something like that. Plus, I promised myself I wouldn’t worry until after a cause surfaced. Once I go to the specialist, I’ll have a better understanding of what the future holds. Besides, every case is different. I’ve done my research on women with Tetralogy of Fallot who become pregnant and the outcome is usually good. Then again, most were probably able to run outside with other kids or jump in the pool without getting lightheaded and dizzy. Those episodes haven’t happened in a while so I hope my heart problem doesn’t cause health issues for my unborn child.
    I shake these dismal thoughts from my head. I have bigger fish to fry and his name starts with M . I plan on frying his ass until he gets some damn sense in his