ELENA'S POINT OF VIEW
Isabelle showed up at my door at nine in the morning looking like death. It's been six months since their wedding.
"I'm dying," she announced.
"You're not dying. Come in."
She stumbled inside and collapsed on my couch. "I'm serious. Something is wrong with me. I can't stop throwing up. Everything smells terrible. I'm exhausted all the time."
I looked at Grace playing on her activity mat. She was nine months old now, grabbing at toys and babbling constantly.
"Isabelle. When was your last period?"
She froze. "What?"
"Your period. When was it?"
"I don't... I can't remember. Maybe six weeks ago? Seven?"
"And you're throwing up and tired and everything smells bad?"
Her face went pale. "Oh my God."
"Yeah."
"Oh my God. I'm pregnant."
"Probably."
"But we've only been married six months!"
"That's how it works sometimes."
She put her head in her hands. "I'm not ready for this. We just got married. We haven't even finished unpacking."
