Back at it again with another commission story for  geckoguy123456789 , this time about his wolf character Sierra and the struggle of finding herself unexpectedly pregnant.

Part 1 of 3

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I was lying backward on the bed, paws propped up on the pillows, and staring up at the ceiling fan. My brain was pretty dead at the time, or at least buzzing like static, so the first thing I thought of was How hard would it have to spin to fall off the ceiling? It was such a stupid question, but I followed down that train of thought for a while. Did factories do tests of how fast a fan would have to spin before it collapsed? Or is that the architect? Could the blades cut something? Maybe not a finger, but a hotdog or something? Maybe that's some kind of calculation, then. 'How fast can we make this fan without it being able to cut someone's head off?'

I sighed, closing my eyes. It wasn't working. Big events have a habit of taking over your entire brain for a while, don't they? You sort of shuffle through the day, half of you stuck in a little pocket somewhere trying to work out what to do. Of course, good things get you excited, bad things make you anxious, but what happens when it's a little of both? Feeling breathy and light and energetic, while also feeling like you're going to throw up. I kinda burped uncomfortably at the thought of puking again.

I brought my tail up between my legs and gripped it with my left hand. My right, I laid down over my stomach. There. There it was. It was already happening. A thick, little layer of pudge that hadn't been there a couple weeks ago. I knew there were a million things it could have been, but only one that it actually was. The test was snapped in half and in the trashcan next to the bed. They say 'don't kill the messenger,' but I'd never been so upset to see a couple of lines. Besides, it's not like I could snap the real culprit in half.

Did you know I'm allergic to aspirin? I sure did. My doctors sure did. My family sure did. It was a pretty known fact to everyone who needed to know. Pretty much everyone except Josh. I don't know why it took him three days to refill my birth control prescription, but I didn't think anything of it at the time. Josh would take three days to take the trash out if he could get away with it. I'd heard horror stories about what missing a day could do to you, so I decided to take a few as soon as he refilled them. I feel kind of dumb that it took me a few weeks past the swelling and the itchy eyes and the throwing up to realize Josh had replaced all of the pills with aspirin, but not as dumb as he pretended to be after I caught him.

I get it. The Pill is expensive. We don't make much money anyway, so it's a big hassle to get more. But after the days of vomiting, both in and out of the office, and the discovery of our little 'joint effort,' I think it's expensive for a reason.

I gulped, feeling nauseous again. Except it wasn't another physical, 'I need to go throw up' kind of nauseous. It was the kind of feeling where things are so bad your whole body just feels like you're upside down. The room was spinning. Probably because I looked at the fan for too long.

I pressed into my stomach with my fingers, just a little bit. There, right under the little paunch. There was a hard, tense center to the pudge I'd put on, something I'd never felt before. Was that it? The uterine wall or the womb or whatever you're supposed to call it? I didn't feel any different, really, other than the puking. But there was this weird feeling of...weight. Not real weight, there wasn't enough to really notice, but a bizarre awareness of my body. Just knowing that I was...occupied. That I wasn't alone in my own body anymore. That, as small and miniscule as they were, I was sharing body space with another person.

I shuddered at the thought, trying to pull myself back into the real world. Look at the bright side. I try to count the things going well for me when things aren't going so well. I wrung my tail between my fingers as I thought. 'No more periods' was my first thought, which sounded pretty great until I thought about the tradeoff. Still, it's something. I guess...I'm not barren. That's a good thing to know when I have a kid I actually plan to keep. My fur will look great and shiny as it goes on. That's a plus.

Grumbling, I kicked into the pillow at my feet, bouncing the entire bed. It was useless, like throwing pebbles to break through a brick wall. The bright side wasn't as bright as I thought it could be. I might be simply, clearly, unapologetically screwed.

I turned my ears instinctively to the metal click of key-in-lock from the front door. I felt a rush of what might have been panic and what might have been relief. The dread of having to tell Josh was agonizing, a fear growing in the pit of my stomach faster than the baby itself. But at least there'd be someone else with me. Josh was not the ideal mate, I knew that, but I thought that maybe it would be good to shock him with something big. Maybe he'd finally grow up a little bit.

Pushing my thoughts aside, I rolled off the bed and back onto my paws, pulling back down my shirt. I quickly threw my hair back and strode quickly from the small bedroom, through the small doorway, and into the small kitchen of the small apartment. Josh, who was a very much not small husky, was locking the door behind him and carrying a grocery bag under one arm. A while ago, I'd have thought they were groceries for the both of us, but by then I knew not to get my hopes up.

“You're still here, babe?” He asked, pulling out bags of chips and protein powder and setting them on the counter. Josh was a meathead, completely absorbed in his own body image, but with the side effect of being the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen in my entire life. Despite everything he'd put me through, and all the regret I had dating him in the first place, the right glance from Josh at the right time could make my legs weak. I had a thing for big guys.

“So babe, what were you wanting to do tonight? I met a couple of guys down at the gym and they wanted me to go out with them to do some bar hopping. I said you'd come along, but if you didn't want to that'd be cool too. They're into working out and shit like that, so I don't know-”

“Josh,” I interrupted. “I'm pregnant.”

The words were punctuated immediately with Josh dropping a protein shaker to the floor, the sound of plastic skidding across the tile. He stared at me, wide-eyed, like I'd just pulled my own head off in front of him. My heart was pounding beneath my chest, but I could have sworn he looked more afraid than I did.

“Whhhh....” He breathed, trying to get the words out. It sounded like his entire vocabulary was got backed up in the back of his throat. He looked like a puppy, despite his intimidating appearance. Josh tried to speak two more times, but only managed a few impotent mouth flaps.

“You sure?” he finally managed to say. I sighed, remembering the broken test in the trash, as well as the earlier one I took in the bathroom at work. I ran a hand through my hair, sighing, while letting the other one fall on top of my lower stomach.

“Yeah...” I nodded. “I'm...sure.”
He blinked, panic keeping him rooted in place. I was mildly afraid he'd jump out the window. He staggered over to the corner like a zombie to pick up his protein shaker. Setting it on the table, he stared into nothing for a few seconds before he slowly made his way to the door.

“...I need to call my dad,” he mumbled.
“No, don't call your dad,” I protested, pulling on his arm fur to keep him from leaving. Josh was completely devoted to every word his father said. Of course, Josh's father hated me, so he'd be more likely to tell his son to hit the bricks than any of his own fear.

“But Sierra...I gotta...”
“This isn't any of his business, okay? We're going to work this out together. You and me, alright?” I clapped him on the shoulder and smiled as best I could fake it. Josh stared right through it, his ears flat against his head and his tail tucked between his legs. Immaturity was always his biggest flaw, but I never realized how easily he folded under pressure.

“I...I still wanna...”
“This isn't your dad's problem, okay? It's ours. And...I mean,” I smiled weakly, but genuinely. “It's...not that big a deal, is it?” Josh whipped his head around in shock and stared at me wide-eyed. I thought he was about to cry. Sighing, I pulled Josh along behind me on the way to our torn up and ratty couch. For a huge, six foot four, musclebound canine, he was pretty easy to drag along.

We sunk into the overstuffed cushions and tried to get comfortable. I sat back, sighing deeply to relieve the tension of a very stressful day. Josh still looked like he was about to be pulled apart by his own nerves, but at least he was still. He sat on the edge of the cushion and gripped his knees. I think he was more likely to throw up than I was.

“Well...” I said, not knowing what to say, but knowing that I needed to say something. “I guess...the first thing to ask is....do we keep it?”

Josh shot up straight with electric energy. He looked at me with an almost disgusted look on my face, like I was completely insane for the thought even crossing my mind.

“No! No no no no no no no no, we don't...I can't do....I don't want it. I can't...” He put his hands to his head and quietly whined in the back of his throat.

“Alright! Alright, calm down,” I said. “We won't keep it, okay? I'm not...we're not ready for that.” I paused, looking down at myself. I drummed my fingers over my stomach. It was strange, talking about someone so close, but so very far away at the same time. It wasn't like the pup would be able to hear us but...it still felt wrong.

“We...” Josh started to say, before falling into silent panic again. “...You'll get an abortion.”
My nausea unexpectedly came lurching back at the sound of that word. It was completely bizarre. I always considered myself pro-choice about the whole thing, always knew that it was an option to a mistake I thought was never bound to happen. But staring it in the face was too much for me.

“...We've got more options, Josh,” I said, trying to turn him away without outright denying the idea. “Just think about it. There's...uh...adoption, there's services. There...” I trailed off as Josh shook his head violently.

“No. No, that's not...I don't want that. I want this just...” He made a chopping motion with his hands. “Taken care of. For good.”
“But is that really the best option? This isn't just about what you want.”
“Sierra,” Josh said, looking grim, “are you really suggesting that we keep this thing?”

“No, Josh, calm down,” I said, starting to get irritated. I'm usually very hard to anger. “I'm not ready for a pup, but...I just don't think abortion is necessary, alright? It's just too drastic.”
“Are you listening to yourself? Listening to what you're saying?” Josh was getting angry as well.

“It's not like it's the baby's fault. I just don't think it's fair.”
“What's not fair is trying to drag me into what you want when my idea is the only one that makes sense,” Josh growled. I used to be afraid of his temper, but he was all bark and no bite. Regardless, he was still thickheaded and wasn't easy to talk down from an idea once he had his brain around it.

“You can't even afford birth control, Josh. An abortion's going to be a lot more expensive.” I shrugged. “It's...kind of the entire purpose of birth control, really.”

“This is exactly your problem, Sierra,” Josh said, jabbing a finger into my sternum. “You never let anyone else change your mind. Everything always has to be your way. This isn't just about you.”
I made a confused expression and gestured between us.

“Wasn't...wasn't that my argument two minutes ago?”
“I don't know, was it?” Josh yelled. I paused. He had a habit of running in logical circles during arguments. I'm still not sure if he did it intentionally or not. “We used condoms, right? This is probably more your fault than mine!”

“Okay...” I breathed, reorganizing my thoughts, not about to fall into the Blame-Game once again. I placed my hands on top of his on the cushion between us. “Josh...Sweetie, listen. I don't want this baby any more than you do, probably even less...but it's unfair not to at least give it a chance, right?”

“...It's...My dad could get us the money-”
“It's not about the money. I don't want your dad's money. I just...I want to carry it, alright? It deserves a shot.”
Josh shook his head silently. Pulling his hands back, he slid one over his head, folding back his ears.

“I don't know...” He mumbled. “I don't know, I don't know...” He stood and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I...I need some air. I'll be back later.” Before I could protest, he was already slipping out the door like a snake. He didn't even lock it behind him that time.

I sighed, instinctually laying my hands over my stomach without realizing it. I'm not sure which was worse, how bad the conversation went or how unsurprised I was. I started chewing on a thumbnail while thwapping my tail up and down on the couch cushions idly. I hadn't even thought about carrying the pup until the words came out of my mouth. Despite that, it was all true. If the alternative was something extreme like abortion, then I would rather have the baby, after all.

I sighed, leaning my head back on the couch. I was tired, tired beyond the strain of the advancing pregnancy. The office worked us like robots. I didn't even want to think about the mental exhaustion I got from staying on point all day long. Keeping up with the rest of the staff was already a full-time task without a pup in the picture.

“Baby,” I said, “You have the worst timing.”

*************************************************************
The rest of the night came and went. I went to sleep in the bed, waking up only once to throw up again and a second time to Josh coming home. He brushed his teeth, took a quick shower, then left to sleep on the living room couch. I can't say I didn't enjoy the leg room, but tiptoeing around him the next morning was a fit of patience I wasn't ready for.

I got to work feeling like a block of wood given legs. I had read something once about caffeine being harmful to a growing baby, so I took the first step of responsible “motherhood” and skipped my cup of coffee that morning. I got black tea instead, with just enough caffeine to keep me going.

I was pregnant, not crazy.
Four months ago, I graduated from the University of New Mexico, where Josh and I are both from. I have a Bachelor's degree in design and minored in photography, so I can't even begin to describe how thrilled I was landing an internship at the head office of Caroline Verduga. The fashion label, not the woman herself, though I heard she often visited. Problem was, the internship was in New York City, which was about as far away from Albuquerque as the moon as far as I was concerned. I had savings, I had plans, the 'could I' was taken care of, but the 'should I' was still a mystery. That's when Josh asked to come with me. I was really impressed he was willing to uproot everything to come along; I moved a lot as a kid, I was used to it. But, believe it or not, he really pulled through. He helped pay part of my ticket, helped find us a room near the Garment District, and basically was the best boyfriend I could ask for.

For a while.

When you think something is too good to be true, it usually is. If you ever took half a glance at my sketchbook, you'd know I wanted to be a fashion designer for a very, very long time. I wasn't naïve enough to think I'd be cranking out the new winter line as soon as I walked in the door, but it would have been nice to work with some actual, yknow, clothes instead of coffee mugs, folders, and all the junk jobs no one else wanted to do.

I buzzed the door to the office, sipping my tea and pretending it was actually waking me up in any significant way. I pulled on my button up shirt to keep it together. With the hint of a bump already coming in, my work clothes weren't fitting as well as I wanted them too. I hoped no one would take notice but...well, if anyone were to notice, it'd be fashion people. It felt bizarre, like I was smuggling something I wasn't even sure I needed to hide. I hoped I could work the front desk that day. At least then I could sit behind the desk and hide my stomach.

After a few seconds, the door clicked unlocked and I went in. Marcus was behind the desk, a very fabulous ram who wasn't an intern, but was only a slight step above one.

“Oh my goooooooood, thank yoooouuuuu,” he said, standing up quickly and clicking his hooves on the floor as he paced uncomfortably in place. “I have to piss so bad right now. Watch the front, okay?” Without a word of confirmation, Marcus quickly pranced off to the bathroom, leaving the office entrance unguarded. Sighing, I put my bag down on the table and sat in the rolling chair behind it, already feeling a weird strain as I bent over to sit. Even halfway into my tea, I was ready to use the bathroom as badly as Marcus. Side effect of the increasing pressure on my bladder, I guess. I just prayed that the puking would hold off at least until I got home.

Desk work was boring for a world where everyone could just call each others' cell phones or send emails directly. Most of my job was buzzing in employees who didn't have a key fob yet, answering the phone once in a blue moon, and signing off lunch orders from delivery guys to employees. But it was slow and it was boring, which was exactly what I needed at the moment. I went to pick up my tea before being smacked with a wave of nausea in protest. Not even a month in and baby already had a picky appetite.

I pushed the cup away and into the trash, shuddering at the disaster that almost happened. Instead, I pulled my smaller, side sketchbook that I kept in my purse for long, boring stretches of time. It came with a strap inside, holding a collection of small, but specialized drawing pencils. I flipped past finished and unfinished designs, scraps of colored-in nonsense, and idle doodles before coming back to the ball gown I'd been working on. After a few days and a few big distractions, I was able to look at it again with fresh eyes.

I frowned. It didn't come out the way I wanted it to, or even the way I thought it did a week ago. The idea was to mix French Rococo styles of excess and luxury, but parse it back down with modern-style minimalist aesthetics. But the idea in my head didn't match what I'd drawn on paper. I thought black and white would look sleek and modern, but it didn't play with the minimalism well and threw the whole thing out of balance. There was too much bare shoulder and too long of a train at the bottom. And why in God's name did I think those gloves were a good idea?

Right before I was able to begin coloring out the gloves from the design, the bell on the front door buzzed angrily from the speaker beneath the desk. I grumbled, my concentration ruined easily without enough sleep in me. I nearly stabbed my finger through the unlock button, letting in a handful of familiar employees escorting around a couple guests I hadn't seen before. I was invisible to them either way, so I dipped my head and continued with my drawing.

A shadow fell over the desk as someone stood expectantly across the desk from me. I sighed quietly and slipped the pencil back into its holder.

“I'm sorry about that, ma'am. What can I doooooo....” I trailed off as I looked up. Caroline Verduga stood over me, a sharp-eyed, graying doberman woman in a sharp, tailored suit. Instead of continuing my greeting, I just kind of drooled shock out of my open mouth. Without a word, she reached across the table and picked up my sketchbook. She flipped through it, her eyes wildly scanning the pages while her expression remained harsh. She set the book down in front of me, turning it so the Rococo dress I'd been drawing was the open page.

“Impractical,” she said in her smokey voice, pointing to the trailing dress fabric with a pen of her own. “Clashing,” she said, then pointing to the gloves I hated. “But this is interesting,” she continued, circling the shoulders with a thin line. “The color is bold and hard. It works.” Caroline stood back up and slid the sketchbook across the table to me. “The concept is solid. It has promise. I hope to see it when it's done.” She nodded curtly, never so much as breaking a smile, before striding off with the other employees in tow.

I was dumbstruck. My hands were still gripping the sides of the seat to keep from falling out of it. My tail, sticking through a gap in the back of the chair, wagged wildly and completely involuntarily. I bounced in place for a solid minute that felt much, much longer. I didn't even notice Marcus coming back to take over the desk from me. It was such a small moment, but I knew it would be a significant memory for my life, even as it was happening.

I floated through the rest of the day on sunshine, not making so much as a grumble to getting people coffee or donuts or copies or whatever else they needed. My month had been made. Realistically, I probably never would have seen her again, but my mind still swirled around exotic scenarios of getting coffee with Caroline and showing her all my sketches, her nodding and critiquing, liking them so much she asks me to work on the new line for the next Fashion Week.

If only my home life was as lucky.
I came back to the apartment at about 8 to find it unexpectedly empty. The lights were off, casting shadows through the blinds as cars passed on the street. I set my bag down on the counter and walked through the room, tip-toeing lightly so not to even disturb the air.

“Josh?” I called, despite how obviously he wasn't there. The blanket he slept under last night was bunched up on the floor. The bed was similarly disheveled, but in a way I recognized from that morning. Nothing was off except for Josh, who should have been there by that late in the day. We still hadn't come to a decision about the pregnancy, but I was looking forward to telling him about the encounter with Caroline. She was famous enough that even he would recognize the name.

I turned to get my purse from the counter, catching sight of the paper tacked to the back of the front door. It was a spot I tended to leave notes, but it's the first time I'd seen one of his in its place. I expected to dread whatever it was he'd gotten into, but by the time I sat at the counter to read it, I realized it was far worse than I imagined.


Sierra,
I'm sorry, but I have left New York on a train back to New Mexico.
I'm not ready to have a pup in my life and if you won't listen to what I want, then I think
our relationship is over. I wish you the best with everything in New York.
Josh.

I stared through the words for a while, trying to digest every single letter to make sure I hadn't missed anything. It was so short, so concise, not anything like the long-winded blabbering Josh usually got into. In just three lines, it told me everything I needed to know.

And what I knew was that I was alone.

I admit, I cried. I cried a lot. I sobbed into the pillows of the couch, into the open air, and cried and cried and cried until I was hoarse. It was probably the lowest point in my life, those few hours when I was the most alone I'd ever been. It wasn't the loss of Josh himself that hurt me, we'd been having trouble for weeks, but the abandonment itself was overwhelming. I'd not only been dumped by my boyfriend, I'd been dumped by the father of my unborn pup, in a strange city I still didn't understand, and without a dollar to my name. As far as I was concerned, my life was over.

I ran out of tears and energy around 10. I was so exhausted, I just sort of curled into a ball and fell asleep on the couch. I woke up around 1:30, still as tired as I was before, but with an added, ravenous hunger. I figured it was baby already getting up to driving me crazy. I crawled back into a sitting position and sighed. My work shirt was getting on my nerves, so I undid the bottom buttons and even the zipper of my pants to let my bump, as little as it was, have room to breathe. It felt good. Relieving.

It was just rounded enough to poke out a tiny bit from where it had been a few months ago, sort of like a parentheses mark. I doubt anyone would be able to notice but me. I cupped one of my hands against it, taking a few quiet minutes to feel my growing stomach. I could fit my entire palm over where I assumed the baby was, but nevertheless, it was there. I frowned. Josh's absence changed everything. Was abortion really such a bad option?

The thought made me uncomfortable. My opinion still hadn't changed. My sister Maria was an accidental pregnancy, but where would I be without her? Now that I was actually staring the idea in the face, I wasn't willing to deny this baby a chance at living, regardless of whether it was with me or not. After all, wasn't that part of being pro-choice? Being able to choose to go through with it?

The thought of going home to mom crossed my mind, which was far more repulsive to me than the termination option. There's a reason Maria now lives halfway around the planet in Australia. Sure, mom would take me in, help me with the baby, but would I ever be able to live down being a single mom living at home? Hell no. It'd be the worst mistake of my life.

The day at the office seemed like months ago. I'd been so excited to tell Josh about meeting Caroline, too. Well, I'd been excited to tell anybody. I had no idea if she'd remember me beyond today, but what she said meant a lot to me. The potential she said I had, or at least my designs. Was I going to throw that away because of bad luck?

I wiped away the tears with the back of my arm, sniffing while I did so. Fine. I'd had my cry for things passed. I'd have this baby. I'd make it work somehow, with or without Josh. This is the closest I'd ever come to my dreams and getting pregnant wasn't going to change anything. I'd finally show Caroline, Josh, mom, and even myself that I'm worth something, and I'll do it while having a baby. It wasn't going to be easy, but I could handle it.

...Right?