Feb. 28, 2014


Dear Diary,

Jon and Pat have continued to ‘harass’ me ever since returning from the Olympics. I say ‘harass’ in quotes because I’m starting to enjoy messing with them.

Two days ago, Jon approached me as I was putting my skates on again, but this time he was alone.

“I heard you gave one of the other ice girls in Pittsburgh a black eye,” he asked sitting down next to me. “Is that because she looked at Sid the wrong way?”

Without looking up I simply replied ‘no’ and kept tying my skates.

“I think that’s kind of hot,” he said with a smirk, “when a girl loses her temper.”

I finished my skates and looked up at him, “do you want a black eye?” I asked.

“I do kind of,” he said smiling at my unexpected comment, “but only from you.”

I stared at him for a moment, and I actually considered punching him, but I got up and started to walk to the ice.

“Hey, wait,” he said standing up and grabbing my arm.

I turned to face him and pushed him away. “What.”

He looked at me for a moment, and then grabbed my shoulders (gently) and kissed me.

He pulled back and studied my face. “Still nothing?” he remarked at my emotionless face.

I was internally screaming/laughing, but I didn’t want him to know he had gotten to me. I leaned up and kissed him on the cheek and winked at him as I walked away. This time he didn’t try to follow me.

The next day I was given my Blackhawks ice girl jacket that matched the other ice girls’. Instead of saying ‘head ice girl’ like it was supposed to, it said ‘Ice Queen.’ I have a feeling Tazer and Kaner had something to do with it because they couldn’t stop laughing as I looked at it. I shrugged and put it on.

Jon wouldn’t move to let me on the ice to skate, so I said “excuse me, I am the Ice Queen, get off my ice.” I almost smiled, but stopped myself.

Shocked, he moved and watched me skate for a few minutes, so I made sure to do every kind of fancy jump and intricate footwork I knew how to do.

I found him waiting for me after practice. “Can you help me with something?” He asked as I took my skates off, still wearing my Ice Queen jacket.

“What.” I asked without looking up.

“I need some help… ironing my shirts,” he paused long enough for me to think ‘ironing his shirts’ was a euphemism.

“Why, it’s not hard,” I replied taking my skate off.

“I got a new iron, I don’t know how to use it,” he was still trying with this ironing thing.

“What do you need help with?”

“I need you to show me how to do it,” he said.

“How to do what?” I asked taking my other skate off.

“How to iron.” He was very persistent, and I was bored.

“Okay.” I said picking up my skates.

He drove me to his apartment in silence. He tried to start a conversation a few times but I shut him down each time.

When we got to his apartment I realized he might need help with a little more than just ironing. It wasn’t messy or dirty or anything like that, it just seemed very ‘unlived’ in.

“Is this actually where you live?” I said turning to him. He nodded and I laughed, completely forgetting that I was trying not to have any fun while in Chicago.

“How about we just forget about the ironing, and I can make you dinner. Like, real food, not take out,” I said walking over to his refrigerator. “Oh great, you don’t have any food either.”

I gave him a shopping list and sent him to the store. While he was gone I tried to make his apartment look a little nicer.

I’m not really sure what happened, but when he returned I was lying on the floor. He rushed over to me to see if I was okay and helped me up. I was shaking, and I said I didn’t know what happened. (I feel like this has happened before…)

Jon insisted he take me to the hospital.

They drew blood and did some other tests and we spent several hours in the waiting room. We both fell asleep, so I’m not sure how long it was, but when the nurse finally called my name for the results it was just starting to get light outside. Jon stayed in the waiting room as I followed the nurse into an examination room.

I sat down on the bed and the doctor pulled a chair up next to me and looked over my charts one more time.

“Ms. Saxon, I don’t really know how to tell you this, but you are over four months pregnant,” The doctor said, trying to be as nice as possible, but I could tell she was tired.

I immediately started to feel sick and light headed as the blood rushed from my face.

“Oh my God,” I said, “no, this is impossible. I was told I had a miscarriage in December, but I hadn’t known I had been pregnant.”

“I’m sorry, but the blood work indicates you are definitely pregnant. Did you have an ultrasound done in December?” She asked.

“No, just some blood work,” I was starting to shake. I wished Sid was there to hold me and talk to the doctor for me.

“Okay, well we are going to do an ultrasound, I just need to get the technician. Can you change into this?” She asked handing me a hospital gown before she left.

I took out my phone and considered texting Sid, but my hands were shaking so much. How could I be pregnant? I got the gown on and sat on the bed waiting for her to return.

The doctor came back with the technician and they pulled the gown over to expose my stomach.

I watched the screen as she began the ultra sound, “There’s one heart beat…. And there’s the other one,” the technician said smiling.

“You mean mine and the baby’s heart beats?” I asked.

“No, you have twins, I thought you knew,” she looked at the doctor, who shrugged.

“Her birth control medication was messing up the results of the blood test, I couldn’t tell if it was twins or not,” she explained. “You should stop taking that medicine. I’m not sure why you were on it in the first place, it’s very strong and still in the early stages of trials. That’s probably what caused the fainting spells.”

“What?” I was getting more confused. (Did she say twins?!?@?)

“It’s not on the open market yet, you’re doctor must have been participating in the trial. Didn’t she tell you?” I shook my head, unable to speak, and she continued to explain. “There have been several cases of this medicine doing the opposite of what it’s supposed to do and causing women to hyper-ovulate, instead of stopping ovulation.”

“Hyper-ovulate?” I asked.

“Releasing more than one egg at a time, possibly many. I’m not surprised you have twins. We need to work out a timetable for when you possibly got pregnant. According to your blood work, it looks like it was sometime in the end of September or the beginning of October. Is that when you started taking this medicine?” She asked. Again, I nodded unable to respond. “Here is a calendar, I have highlighted the days I think you could have gotten pregnant, I just need you to write on the dates you had unprotected sexual intercourse.”

What? I’m supposed to remember when (and who) I had sex? Luckily I write all of that stuff in my diary, which I keep in my purse. I flipped through the book until I found September and October and began writing in when and who I had sex with.

When I gave it back to the doctor she looked a little confused, “What do these different letters mean?”

I used their initials instead of their real names, “Those are guys I had sex with.”

The doctor exchanged glances with the technician, whom I think had no idea what was going on, and then looked back to me. “It looks like you had sex with these two guys several times during the weeks I highlighted for you, are you sure?”

I nodded, “It’s all in my diary,” I said pointing to the tattered and worn book.

“Umm, okay. I don’t know how to say this, but given these circumstances, there is a chance that your twins may have different fathers.” She said looking at me.

“How?”

“This medication you were on could have caused you to ovulate at different times, even if you were already pregnant.” She explained. “You could get a paternity test, but I would suggest waiting a while for the fetus’s to develop more. It’s an invasive procedure, and they are still very small right now.”

All of this was a lot to take in, and I just wanted to go home. I need to return in a week so they can do more blood work once my medication wasn’t in my system.

I found Jon sleeping in the waiting room. I told him I had reaction to something I ate and was fine now. He took me home and I tried to sleep.

-

Now I need to tell Sid.

I hadn’t seen him since he returned from the Olympics, though we skyped often.

I decided I needed to tell him in person, and the Pens will be in Chicago tomorrow (today?) for the outdoor game at soldier field.

Why is this happening to me? I don’t even know what’s happening any more.

Sincerely,

Emme

P.S.: It must be karma

_________________________________________________________________________



March, 3 2014

Dear Diary,

First, I had a lot of fun skating at the outdoor game. It was my first time skating in front of the Pens after leaving them, and they all seemed happy to see me. It helped me forget what I had learned that morning.

However, after the game I had to talk to Sid. I had been dreading having to tell him ever since I found out. I wish he had been in that hospital room with me so I wouldn’t have to say it, or try to explain what had happened with my medication.

He came over to my apartment after the game and I made dinner for him.

“Sid,” I said sitting down on the couch next to him after we ate. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay,” he said looking concerned, “what’s wrong?”

I looked down and took his hand, not knowing how to start.

“This is really hard for me to say, especially after what we went through in December. I, um,” I paused, still looking down, unable to look at him. “I don’t really know how to say this, but I am several months pregnant with twins.”

I looked up to see his face melt from concern and confusion into a mixture happiness and (I think) fear. “That’s… did you say twins?” He asked, looking a little concerned again.

I told him what the doctor had said about my medication and how this had apparently happened to several other women.

“Why would your doctor give you that medicine and not tell you it was a trial, or what the risks were?” He seemed more upset about that than the fact that I was going to have twins in nearly four months.

“I don’t know,” I said.

He pulled me closer and hugged me, “I don’t know why, but I am so happy.”

I wasn’t as happy. I couldn’t tell him that he might not be the father. I actually couldn’t tell him. I think it would break his heart, and I can’t do that to him. Not after what he went through last time.

He spent the night at my apartment and we had breakfast together. I kept trying to think of how I could tell Brandon without Sid knowing. And I needed to tell him before Sid said anything to the guys at practice.

Luckily Sid solved that problem for me. “Toews and I have an interview about the Olympics in about an hour, so I need to head back to the hotel to shower and stuff. Will you be okay here?”

I laughed, “Sid I’m fine.”

He kissed me goodbye before leaving. I immediately texted Brandon and told him to get over here.

“Did Sid talk to you at all?” I asked as soon as he knocked on my door.

“No, why?” He said looking confused as he came in. “This is a nice apartment. Is Sid paying for this?”

“Yes. I need to talk to you. Sit down.” I put him on the couch and sat next to him, trying to think of how I would tell him.

I paused before continuing. I really didn’t want to have to explain everything again, but he deserved to know.

“I just found out that I didn’t have a miscarriage, and I am actually pregnant. And you might be one of the fathers.”

He looked shocked. “Wait, one of the fathers?”

“I’m having twins.” I said quietly.

He listened quietly as I told him about the medication and all of the weird science behind how that could happen.

“So Sid could be the father of one of them, and I could be the father of the other one? Or both?” He asked, still shocked.

“Yes.” I said, feeling really horrible about everything.

“And when can you find out?”

“I’m not sure, but my doctor said I should wait a while before getting a paternity test. Or just wait until they are born. That’s the safest way to do it.” I explained. I realized I was surprisingly calm given the situation.

“And when are they due?” He asked.

“I have to go back in a week to get more tests done, so I’ll know more specifically after that, but sometime in June probably.”

“June?” he asked looking even more shocked. “But that’s so soon.”

“I know. It doesn’t give me much time to get ready, but we don’t have to wait as long to see who the father/fathers are.” I said trying to cheer him up.

It didn’t work. I think he might be broken.

“And one more thing. This is very important.” I said looking into his eyes to make sure he understood what I was about to say. “Sid cannot know about you. After what he went through in December, I think it would break his heart if he knew he might not be the father. Does that make sense to you?”

He nodded.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” I said leaning in to give him a hug. I suddenly remembered the night we spent together before I left Pittsburgh. I was worried he was going to fall apart. He has been through so much this year, I don’t know why he puts up with me. I held him close and we sat together until he had to leave for practice.

-

Sid and I ended up spending the next day together before he had to leave. I told him I would let him know what happened at my next doctor’s appointment.

I feel horrible now. I should tell him about Brandon, but it would literally break his heart. It would be so much easier to wait until I find out who the fathers are and then tell him (if it’s not him).

Why is my life so complicated?

Sincerely,

Emme

Notes

If you're reading both stories I apologize. There will be some overlap in the first few chapters.

And if you haven't read 'The Diary of an Unintentional Puck Slut' here is the link:
http://www.hockeyfanfiction.com/Story/33419/The-Diary-of-an-Unintentional-Puck-Slut/

Feedback and suggestions welcome!