“Are you sure?” Nurse Tracy had asked. “Beyond the first trimester, this becomes a more complicated procedure.”
Through my tears, I was able to tell her I was sure. I had never been more sure of anything in my life. I would not be aborting my baby.
So while I didn’t require physical support, since the most I’d suffered was the insertion and subsequent removal of the IV needle, it was the presence and emotional support of my friends that I so desperately needed. Weary to the core and in need of the kind of perspective only a quiet day spent in bed could offer, I begged my friends to take me home. Prepared for my post-surgical need for rest, they obliged with little fuss.
The ride home in Zoë’s SUV was awkwardly quiet, but I was content to sit in the back seat and look out the window. My fingers gravitated towards my belly, and I touched where I thought the baby’s head would be. Silently, I sent waves of thought to the fetus still inside me: I will give you a good life, baby, I promise.
And as I crawled between my borrowed sheets that still smelled faintly of my mother’s perfume, my brain already gearing down for some much-needed rest, all I could think was how proud Kendra was going to be.
Chapter 33
What have I done? Was my waking thought as my eyes blinked open to the light of day.
My night’s sleep had been permeated by dreams about babies. Babies in strollers, babies in cribs, even babies swaddled to yuppie moms in grocery stores.
I was going to be a mother.
Well, sort of. I was going to be a birth mother. I, Vicky Blumenfeld, was going to give my baby up for adoption.
Forcing some saliva into my desert of a mouth, I turned the idea over in my head for the first time since I had made the rash decision at the clinic.
Had I made it under duress? Obviously.
Was it a bad decision? No. No: it was a good decision, the right decision.
Feeling even better than I had when I had spontaneously pledged a thousand dollars to the Red Cross after Hurricane Katrina, I realized this was, in fact, a good decision. This was one of those selfless things that made you realize you were a contributing member of humanity. Like when you returned a lost wallet with no thoughts of reward or helped someone up from a fall. This was what it felt like to really be human.
Although I was scared, a huge weight had lifted, a weight that I now recognized as doubt over making the wrong decision. I was now on track, moving towards my correct destiny and feeling foolish that I had fought it for so long when the signs had been there the whole time.
And as much as I felt no desire to keep the baby, I had a sudden wave of feelings that I could only describe as a fierce maternal protectiveness. I had to give this baby the best possible start to life; that was my selfless contribution to humanity.
So with a renewed energy and zeal, I launched out of bed, surprised at how good I felt physically. The nausea had been tapering off and this morning I felt particularly good and in need of a hearty breakfast. I was also ready to begin the arduous but necessary task of telling those around me of my plans. I’d start with the easy ones: my friends.
Since it was Saturday and I knew they wouldn’t be working, I called Jen, Zoë, and even Kendra and arranged to meet them at the diner for breakfast in an hour. Although Kendra sounded trepidatious, none refused, likely since they all thought I was still reeling from my procedure the day before. Boy, I sure had some news for them.
* * *
I was the last to arrive, walking into the restaurant with a sureness I hadn’t felt in a long time.
There were my three friends, silently looking at me as I approached. Jen and Zoë wore their concern like masks, but Kendra quickly looked down at the table, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. She was clearly not happy about having been summoned.
Just let me explain, and you’ll feel much better, I wanted to say to her.
I took my seat.
“How are you doing?” Zoë asked. “Are you feeling okay?”
I nodded, an easy smile on my face. “I actually feel very good.”
“You must be so relieved that’s all behind you,” Jen said, handing me a menu.
“Please, I can’t listen to this,” Kendra snapped, rising from her chair.
“Sit down,” Zoë hissed. “We’re here for Vicky.” She glanced at me, her eyes asking why I had invited Kendra.
“Kendra, please.” I implored, “Sit down. I have something important to tell you.”
Reluctantly, Kendra sat back down, making a show of pulling her chair in toward the table. She made eye contact with only the table but was still able to make herself heard. “Fine. But I don’t need to hear the details of what you did. You are my friend and I said I would support you, but I can’t sit around and listen to you all talk about it like you went to the hospital to get liposuction or an ugly wart removed.”
“I didn’t go through with it.” I blurted out. I had meant to ease into it, had planned it all out in the car on the way over, but I couldn’t torture poor Kendra any longer.
They all stared at me, speechless.
The waitress materialized in that second to pour us coffee and take our order.
As I ordered my egg white, cheese, and broccoli omelet, I could see Jen and Zoë exchange glances. Kendra was just dumbfounded, staring at me the whole time.
But after we all ordered and the waitress had been dispatched to get me some decaf and a big glass of milk, they turned to me again for my explanation.
There was no pussyfooting around it, so I just said it straight: “I’m going to have this baby and give it up for adoption.”
There was a moment of utter silence before Kendra vaulted out of her chair and for a second I thought she was going to tackle me to the floor. Instead, she threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around me in a huge teary bear hug.
“Oh my God, Vicky, that is so great! I knew you’d come around.”
Really? Ten seconds ago you practically thought I was Satan…I kept my peace and rolled my eyes at Zoë over Kendra’s shoulder.
Zoë and Jen were obviously still shell-shocked at my news.
Once Kendra finally let me go, Zoë spoke for both her and Jen. “How did this come up? I thought you were really set on not having the baby. We were with you at the hospital…” She glanced at Kendra, who was still grinning, oblivious.
Feeling stupid and knowing my friends would think I had turned into some sort of new-age freak, I was still obligated to explain. “I had an epiphany. I just figured that maybe this was supposed to be my contribution: a baby for someone else to raise. Who knows?” I shrugged. “Maybe this baby will be the next Bono or Albert Einstein or whoever and I was destined to have him.”
“Yeah,” Jen said wistfully, “Maybe like you’re the woman in Terminator, and you were destined to have this special baby who will save the world.”
Zoë tsked and rolled her eyes. “Please, get your head out of your ass.”
I thanked the waitress as she placed my glass of milk in front of me and filled my mug up with decaf: milk for baby, coffee for me.
“This is so great, Vicky,” Kendra said, staring at me so intently she was beginning to freak me out. “So are you going to go through the Children’s Aid? You can do private adoption, too. You have to get a lawyer and…”
“Whoa, there, Ken,” I held up my hand. “I’m new at this and will likely come back to you for some of your advice, but let me chew on this first. The concept is very new to me; let’s allow it to sink in a bit okay?”
Kendra leaned back in her chair, her shoulders drooping a bit, but she nodded.
“I have a lot of information, at least for prospective parents so if you want to go through it…”
“In due course.” I smiled at her so she would know that I did appreciate her offer. I just needed to swallow the concept of carrying a child for nine months before I settled on how I was going to give it away.
“So what are you going to do about Dr. Lewis?” Zoë asked ove
r her coffee mug.
I stared at her stupidly. My love life was not supposed to be the subject du jour.
“You know, the guy you said you were going to go out with?”
“Uh, I’m going to be having a baby.” I pointed out the obvious.
“So?” Jen chimed in.
“Who’s Dr. Lewis?” Kendra looked from me to Zoë.
“He’s the hot veterinarian that Vicky’s supposed to be going out with.”
I took a gulp of milk. “How can I possibly go out with a guy if I’m pregnant? Isn’t there some sort of dating rule against that? God, I mean I’ve been out of the dating game for a while, but I don’t think it’s been that long.”
“I think there is,” Jen said. “But I don’t think it holds if you’re not keeping the baby. You’re sure you’re not going to want to keep the baby?”
I shook my head. “Very sure.”
“So I don’t see anything wrong with it. It’s not like you’re showing yet anyway.”
“I don’t know.” It felt weird. That was a big secret to hide.
“No, I definitely think you should go out with him,” Zoë said. But her judgment couldn’t be trusted. She had ulterior motives: she just wanted to know what he would be like in bed. Not that I had any intention of getting laid anytime soon.
“I’m not dating material.”
Zoë put her mug down hard on the table. “Listen, just because you’ve decided to have this baby doesn’t mean your life should be put on hold. You should take this opportunity while you can. You have no idea if Dr. Lewis will be available once you’re done with this whole pregnancy/adoption ordeal and you’re not in a position where you should be wasting chances.”
I wasn’t liking what I was hearing. “Exactly what position are you referring to?”
“Yeah, Zoë, what are you talking about?” Jen also seemed unimpressed by Zoë’s attitude.
Zoë looked from Jen to me. “I just mean you shouldn’t throw away a good opportunity. You’ve got baggage.”
“Sure I’ve got baggage, but in seven or so months, I’ll have a lot less baggage. Wouldn’t it make more sense to start dating then?”
Zoë shrugged and looked down at her empty mug. “Jesus, who do I have to fuck to get some coffee around here?”
“Zoë!” Kendra scolded, looking around to make sure no one else had heard.
Jen rolled her eyes and smirked, but then looked at me. “Well regardless, I say it couldn’t hurt to go out with this guy. You may find that he’s not right for you anyway and then you don’t have to string him along for seven months.”
I had to concede it was a good point.
“Or,” Jen continued. “You never know, maybe you’re into him.”
“Sure,” I drawled. “In which case um, surprise! I’m pregnant with someone else’s kid and by the way, I’m giving it away in a few months. You don’t think that would scare him off?”
Kendra spoke up, “If it does, then he’s a shmuck. You should want the kind of guy who would recognize that what you are doing is the biggest, most selfless sacrifice a woman could ever make.” She reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
I swallowed and looked down at the table, willing myself not to cry.
But it was a futile attempt, especially when I looked up and realized that all three of my friends had tears in their eyes.
I attempted a smile but knew words were not yet possible without risking a sob so I telepathically told my friends I loved them.
Suddenly the waitress returned with our meals and for the first time in two months, I dug in with gusto; I was now very conscious of the fact that I was eating for two.
* * *
As we left the restaurant, walking together toward the parking lot, Jen grabbed my arm, holding me back from walking with the other two.
“You know, Vic, that I think you’re like the strongest person on the planet but I just want to make sure you’ve really thought this through. Like are you prepared for the haunting feelings of your baby being out there? Are you going to be able to give this baby up? Are you really, really sure?”
I stopped walking and looked at my friend, the tears threatening again. God, would there ever be a time when I wasn’t dangling on the edge of an emotional meltdown?
And I could hardly blame her for bringing this up. It was her job. This is what she counseled kids on probably ten times a day. But I was no kid.
Not that my decisions of late had been overwhelmingly mature.
“I have to be honest and say that no, I haven’t really thought this through. I guess if I were the type to think things through, I would have realized a whole long time ago that I didn’t want kids and Dave did. I also would have realized that fucking some guy in a nightclub while drunk and not on birth control was a bad idea.”
I took a deep breath and continued. “But regardless, I know that this is the right decision for me. You know, back in that clinic, it felt like I was taking the easy road. Not because I have anything philosophically against abortion, but I kept getting this feeling that it just wasn’t what was meant for me and this baby. Maybe I am like that woman in Terminator whose baby was meant for great things. I don’t know…Does that sound stupid?”
Jen nodded, a smirk pulling up the right corner of her mouth. “Yes, it does. But I know what you’re saying and I believe you. I totally think you’re doing the right thing.”
Even though my heart was telling me I had made the right decision, it helped hearing it from my friend. Nothing like a good dose of validation to calm the spirit.
She put her hand comfortingly on my back. “I can’t believe Kendra’s not freaking out. You know her and Paul are on adoption lists.”
“She probably would be if I hadn’t offered her this baby a long time ago,” I said.
“You what?” Jen stopped and grabbed my arm again so I wouldn’t catch up with Zoë and Kendra.
I shook my head. “I was all messed up in the head and didn’t want to face the whole abortion thing. It really did seem like a good idea at the time. Clearly the hormones were like crack, doing a number on my judgment.”
“So? What happened, did you change your mind?”
We were almost at our cars. I didn’t want to embarrass Kendra so I wrapped up the conversation with Jen as quickly as I could. “No, she realized it would be too complicated and set me straight. I’ll fill you in more later.”
Although it was not something I would normally do, I felt compelled to hug all three of my friends and thank them for their unwavering support. We stood there like idiots in the parking lot, hugging and crying until finally Zoë broke up the group and climbed into her SUV, mumbling something about Andy’s Karate class.
I turned to get into my car when there was a light pressure on my shoulder. “Just a second, Vicky, I’ve got something for you,” Kendra said, turning and leaning into her car. I stepped over toward her as she emerged holding a book. What To Expect When You’re Expecting. I had heard of this: apparently it was the pregnant girl’s guide to the unknown and terrifying realm of pregnancy and childbirth.
I took the book from her. “Why do you have this in your car?”
Kendra looked at her feet. “I know it’s stupid, I guess I just thought maybe it would bring good luck. I keep it with me all the time.”
“It’s not stupid. And I can’t take this from you, Kendra.” I held the book out for her to take back.
She pushed my hand away. “No really, I want you to have it. You need it more than I do.”
My heart broke, but I couldn’t help but try to console her. “You will need it. I’m sure of it.” I held it out again.
She just shook her head. She was crying again but still smiling. “No, you take it. I think what you’re doing is just magical. I have no idea what you must be feeling and can’t even comprehend what it would be like not to want a baby of your own, but that’s not for me to judge. But what is so important is that you are giving this child and a family the
most precious, precious gift.” Unable to help herself, she threw her arms around me again and we hugged and cried in each other’s arms until it began to rain.
I got into my SUV and put the book on the passenger seat, marveling at the hand-drawn picture of the pregnant woman on the cover; she didn’t look overly pleased to be pregnant either.
Chapter 34
When I returned from breakfast I began to read the book and although it gave me all the technical information I required, like when would the morning sickness stop (any time now), and what I was supposed to be doing, it didn’t tell me what I really needed to know: when was I going to really feel like a mother. And I don’t mean, when will I feel pregnant, because believe me, the overwhelming fatigue, my constantly churning stomach and aching, bloated boobs were all constant reminders that I was with child. But I didn’t feel like a mother, didn’t feel a connection with the growing mass of cells in my uterus. Sure, since I had made the decision to have the baby and give it up, the pregnancy began to feel more real, but I didn’t really feel connected to the outcome. That’s what I really needed to know.
So off to the surf the net I went.
I Googled ‘bonding’ and ‘pregnancy’ and found an article on how to bond with your baby before birth. The number one tip was to touch your belly. I looked down at what, so far, wasn’t much of a belly. I moved my hands down, laying my palms on where I imagined my uterus would be. “Hello, little boy, it’s your mother.” I suddenly felt like a moron. First of all, who the hell else would it be? Duh. The kid would have to know by the vibrations that it was me speaking. Then I realized I probably shouldn’t refer to him as a boy. If I was wrong in my gender assumption, I could be creating a lot of problems that someone would end up sending the kid to therapy for later in life. And I still wasn’t overly comfortable with the word mother as it related to me.
Okay, so for now, no more assertions of the child’s sex and no mention that I am his (or her) mother. Not that my discomfort over being referred to as mother or mom was of any consequence to a child who would never know me.
Life, Sideways Page 20
