‘Good, but I didn’t have any dreams. Is that weird?’ he said, eyebrows pulled together as he stifled another yawn.
‘No, I don’t think that’s weird. I don’t dream every night. Maybe you did but you forgot them?’
‘Yeah, maybe,’ he said, rubbing his nose.
I massaged his shoulders, noting how tense my own were. I drew in a deep breath. Here goes . . .
In the bathroom, my body shook, my chest felt suspended in fear – the fear that I wasn’t pregnant. That I had failed. That I hadn’t lived up to the promise I had made to myself and to Jon and Justin – that I could carry a child that wasn’t mine, I could be the person to give them such a gift.
I blinked several times to clear my eyes before glancing down at the test. Two faint pink lines formed a cross marking out the road ahead . . . but I was no longer at a crossroads, I was pregnant. My shoulders relaxed, almost slumping as breath left my body in a long sigh of relief.
‘I’m pregnant!’ I yelled, darting back into the bedroom. ‘There’s a baby in my tummy.’ I smiled, my hands on my chest as if to cradle my heart, full with love and exhilaration.
Andrew rolled over, his sleepy face lit up. ‘That’s awesome, babe. The boys are going to be stoked.’
‘Keira, Jaxon, Mummy has a baby growing in her belly,’ I squealed, stepping closer to the bed, attempting to drum up some enthusiasm from the kids, even though I knew the concept would be difficult for them to understand until they saw my body change, felt the baby kick.
Jaxon’s eyebrows lifted, his big brown eyes wide. ‘That’s good, Mum.’ He nodded, casual.
I smiled at his innocence, his pure acceptance of how it was; then my thoughts shifted to Jon and Justin, how excited they’d be. I didn’t want to just send them a text, I wanted to mark the occasion, so I grabbed my phone from the dresser and switched on the video. ‘Keira, I want you to look into the camera and say, “Jon and Justin, you’re having a baby!” Can you do that for Mummy?’
She nodded and licked her lips, preparing herself.
‘Okay . . . ready, set, go!’ I pressed record on my phone, hunching over to hone in on my daughter.
Keira fidgeted under the sheets before pulling them up to her chin. ‘Ah, Jon and Justin . . . you’re having a baby.’ She widened her eyes and offered an effervescent smile before rolling herself over the bed as she giggled.
‘Yay!’ I rejoiced. I created a new message for the boys, attached the video and pressed send. Waiting, I gripped the phone in my hands, tapping it on my chin.
An instant later, my phone began to ring, Justin’s name flashing.
‘Hello. You got the video?’
‘Yes, yes, I did. Oh my God, I’m just so happy.’ Justin’s voice rose in pitch.
‘I just did the test and it came up positive, so I’m pregnant! You’re having a baby.’
‘Oh, thank you so much. I’m so excited! I wish Jon was here, but he’s at work.’
Justin was breathless as we talked about the news. I paced around my bedroom, Andrew looking on, laughing.
‘You’re going to be a dad.’ I placed my hand on my stomach.
‘I can’t believe it!’ Justin said again. ‘I’m over the moon. I’m going to call Jon.’
‘Yes, of course. You must,’ I said in haste. ‘Well, I’ll have the blood test to officially confirm in two days, so I’ll be in touch.’
‘Thank you so much, Shannon. Really, I can’t thank you enough.’
‘You’re so welcome. I’m just so happy I can help you both.’ I hung up the call, held the phone to my chest, squeezing it. I needed something to grip, to confirm I wasn’t dreaming, I was truly pregnant. I lay down on the bed next to Andrew, careful in my movements. It was no longer just me, my body, a single entity; I had confirmation, I was with child, someone else’s.
‘I’m pregnant.’ I wriggled closer as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders.
‘I knew you would be,’ he said, kissing my forehead.
Keira rose to her feet on the bed, jumping, gaining momentum. Normally I’d let her climb all over me, but seized by instinct my hand went out, deflecting her feet away from my stomach.
‘Keira,’ I said as she landed on my legs, ‘honey, you can’t do that to Mummy anymore. Remember, I have a baby growing in my tummy and we have to look after the baby. You can’t be jumping on me or wrestling anymore. We have to care for this baby for Jon and Justin.’ I patted my tummy slowly, encouraging her to do the same.
Keira crawled over the bed towards me. ‘Aww, baby,’ she mimicked, tilting her head to the side as she rubbed my belly, puckering her lips in a show of affection.
‘That’s right, it’s Baby JJ in there.’
Keira leaned forward, her eyelids fluttering as she lifted my shirt and closed her eyes, kissing my skin. ‘Baby JJ, I love you,’ she said in a singsong voice.
‘Now that’s better – and you know what? I’m sure Baby JJ will love you too.’
Two days later the pregnancy was confirmed via a blood test and a phone call from the nurses at the IVF clinic.
I rang Jon. ‘It’s all confirmed. I’m officially pregnant. I just got off the phone with Sonia from the clinic.’
‘Oh, that’s so exciting! Now I can tell my family.’ I could hear the delight in his voice, the prospect of becoming a father now a firm reality. ‘They’re going to be so happy. I’ll have to tell Mum not to say anything until twelve weeks. That’ll be so hard for her.’
Twelve weeks – that stage when the foetal nuchal translucency test took place and you could relax a little in the knowledge that your baby was developing normally. If that was the case. A time to revel in the first glimpse of the unborn baby kicking in utero, a magical moment and one I’d never forgotten with my own children. It was also, potentially, a time of despair, when your worst nightmares could come true, the world crashing down around you. In the back of my mind a bud of doubt still thrived, sustained by my fears: on any day I could experience twinges, then cramping, bleeding, pain, and lose the precious life inside me – a life that wasn’t mine to lose. I’d felt the same anxiety when I was pregnant with my own children, but this time it was different: a trust had been placed in me and I wanted to keep that trust but my body could fail, put an end to life. It was beyond my control. The thought that I could let Jon and Justin down, end the dream, frightened me.
Not to be carried away, I clung to the hope that everything was going smoothly. I was a positive person, I could do that. I had to believe that, as it had for my last two pregnancies, my body was working as it should and a healthy baby was developing within me.
A healthy baby for Jon and Justin.
The dream, alive and well.
14
Precious life, a holiday and Chinese takeaway
While I was in Sydney for the transfer, my friend Clare had also been going through IVF, and soon I had the joy of hearing that she was also pregnant, due on the exact same day as me. I was delighted by her news. Over the coming weeks we texted each other frequently, comparing the sensations in our bodies, the sleepiness, the nausea setting in and our aversion to strong smells, particularly eggs and fatty food. Six weeks pregnant together, I could relay my past experiences to Clare, reassuring her that it was all normal.
A few days later I went to meet Tenille and Karen for lunch. Before we met I pictured Karen’s big, round belly, her luminous complexion and the sparkle in her eyes – so close to meeting her child. As I pulled into a car park my phone beeped. I levelled the park, switched off the engine and reached for my mobile.
It was Clare. She had suffered a miscarriage the night before. She insisted that she was fine but said she just wanted to let me know. I stared at my phone, my heart aching for Clare and her partner, for all the years they’d been trying. I blinked back tears, torn between sadness for my friend and my own guilty relief that I was still pregnant.
Since I’d received the positive test result, I’d been in a heady daze, perhaps even a
little complacent in my third pregnancy. My situation was now very real – I knew the baby growing inside me was a precious life, fragile, treasured but with my friend’s sad news I felt the gravity of her loss reflected in my own fears. The path ahead of me was unknown, black, murky and each day was another step towards the longed-for outcome and now, more than ever, I had to appreciate every single one of them.
I cupped my belly and closed my eyes, my skin warm, the air in the car stuffy. I drew deep breaths and stilled my mind, focused on the life I held within.
‘You’re important, little one,’ I said aloud. ‘Stay with me, my little passenger. Please, stay with me.’
A few hours’ drive down the Pacific Highway was the idyllic spot of Hawks Nest. We spent the Easter holidays there with the Rachels and their families in a holiday house owned by Rach’s parents, situated close to the beach. Six adults and six children squashed into a three-bedroom house could have been overwhelming, but we loved it that way: days at the beach, bike rides, dinners at the golf club and the Chinese restaurant down the road, and trips to Newcastle for shopping and movies. Jaxon and Keira loved the freedom the sleepy beachside town offered, together with the lazy barbecue breakfasts and the blow-up pool set up in the backyard. The kids cruised around barefoot on scooters, whizzing along the quiet road outside the house, while the husbands camped out on the front lawn with beer and music. Road tennis was a favourite game, the racquets taken out of a box in the garage and dusted off as we set up on the bitumen outside the house.
This year I’d asked my friends if I could invite Jon and Justin up for a night, to meet their husbands and spend time with the kids, so we could all get to know them a little better. To my delight, they agreed.
Now that I was seven weeks pregnant, nausea had hit, my stomach twisting at the sight and smell of some foods, particularly meat and eggs. I was constantly hungry and frustrated, with no idea what I felt like eating. If I went any longer than ninety minutes without food, bile would rise up in my throat, acidic, a hollow sensation in my gut. My limbs felt heavy and slow with fatigue. In a tired state, I could only focus on the building nausea. I had read an article that declared ‘baby brain’ was a myth, but I thought it must have been written by a man or by a woman who’d never, ever in her life been pregnant.
We’d been in Hawks Nest for several days before Jon and Justin arrived. The day the boys were expected, I kept my phone close, checking the time. Finally I received a text saying they were just driving into the town. I swung around to face the girls. ‘They’re almost here.’
Rach lifted her shoulders and squealed, ‘How exciting!’
‘I better go outside so they know which house it is.’ I walked to the front door, the screen squeaking as it opened. Padding over the thick grass, sidestepping the kids’ scooters and tennis racquets, I glanced down the road. A silver hatch indicated, pulling into the street, Jon and Justin smiling, waving. It was the first time I’d seen them since the transfer.
‘Hello,’ Justin hollered, stepping out of the car.
‘You made it,’ I said, hugging him. ‘How was the drive?’
‘Not too bad.’
‘How are you? How’re you feeling?’ Jon said, walking around from the other side of the vehicle.
‘I’m okay, feeling nauseous and very tired, but that’s a good thing, right?’
‘Well, I guess it is, but not for you,’ Jon said sympathetically, kissing my cheek.
‘It’s what I signed up for. Come inside and meet everyone.’
Nervous, I glanced back and scanned the window to the lounge room, the window to my family and friends, the window to my world. I hoped the boys would be well received, especially by my own children; they’d only met Jon and Justin once before and now they were to spend the next twenty-four hours with these strangers. Knowing my children, though, their infectious smiles and love of mischief would break down any barriers. My thoughts moved to Kevin and Trent, my best friends’ husbands. They were so far removed from my situation, I wondered what they would think, what they would make of the boys and their quest for a baby. Of course, Trent and Kevin knew the story, knew I was pregnant, but our discussions about the topic had been brief at best.
Kicking a few sets of miniature thongs away from the doorway, I swung the screen door open. The kids jumped around, the three boys poised with Nerf foam dart guns, laughing and shooting each other from behind the couches. The girls skittered, negotiating the dart war, Barbies soaring through the air in hot-pink high heels and matted neon hair.
Walking inside, I raised my voice over the ruckus. ‘Hey, kids, these are my friends, Jon and Justin. Jaxon, Keira, do you remember?’ I glimpsed the boys, Jon smiling tentatively as he bent down, placing his bag on the floor.
There was a series of hellos as the kids fiddled with their toys, eager to resume their play. Jaxon’s gaze lowered as I approached and knelt beside him.
‘Do you remember Jon and Justin? Remember Mummy’s growing a baby for them in her tummy?’
Jaxon nodded, his cheeks flushed.
‘Hi, Jaxon, it’s nice to meet you again.’ Justin shook my son’s small plump hand.
Not wanting to push things, I ushered the boys into the kitchen, where Rach and Racho were waiting to greet them, and the kids promptly returned to their games.
By late afternoon, the setting sun had transformed the sky into a palette of peach, pink and yellow, the clouds lined with iridescent gold. A game of road tennis was underway, and as I stood on the front lawn, Jaxon and Keira climbed over Jon and Justin, giggling beneath their tickling fingers or indulging in dizziness as the boys spun them around. Laughing, relaxed, I tucked my woollen cardigan around my waist, and noticed Jon stealing a glimpse of my lower belly. Of course there was nothing to see, their baby only the size of a lentil. What did they expect to see so early on? I wondered how they felt about the situation, never having gone through anything close themselves and with no visual evidence yet of a pregnancy. All the what ifs churned over in my mind once again: Did they trust me to take care of their baby? Did I trust that they would look after this child once it was born? Was I prepared for the weeks of vomiting and lack of energy? How would I cope if it all went wrong?
To settle my mind, I returned my attention to Jon and Justin with my children, noticing the way they held them, tickled them, inducing hearty laughter, speaking directly and respectfully when the kids were too rough. Keira showered Jon with kisses and he closed his eyes, welcoming each one as her gift of acceptance. Jaxon tackled Justin unexpectedly, scaling his shoulders, and Justin fell back, chuckling, grabbing for his sunglasses as they tumbled off his head.
A tennis ball zipped past, and I jumped with fright.
‘It’s your turn, Shan,’ Trent yelled from across the road, walking over to hand me the racquet. ‘The boys can have a go with you and Andrew. I’ll get the monkeys off them.’
‘Hold on . . . car!’ Kevin shouted, waving his arms, motioning for everyone to move off the road to make way for an oncoming vehicle.
Minutes later, Andrew my doubles partner, I threw a tennis ball into the air, smashing it with my racquet. The boys were laughing, their foreheads creased as they concentrated on their shots, running barefoot over the bitumen, Jon flushed, yelling, ‘Car!’ as another one approached. It was great to see them so relaxed around my friends, my family, around me.
The next morning, after the kids had woken the boys early, bursting into the lounge room where they slept on a sofa bed, jumping on them, we sat at the dining table. Kevin, Trent and Andrew congregated around the barbecue, cracking eggs onto a sizzling hotplate, flipping bacon. I swallowed, cringing at the smell, my gut folding in on itself.
‘What’s that you’re drinking?’ Jon asked as he leaned over the table.
‘It’s a drink I make with a green powder called Vital Greens. It’s alkalising, good for the baby. It has coconut water kefir in it which makes it fizzy.’ I took a sip, gulped it down, licking my lips unconvincingly.<
br />
‘And what about those tablets, what are they?’ Justin counted my vitamins with his eyes.
‘Well, this big yellow one is my pregnancy multi; this one is fish oil, which is good for bub’s brain development; this one is folic acid, to prevent birth defects; and these are probiotics for my gut health.’ I rattled off the list, lifting the tablets. ‘And this is my buckwheat cereal. It’s about all I can stomach at the moment for breakfast.’ I lied: even the buckwheat cereal made me feel nauseous, but I had to have something in my stomach, so I continued to spoon it into my mouth, chewing, swallowing.
‘Anyone want some Cloud?’ Rach called from the kitchen.
‘Ah, what’s Cloud?’ Justin asked.
I laughed, resting my spoon in the bowl. ‘Rach goes to the bakery down the street and buys this white bread that’s so fluffy and soft, she calls it the Cloud. She can only get the Cloud on holidays at Hawks Nest.’
‘Oh, I’ll have some, please,’ said Justin.
The patio was kissed with mid-morning light and the kids ran in and out, yelling and slamming the screen door, conscious only of themselves. The eight of us sat around the glass table, bantering over the morning paper, headlines, footy scores, burnt bacon, and the expert coffee Andrew brewed, a plate of hot-cross buns slathered with butter placed in the centre of the table. The sun warmed my skin and I relaxed back in my chair, resting my hands on my belly, content in the thought that Jon and Justin were by my side and near their baby. The way they laughed and chatted with our friends, it felt as if they’d always been a part of our lives.
As the boys left for home they high-fived the kids, shook the husbands’ hands and embraced my two best friends, a chorus of goodbyes filling the lounge room. I wouldn’t see them again until the twelve-week scan. I knew the next six weeks would be hard: dreaded nausea and extreme fatigue.
We walked outside, just the three of us.
‘Thanks so much for asking us to come and stay. We keep saying this but we can’t thank you enough for everything,’ Jon said, stopping by the car.
Labour of Love Page 12
