by BJ Harvey
“Yes, I’ll page you. Now go. Be a doctor. Save a life and all that.” I shoo him away and walk towards the ladies room to freshen up.
Two hours later I’m planted on the couch at home, staring at the blank television screen in shock.
Pregnant. I’m fucking pregnant. Again. Four and a half years after the guilt of losing my first baby consumed me, I’m facing the same predicament again.
Alone, pregnant, and scared shitless.
The difference this time is that there is no way I’m not having this baby. Daniel isn’t Beau. He is as far from Beau as anyone can be. Picture Mother Theresa and the Devil, that is the wide expanse that is the difference between Daniel Winters and Beau Gregory.
I know that whatever happens, or doesn’t happen between the two of us, Daniel will always be there for his child.
But I can’t tell him. Not yet.
He’ll want me back, but it will just be for the baby, and we both deserve more than that. Having paged Noah as promised after my appointment, we found a spare on call room, and he held me while I cried my eyes out. I didn’t tell him that I wasn’t with Daniel anymore. I just said I was in shock. Who would think that I would be in the 1% of people who actually get pregnant with an IUD on board.
Not me!
After peeing on the stick, the lines came up pretty much straight away, confirming that I was indeed very pregnant. Then the clinic nurse came in and drew some blood before the doctor instructed me to change into a gown and lay down on the bed. I put my feet into the stirrups on the bed and the doctor explained that she needed to perform an ultrasound to check on the position of my IUD to determine whether it was safe to remove it. When she located the IUD and the amniotic sac containing my baby, she safely removed the offending, and total failure of a contraception device from inside of me and instructed me to get dressed again. Once she’d given me instructions to get some prenatal vitamins and enough information pamphlets to inform a third world country, I was told to make an appointment in six weeks’ time for a scan at the end of my first trimester.
Me, Makenna Lewis. Age 24. From Chicago, Illinois.
Pregnant.
Again.
I left work after my appointment, somehow making it home on the L and walking the few blocks to our place before setting myself down on the couch and staring at the blank television. I’ve been sitting here for the past twenty minutes reevaluating the current state of my life.
This was the last thing I thought I’d have thrown at me. But what’s the saying, when life gives you lemons, mix with tequila and salt and have a fucking good time? Well since I can’t partake in my friend Jose for the next nine months, I might as well make lemonade.
And then there’s Daniel.
a.k.a. My Baby Daddy.
How am I supposed to tell him? I don’t want him to take me back because of some obligation to his child. It would always be at the back of my mind. I would always think that he is with me because I’m carrying his baby.
People successfully raise children apart all the time these days, it can be done, but I do want him back. Every step I’ve taken in the past three weeks has been towards making myself worthy for him, becoming the woman he deserves me to be. Not a scared hollow shell of a woman who holds men at length to protect herself.
It’s in that moment that I know what I have to do. I grab the phone and dial the number that I long ago committed to memory. It rings a few times in my ear before it’s picked up. My heart is beating out of my chest. This is like history repeating itself.
“Mom, I’m coming home.”
I rent a car and start the two hour drive out to my parents’ house. It’s been a while since I’ve been out to see my folks, but we constantly call each other and since moving back from Ohio four years ago, things have been great.
They always accepted my relationship with Beau, but I knew they didn’t like it. They’ve always wanted me to be happy, and as Dad always told me, “as long as you’re happy, Kenny, we’re happy.”
And I thought I was happy. I truly did.
I’m a bundle of nerves now. Noah knows I’m pregnant, I know I’m pregnant, and soon Kate will know I’m pregnant too. I left Kate a note asking if she could come visit me this weekend. I’ll know when she reads the note because she’ll start blowing up my phone.
The last time I ran back home like this was when I left Beau. Kate picked me up from the airport and drove me straight out there. I stayed with my parents for two weeks while I tried to piece myself back together. Kate staged an intervention and kidnapped me after that, moving me into her townhouse and telling me I had to start living or else life would leave me behind. So that’s what I did. I went back to school, finished my training and got a job at Northwestern. And the rest, they say, is history.
Before I left, I called my boss and explained the situation. She wrote me off for the week, telling me to take care of myself and always make sure I had saltine crackers and ginger ale nearby to help combat the morning sickness.
Here’s the thing I’ve found with being pregnant. Everyone wants to give you advice. When I went to the pharmacy to get my prenatal vitamins, the middle-aged shop assistant took great pleasure in patting my non-existent baby bump and asking me all the important details.
How far along are you?
When are you due?
Is your husband over the moon?
I got my own back, though. The look on her face when I explained how lucky I was not to be an elephant with a two year gestation period was priceless. As was my parting comment about not knowing who the father is “Because I went through a particularly slutty phase four weeks ago,” definitely didn’t slip by unnoticed. I had a huge smile on my face when I walked out of the store with a bag of pills and a brochure she’d slipped in the bag about STDs. Fucking hilarious!
I pull into my parent’s driveway and feel a wash of calm instantly come over me. This is home. This is where I feel centered, where I feel anchored. It doesn’t matter what is going on, or the confusing situation I now find myself in with the baby, and Daniel, and not knowing how to go about getting him back.
I know Mom and Dad will help me, and that’s what I need right now. Parental wisdom by the bucket load.
“Kenny!” I hear my dad yell out as I step out of my rental. Dumping my bag at the bottom of the porch steps, I take them two at a time and rush into his open arms, bursting into tears the moment his arms wrap tightly around me.
“Baby girl,” he murmurs as I hiccup and snort in his ear. The emotion of the past month overwhelms me.
“Hi, Daddy,” I say, pulling back and wiping my face and nose on my sleeve in a most unladylike way.
“Why the tears?”
“Happy to see you?” I say, smiling through the tears.
“I call bullshit.”
“I do too,” I say sadly.
“A boy?” he asks all knowing.
“THE boy.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you’ve come home then, isn’t it? We’ll get you sorted out lickety split. Your mom’s even made pot roast for supper.”
“I’ve missed you guys so much,” I say, starting to tear up again. Damn pregnancy hormones. What the hell?
“Hey now, my Kenny has never been much of a crier. A yeller, a screamer, and yes, a bit of a scrapper, but never a crier.”
“Yeah well, I think that’s about to change. Let’s get inside so I can tell you and Mom together.”
With furrowed brows and a long stare, he nods towards the door before grabbing my bag from the bottom of the steps and following me inside.
“Makenna? Is that you?” I hear my mom call out from the kitchen. I follow the sound of her voice until I see her standing by the kitchen counter, her face beaming the moment she sees me.
“Oh my lord, baby girl. I swear you get more beautiful every day.”
“Mom….” I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tight as I bury my face into her shoulder.
“Mac, what’s going
on? Are you in trouble or something? Please don’t tell me that waste of space Beau Gregory has been bothering you.”
“NO! Hell, no! He wouldn’t dare, Mom.”
“It’s a man though, isn’t it? You’ve met someone. I can tell by the look in your eye.”
“Yes. And I think I’ve screwed it all up.”
“Never say that, dear. I’ll make you a coffee, and we’ll talk this all out,” she says, turning to put the kettle on.
“Ah, I’ll just have a water, please.”
“Water?”
“Ah, yeah, I’m trying to cut back on the caffeine,” I explain.
“Right. And how’s Kate? I miss that pretty girl’s face almost as much as yours.”
“Yes, that little fire cracker used to always keep us on our toes,” Dad comments, joining us in the kitchen.
“She’s great. She’s working today so couldn’t come up with me. And I’ve got a few days off work now anyway.”
“A few days off in the middle of the week, Mac?” Mom murmurs, not missing a beat.
“Ah, well, I’ve been unwell, so my boss gave me the rest of the week off.”
“Really? What’s wrong? Have you seen a doctor?” Dad cuts in, putting the back of his hand on my forehead. Forever the worry wart.
“Yes, I have, and I’m okay. Well, I will be. It’s kind of what I came here to talk to you about.” I take a deep breath, bracing myself for the disappointment, the condemnation.
I go to take a seat, but suddenly stumble as a wave of nausea crashes over me. “Shit” I spit out, running to the kitchen sink and spitting chunks down the drain.
“Mac!” my mother cries behind me as I try waving her off.
Gulp. Way to go, bubba. That’s one way to make your presence known, isn’t it?
“Come take a seat, sweetheart. I’ll get you something to calm your stomach. Is it the stomach flu? You came home for some Mom and Dad TLC?” She looks at me with concern as she wipes my mouth with a wet cloth that my father must have grabbed for her.
“Not exactly,” I start to say, pausing while I come up with the right words. “Seems like you’re going to be grandparents in about eight months’ time.”
The whole house goes deathly quiet. You could seriously hear a pin drop it was that fucking quiet.
“Oh, Mac, that is fantastic, baby!” she shrieks in my ear as I’m enveloped in a mom bear hug. “Oh, John, I’m going to be a nana!”
I hear my dad chuckling as he hugs me from behind, and I’m suddenly the meat in a Lewis family sandwich. I immediately feel calm and secure. This why I came home, for this. Exactly this.
“Well I don’t know about you, but I definitely need to sit down to absorb this, and I’m guessing you came home because you’re a little freaked out about it?” Mom asks, smoothing my hair down and cupping my cheek like she’s always done since I was a little girl.
“You know me well,” I reply with a small smile.
“Right, well let’s just jump straight into Mac freak out level five and pull out the big guns, shall we? John, we need a pillow and a blanket and some tissues. I’ll bring in some hot chocolate and cookies. We’re gonna hash this out.
“You best be telling me about this boy that’s got you in such a tangle too, missy,” dad murmurs as he leaves the room.
“Okay, Daddy,” I say as I walk through to the living room and set up camp on the couch. This has always been the way that we’ve dealt with any problems in my life. From my suspension in elementary school for pushing over the school bully who was picking on Kate, to my detention for skipping school with Beau during high school, right up until I came home from Ohio a crying mess with a black eye after my miscarriage four years ago. We all sit on the couch with pillows and blankets and talk it out, the three of us, as it’s always been. Of course, Kate has been known to join in, but since I haven’t actually told her that I’m knocked up yet, she’s still blissfully unaware.
Once we’re all set up, Mom looks at me with that knowing look of hers and raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to start. “So, how did this happen?”
“Well, when a guy and a girl like each other, they like to…” I start explaining with a grin.
“Mac, quit it. I know how babies are made. I want to know how my future grandchild was made. Especially since, when I talked to you a month ago, you didn’t mention that you were seeing anyone seriously. I thought you were still just seeing those casual friends. You know, what do they call it these days, John?”
“Friends with benefits,” he replies deadpan, shifting around and failing to hide his awkwardness in discussing my sex life. Typical dad like behavior.
“Yes, friends with benefits. I thought you just had those. You told me you didn’t want a boyfriend.”
“Well, I wasn’t looking for one, that’s for sure. But Daniel kind of snuck up on me.”
“Daniel. That’s a nice strong name. What’s his surname? Where’s he from?”
“Dad, I’m not in high school anymore. It’s not about who they hang around with and who their family are. He’s a great guy, but I’ve screwed it all up, twice,” I say, tears welling in my eyes. What the hell is with all the tears? Am I going to be a great big leaky blimp for the next nine months?
“Now, now, I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t be fixed. Do you love him?” Mom asks, grabbing my hand and squeezing it gently to reassure me.
“Yeah I do, but just when I thought I’d gotten to a place where I could tell him and actually be with him, I ran away. I think this time, though, I broke his heart the same time I was breaking mine.”
“Well, if you love him, and now you’re having a baby together, surely you can work it out?” Dad asks, forever the optimist.
“I only found out today, and you’re the only people that I’ve told other than my friend Noah from work.”
“You haven’t even told Kate?” Mom asks, sounding shocked. “You and Kate tell each other everything.”
“I know, and I will, but this whole thing has kind of thrown me for a loop. And what if I miscarry again? I want this baby this time. I don’t know if I could handle going through that again.”
“We can’t know what will happen, Kenny, but if you take it easy and listen to the doctors, I’m sure you’ll be fine. But you do need to tell this Daniel fellow that he’s going to be a father. He deserves to know. Whether you are together or not, and whether you work this out or not, he will always be a part of your baby’s life.” Dad finishes off his speech with a kiss on my temple. “But if you love him, and I can tell that you do, you’ll find a way. You always do.”
I turn to Mom, and she has started crying too. “Oh, Mom, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry because of me.”
“I’m not. I just forgot how sweet your father is. He’s right. If you love Daniel, and you want to be with Daniel, you need to pull your big girl panties on and go get your man. Broken hearts can be mended, mistakes can be forgiven, you just need to admit to them. And anyway, I want to meet this man who made my baby girl fall in love. Because I know you, Mac. He must be one hell of a man for you to break your vow.”
“He is. I even think he’s part superhero,” I whisper to her with a grin.
“Well then, as long as he hides his spandex suit from me, we’ll get along just fine,” Dad pipes up, making us laugh.
Feeling a lot better about myself and the situation, I manage to eat two helpings of dinner before crawling into bed a little after 8 p.m. just in time for my phone to start blowing up with text messages from Kate.
Kate: What the hell, Mac? Are you okay?
Mac: I’m okay. Need to tell you something, though.
Kate: Tell me now.
Mac: I’ll be home on the weekend. You don’t have to come.
Kate: Don’t be a doofus. Of course I’m coming up. You need me, I’m there. Anytime, anywhere.
Mac: Doofus?
Kate: You sure you’re okay, babe?
Mac: I will be. See you tomorrow night. You okay there
by yourself?
Kate: Always. Love you, babe.
Mac: Love you too.
Unable to sleep, I lie there on my back, snuggling my childhood covers in my childhood home, and dream of what my life with a child might be like, what I want it to be like, and front and center in my dream is the man I want to share it with.
In a moment of weakness, I grab my phone and type out a text, sending it before I can reconsider what I’m doing. Three weeks of no contact and it takes a surprise pregnancy to spur me on. Go figure.
Mac: Lying in bed staring at the ceiling, and all I can think about is a certain superhero who always makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the room.
Daniel: That’s easy because Superman only ever has eyes for Lois Lane
Mac: I want to be that girl. I want to try and be that girl for you.
Daniel: You don’t need to try. You’re all I ever see, gorgeous
Mac: I’m sorry for not believing in us
That message gets no reply. I guess that means the ball’s in my court. Now all I need to do is swallow my pride and get him back once and for all.
I spend the next day lazing about with Mom while Dad is working around the farm. We bake, we clean, and then she shows me all of the stuff from my baby box that she has kept. Everything related to me as a baby had been painstakingly preserved and kept.
Mom and Dad tried to have more children after me, but she was diagnosed with secondary infertility so couldn’t have any more children. They kept everything they could from my childhood, and I mean EVERYTHING. From the end of my umbilical cord stump that fell off a week after I was born, to the first lock of hair she ever cut off, to the first onesie she ever bought for me after finding out she was pregnant. Mom had even kept all of my baby teeth in named bags. Had it been anyone else, I would have declared them certifiably insane, but as the only child she could ever carry to full term, I love that she cherishes my childhood so much.
