The Perfect Child

by Berry, Lucinda

  “Don’t tell anyone, Mom, okay? Please? Promise? Not even Dad, because you know he can’t keep a secret, and I don’t want Allison to know this time.” My miscarriages hurt her almost as much as they did me. I couldn’t do that to her again. I didn’t want any of us going through it another time.

  My mom squeezed my arms. “You’re not just a teensy bit excited?”

  I shook my head. I’d trained myself a long time ago not to get excited. That was when you got hurt.

  Nothing had happened by the time I went to my obstetrician appointment the following week, but that didn’t mean anything. Just because there hadn’t been any bleeding didn’t mean I was still pregnant. I’d been down that road before.

  “Do you want to wait for your husband?” the obstetrician asked. I couldn’t remember her name. I had just picked the first one on the list that took my insurance. I hadn’t even checked her credentials. I couldn’t help but notice how different it was from the first time I’d gotten pregnant, and I would’ve laughed if it weren’t so sad.

  “No, you can go ahead and do it,” I said. I turned my head to the side. I’d learned not to look. It made it easier.

  She squirted the lube on my stomach and brought the transducer to it. The heartbeat was unmistakable. It pattered along like a train.

  “Oh my God,” I said, tears welling in my eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

  CASE #5243

  INTERVIEW:

  PIPER GOLDSTEIN

  They kept asking me about Hannah’s pregnancy like I was hiding something, but I wasn’t. I had never had any clue Hannah was pregnant. None.

  “Hannah didn’t look pregnant the last time I saw her before she gave birth. She was always so small and tiny, so you’d think I would’ve noticed, but I didn’t.” I was usually good at picking up on those things, but she hadn’t even looked like she’d gained weight. “I was shocked to find out she’d had a baby.”

  “Wait.” Luke held up his hand. “I thought you told us you were involved with them continuously for two years.”

  “I was.”

  “But you didn’t know she was pregnant until after the baby was born? So that would mean you didn’t see them for at least a few months.” He scribbled something in his notebook.

  “I suppose.”

  “So you don’t have any idea what happened in their home between November and January, do you?”

  I shook my head.

  “I’m sorry, Piper. I need you to speak your answers.”

  “No, but it doesn’t matter. That wouldn’t have changed anything.”

  He looked at me like he didn’t believe me any more than I believed myself.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  HANNAH BAUER

  “I can’t even describe what it feels like to be carrying a child after everything I’ve been through,” I told Allison over the phone. My secret had lasted two days. I’d grieved the idea of having a baby like it was a real death, so it was like finding out your grandfather was alive after you’d been to his funeral. It was that shocking. I couldn’t help myself—I had to tell her.

  “Have you told Christopher yet?”

  “No, I still haven’t.”

  “I wish you’d hurry up and tell him. You have to tell him before dinner next weekend because he’s going to take one look at my face and know something’s up.”

  I laughed. She’d always been a terrible liar. “I will.”

  I was afraid of Christopher’s reaction. What if he wasn’t happy about it and his negativity affected the baby? Made something bad happen to it? It seemed so silly since all we’d wanted for years was a baby, but I was afraid he might not want it now that we had Janie. I kept putting it off, but I couldn’t put it off much longer.

  We were in the middle of an episode of Homeland that night when I just blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”

  I wasn’t even planning on it. It just came out.

  “What did you say?” he asked.

  “I’m pregnant.” The words still felt strange in my mouth, even though I’d talked about it with Mom and Allison.

  “What—how—I just . . . how did that happen? I don’t get it . . .” He shook his head in disbelief.

  I smiled. “Let me explain it to you. First, the woman has eggs, and the man releases his sperm—”

  He cut me off. “This isn’t funny. Seriously, how did you get pregnant?”

  I flicked the TV off and turned to face him. “I don’t know. I just did.”

  The silence stretched out between us. He stood up and paced the living room, something he only did when he was nervous. I’d watched him do it in the scrub room as he prepared for a big surgery. My stomach churned. I’d been afraid of this. I wasn’t a superstitious person, but I was obsessed with keeping things positive in regard to the baby. Somehow, it felt like keeping all the negative stuff away from the baby might be the key to keeping it.

  He stopped, put his hands on his hips, and asked, “How far along are you?”

  “Almost three months.”

  “Three months?” His mouth dropped open. “How are you three months pregnant and just telling me now?”

  “I just found out. I didn’t know.”

  “How do you not know you’re pregnant?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Excuse me? Do you know what it feels like to be pregnant? I just felt really tired.”

  “What about your period?”

  “I didn’t get it. I—”

  “That wasn’t a clue? How do you not get your period for three months and not think you’re pregnant?” He ran his hands through his hair.

  Anger stiffened my back. “You know what? Quit talking to me like I’m an idiot and acting like I was a teenager hiding her pregnancy. I had no clue. None. I didn’t even connect being so exhausted with my missed periods. I thought I was going into menopause.”

  He let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry. Really, I am. I’m just shocked. I don’t even know what to say.”

  “You could say congratulations,” I snapped. I stomped out of the living room and down the hall to our bedroom, slamming the door behind me.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHRISTOPHER BAUER

  Hannah went from not knowing she was pregnant to walking around the house with a dreamy look on her face and rubbing her stomach, even though it was still flat. She rested her hand on it like she could already feel the baby growing. Her face beamed with the glow of pregnancy, and I’d never seen her look happier.

  I tried to pretend I was happy and excited about the baby, but all I could think about was Janie and how it would affect her. She was the child in front of me. It was hard to feel close to a baby that was only real in discussion. Love flooded me the instant I thought about being Janie’s dad, and I kept waiting for the sudden rush of love for our new baby, but it just didn’t come. It felt surreal, like it wasn’t really happening or like it was happening to someone else.

  “We still haven’t really talked about the baby,” Hannah said as we sat around the coffee table putting together our latest jigsaw puzzle. She knew me too well, and despite my attempts to appear excited, my misgivings weren’t lost on her.

  “Okay,” I said slowly. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “Really?” She looked perturbed.

  “I wish I could be excited about the baby like you are, but honestly, how can I? You know it’s throwing a huge wrench in our barely stable life.” Normally, I would’ve grabbed her hand, but she’d been so cold to me lately that she’d probably just pull away anyway, so I didn’t bother.

  “Lots of people have two kids.” Her words were as cold as her body language.

  “Honey, you know this isn’t the same thing.” Any ounce of normalcy and stability we’d created was going to come crashing down. She knew that, too, even though she wouldn’t admit it.

  “I’m not sure you’re connected to the baby, and I’m worried about how it’s going to affect things once it’s here. I thought it might help to talk about your feelings,”
she said in her therapist voice. We had both developed them over the past few months. We spent so much time in therapy learning how to talk about feelings with Janie that we’d become minitherapists in our conversations with each other. I was just as guilty as she was.

  “I am struggling.” There was no use hiding what she already knew. She waited for me to go on. I ran my hands through my hair nervously. I didn’t want to upset her, but I had to tell the truth. “I’m worried about how it’s going to disrupt our lives. I’m afraid of how Janie is going to react when she finds out.”

  “She probably won’t even care. She doesn’t have the ability to think six minutes into the future, let alone six months,” Hannah said.

  “But what about after the baby’s here?” I asked. I didn’t know what she’d do when she found out she had to share us.

  Hannah laughed. “She’s definitely going to struggle. That’s a given. She is going to be a nightmare once the baby’s here.”

  “I didn’t realize you’d thought about that.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Of course I did. It was the first thing I thought about. Janie’s always my first thought before anything else.” I could tell by the way she narrowed her eyes that I’d upset her again.

  “I don’t want to fight. I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m just scared.”

  “I don’t know why you’re so scared. I’m the one who’s going to have to be here all day dealing with the drama.” Her voice had an edge to it.

  I sighed. “Please, let’s not get into a fight. We’ve been doing so well lately.”

  “I’m not trying to fight. It just bums me out how different you are about the baby. You were so excited when we adopted Janie, and it’s been almost three weeks now, and you’ve barely said anything about the baby.” Her lips pulled into a frown. Much like her smile lit up her entire face, her frown darkened it in the same way.

  “Come here,” I said, motioning toward her. She slid down the couch and into my arms. I squeezed her tightly. “I’ll do better, okay? I’m really excited about the baby. I am. Things are going to be just fine.” It was the first time in our marriage that I had consciously lied to her.

  TWENTY-NINE

  HANNAH BAUER

  Allison stopped by with more bags of hand-me-down clothes. She’d gone through all Dylan and Caleb’s baby clothes and pulled out anything that was gender neutral because we didn’t want to know what we were having. My family was thrilled about my pregnancy, which made up for Christopher’s lack of enthusiasm. They doted on me constantly.

  “I’m so excited for you to be a mom,” Allison said. She quickly slapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, I didn’t mean to say that.” Her eyes darted around the room to see if Janie had heard, but she was too busy playing Uno with the boys to notice. “You’re already a mom. I just meant . . . I just—”

  I interrupted her. “It’s fine. I know what you meant, and honestly, I feel the same way.”

  She looked relieved. “I know this adoption has been difficult for you, and I hope you know I’ve always supported your decision, but it’s always made me sad that you never got to carry a baby. I’m so glad you finally get the opportunity. No woman should have to miss it. It’s so magical,” she said.

  I giggled. “It is, and I’m loving everything about this because I never thought I’d get to have the experience. I don’t even care that I’m gaining weight.”

  My breasts had already grown two sizes, but when you went from barely there to something to put in a bra, the only one who noticed was your husband. I couldn’t wait until my stomach swelled with a pregnancy bump.

  “Are you nervous about tonight?” she asked.

  Tonight was the night we were going to tell Janie about the pregnancy. I still thought we should wait until we were further along, but as soon as we’d hit the four-month mark and the odds of miscarriage had dropped significantly, Christopher had been ready to break the news to her.

  “I’m not worried about Janie because I don’t think she’s even going to notice or care. It’s too abstract for her until she actually has something to see. I’m worried because I think Christopher will be disappointed with her lack of reaction,” I said. “Are you sure you guys can’t stay for dinner?”

  “As much as I’d love to, we’re going to see some movie I’ve never heard of, but Greg says everybody loves it.”

  “You could’ve just left the boys with us.” She hadn’t left the boys with us one time since Janie, and I felt bad about it. “I wish you would’ve.”

  “Oh, we’re taking them with us. Didn’t I tell you? We’re letting them see a movie at the same time. Same theater. Different movies. It’s happening.” She pointed toward the back door, where their squeals and laughter let us know they were still having fun. “Hold on to that one tightly. It won’t be long until you guys aren’t cool enough to hang out with.”

  Later that evening, Christopher walked into the dining room carrying a cake. I eyed him curiously. The cake hadn’t been part of our plan. He grinned and set it down in front of Janie. There was a giant blue stork carrying a wrapped-up baby in its beak etched in frosting on top.

  “Daddy, I like the birdie,” she squealed.

  “Do you see what the bird is carrying?” he asked.

  Janie nodded enthusiastically, always eager to give the right answer. “A baby!”

  He grabbed my hand and pulled me next to him, wrapping his arm around my waist. I held the shirt behind my back, waiting for my cue.

  “That’s right. We have something really exciting to tell you about a baby.” He squeezed my side.

  I pulled out the T-shirt from behind my back and held it out in front of me. The neon-purple letters proclaimed, I AM A BIG SISTER.

  “Janie, this is your special T-shirt—”

  She grabbed it from me before I could read her what it said. “It’s pretty.” She started pulling off the shirt she had on.

  Christopher laid his hand on her shoulder. “Slow down for a second, kiddo.”

  “There’s a special message on your shirt just for you,” I said.

  “Really?” She flipped it over and stared at the letters. “What’s it say?”

  “It says, ‘I am a big sister,’” I said.

  She looked from me to Christopher and back again, totally lost.

  We knelt in front of her. Christopher pointed to my stomach. “Your mommy is growing a baby in her stomach. Once the baby is big enough, it’s going to come out of her stomach and become part of our family. That means you’re going to be a big sister.”

  Janie poked my stomach. “There’s a baby in here?”

  I nodded. “Soon you’ll be able to feel it move around inside me. It will kick and do all kinds of other things. It’ll be so much fun.”

  She looked up at me. “How does it come out of here?” She poked me again, harder this time.

  “Gentle when you touch my stomach, honey,” I said, placing my hand on top of hers. “Sometimes the doctors have to take the baby out of mommies’ stomachs, and other times, the baby comes out of a mommy’s vagina.”

  She crinkled her nose. “Yuck. That’s gross.”

  Christopher and I laughed.

  “Can we go outside?” she asked. She pulled her arms back into the shirt she’d been wearing previously, the big-sister shirt forgotten.

  “Are you excited to be a big sister?” Christopher asked.

  She looked at him with confusion, like she wasn’t really sure what he was asking and was trying to figure out the correct response because she loved nothing more than pleasing him. “Yes, I’m excited,” she said, but her voice was flat.

  I was determined to get Janie in school before the baby came. We’d given up on school for a while and agreed to give her more adjustment time, but all of that was different now. I wanted to get her settled while I still had the energy to help with the transition. I handled things this time and went with a different approach. I enrolled Janie in a traditional private school, o
ne that was more structured and only a few blocks from the hospital. Part of the admissions process was a half-day visit, and Janie was grinning from ear to ear when I picked her up afterward.

  “How’d it go?” I asked, buckling her into her car seat.

  “I met a new friend. Her name is Elodie, and she wants to be my friend too. She says I can be the boss of her,” she said. “I like this school.”

  She talked about Elodie until she went to bed that night. We didn’t think twice about saying yes when they called to tell us she’d been accepted. Before we’d had to lead her in kicking and screaming, but this time, she went willingly and waved goodbye like she couldn’t wait for me to leave.

  For the first two weeks, I obsessively checked my phone, waiting for the call to tell me that she’d acted out in some way, had an accident or bit a kid, but the call never came. She liked her new school and seemed happy there. She came home excited to show Christopher and me the projects she’d made, and it wasn’t long before our refrigerator was cluttered with her artwork. She called Elodie her best friend and said they were a secret team. Her teacher, Mrs. Tinney, raved about how great Janie was. She said she was one of the brightest kids in the class and had had one of the smoothest transitions she’d ever seen. We beamed with pride.

  With Janie in preschool four hours every day, I started planning for the baby. Allison and my mom teased me about it mercilessly, sending me funny texts throughout the day about nesting. I didn’t mind. I enjoyed every minute of it. I went through every closet and got rid of anything we hadn’t worn in the last two years. Once I’d gone through all the closets, I tackled the cupboards, throwing out old Tupperware and replacing broken sets of pots and pans. I organized all the towels and washcloths in the linen closet and the hallway. I rented a carpet cleaner from Home Depot and spent two days shampooing all the rugs. Normally, I wasn’t such an obsessive cleaner, but I loved it. I was getting rid of anything old and getting ready for something new.

  I cleaned out everything in the office and moved all the furniture to the garage so that we could make the office into the baby’s room. Back when we had thought having a child was a possibility, I had scoured Pinterest boards for baby-room ideas, but I’d deleted all my boards after we’d adopted Janie and had to start from scratch. I spent my evenings sitting next to the fire, scrolling through pictures of baby furniture and accessories. It was hard to believe that in less than two years we’d gone from spending our evenings cuddled up next to each other on the couch with our laptops open, flipping through hundreds of pictures of kids up for adoption, to preparing to welcome our second child into the world.