by Portia Moore
The doctor steps out after that and tells Kam that he can come back in, and once he’s seated, she looks at us both. “So we’ll be able to do an ultrasound today,” she says, and Kam and I both look at each other in shock. I hadn’t expected that. My limited knowledge of how these things go is that an ultrasound is a separate appointment, but the doctor explains that the clinic has its own team and equipment for it, so scheduling it out for a different day isn’t necessary.
“Oh, wow,” I whisper to Kam as we wait for the doctor to go and get the ultrasound tech. “I can’t believe we’re going to get to see our baby today!”
“I know,” he says, squeezing my hand. “I’m so excited. We won’t know if it’s a boy or a girl, though, right?”
“No, I think that’s later,” I tell him. “But still, we’ll get a picture and everything.” I smile at him, and I see every bit of my happiness reflected in his eyes. It warms me down to my toes. I can’t believe how happy I am, how perfect all of this is. How right it all feels.
The tech sets up her equipment and introduces herself, asking Kam where he went to school before this when he mentions his transfer. She perks up immediately when he mentions Purdue. “Oh, I went there too for my classes!” she exclaims. “It really is a great school, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Kam agrees. “It was hard to leave, to be honest. But Megan’s family is here, and so we wanted her to be close, and I wanted to be close to her. It was an easy decision.” The way he explains it rolls off of his tongue so smoothly, without any of the extra baggage or drama that came with it, and it’s easy to believe that it was that simple, that we’re a normal couple who picked Chicago because my normal family lives here and we’re having a baby. That none of that other stuff matters at all.
I gasp aloud when the screen crackles to life, and the tech points out our baby. “It’s very small,” she says, and it’s true. I would never have known what to look for if she hadn’t pointed it out. But it’s there, a small blip on the screen. Our blip. Kam’s fingers thread through mine as I squeeze his hand. I can feel tears coming to my eyes as I look at it, and I try to remember every bit of this moment, the first time that Kam and I see our baby. It’s as magical as I hoped, and I hear Kam sniff a little too, almost as if he’s teared up at the sight, although I can’t bring myself to look away to see if that’s true.
“So you’re eleven weeks along,” the tech says, and I smile happily at her, thinking that means I’m almost through that treacherous first three months already, and if the articles I’ve been reading are true, my morning sickness should start getting easier too.
“Wow, that means it must have happened that first night I came back,” Kam says, chuckling as he looks at me. “I couldn’t wait to be inside of you. I guess my guys didn’t want to leave,” he whispers in my ear and winks at me. I flush red and give him a playful nudge, but then my blood runs cold when I realize what he just said.
That was the night that Alana came back.
The night that I blacked out, that Ian swears he and Alana slept together.
No!
I can’t get off the table fast enough. I throw the napkins that the tech gave me to wipe off my stomach in the trash and pull my shirt down, scrambling off as Kam looks at me in surprise.
“I have to pee, really bad,” I say quickly as an excuse, hurrying out towards the bathroom as I try to get my emotions under control. But as I shut the door behind me, the shock is overwhelming. Fear rises up in my throat and chokes me as I take in the ramifications of this news.
If I’m eleven weeks along, and it happened that night, it might not be Kam’s baby. And if it’s not Kam’s baby…
I fall to my knees just in time, grabbing my hair as I throw up violently. All of the tea and everything I’ve eaten that morning comes up in a rush as I puke for what seems like forever, tears running down my face.
When I can’t vomit anymore, I stand up shakily and run a paper towel under the faucet, wiping off my face and dabbing under my eyes as I look at my pale expression in the mirror. In a matter of minutes, everything has gone from a perfect dream to the possibility of a waking nightmare.
Kam is waiting for me when I step out, his face a mask of concern. “Megan, are you okay?” he asks, reaching for me, and I let him because I know if I pull away, he’ll know something is up.
“It was just nerves,” I tell him quickly. “And the baby making me feel sick. I threw up, and I feel better now.”
The tech looks completely unfazed. I’m sure she’s had dozens of women have to run out to puke during appointments. She sets up a date for our next scan with us, and I put on my most cheerful face, pretending to be as excited and happy as I was before as she gives us our picture and walks us out to the receptionist's desk to schedule our next appointment. Kam stays by my side the entire time, his hand on my back or arm as if he can’t bear to not be touching me.
It’ll be alright, I try to tell myself over and over again.
But the minute we’re driving home, I pull out my phone and text Helen.
It’s important. I have to see you as soon as I can. An emergency.
If it’s not Kam’s baby it’s not your baby!
If it’s not Kam’s baby it’s not your fucking baby, bitch!
I can’t stop hearing that in my head, on repeat like a refrain, a broken record that I can’t turn off. It keeps going for the entire ride home, and I can’t tell if it’s my voice in my head or Alana’s shouting at me, if it’s me that feels that way or her. I try to keep my face blank, to not let on how noisy it is in my head right now, how completely upside down I feel, but when Kam asks me what’s wrong I know I haven’t done as good of a job hiding it as I thought I was.
All it takes is one look at his face, lined with concern, and the sound of his anxious voice to tell me that he’s picked up on my inner turmoil. It should make me feel good that he knows me so well. After all, isn’t that what every girl wants, a man who’s that attuned to her emotions and moods and cares that much?
It just so happens that what I’m worried about could blow up our entire life, our peaceful little idyllic bubble that we’ve been in ever since I found out I was pregnant.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I tell him carefully, trying to keep my voice even and calm. “I’ve just gotten really tired all of a sudden. It’s nothing.”
He looks at me curiously, and I can tell that he’s not buying my excuse. “If something was wrong, you’d tell me, right?” he asks quietly. “I mean, after we had that talk, we agreed we were partners. You promised that you’d let me in and be honest no matter what.”
Tears spring to my eyes, guilt flooding me. I feel worse than ever, like I’m betraying Kam by not being honest with him. But I know I need to talk to Helen. I need someone to tell me what the right thing to do is.
There’s dead silence in the car as we pull up to the apartment, the tension in the air thick and heavy, and as he parks, Kam looks over at me, his expression pleading.
“Please, Megan, just tell me what’s the matter. I know you. I know something’s wrong. Just talk to me, please, like we agreed.”
“I want to talk to Helen,” I say, looking down at my hands in my lap. I feel like I sound like a petulant child, but I’m afraid of what will happen if I blurt it out here, now. I have some small hope that Helen will tell me this is ridiculous, that of course it’s not Ian’s baby, that one night when Kam and I have had sex dozens of times doesn’t mean anything. “I’m hearing Alana’s voice again,” I tell him, trying to think of anything to placate him until I can talk to Helen. It’s partly true; I don’t know if the thoughts in my head are mine or hers.
If it’s not Kam’s baby it’s not your baby!
“I’m going to tell you,” I whisper, looking up at him. “Just as soon as I get some control of things.”
My phone rings and I pick it up the second that I see that it’s Helen, glancing apologetically at Kam, who looks more tense and worried than ever.
&n
bsp; “I’m ten minutes away from the apartment,” Helen tells me. “Just go inside and try to stay calm until I get there, okay?”
“Okay,” I say softly, trying to remember to breathe the way she taught me as I hang up the phone and grab my purse, following Kam up the stairs. He’s so tense he’s almost shaking, looking more frazzled than I’ve ever seen him. He’s been so good at always being comforting, always being there for me, but I can see the cracks starting to show, and I know it’s my fault. I’m too much. This is too hard. And if Alana comes back…
Kam looks up at me worriedly, sitting down on the couch. As I join him, he reaches for my hand with both of his, looking down at it as he caresses the back with his thumb. It’s almost as if he needs comforting as much as I do, and I’m overcome with the sudden urge to cling to him, to try and pretend that this doesn’t matter, that it can all go away if we just have each other.
But then Kam clears his throat, breaking the tense silence, and the next words that he says destroy any illusion I might have had.
“What do you think would happen if Alana came back?” he asks cautiously, and tears fill my eyes, the lump in my throat suddenly almost choking me. I don’t know what to say. I can’t think. It’s the worst possible outcome, and until an hour ago, I believed that it wasn’t possible, that we were past that. That Kam and our baby were my protection against that…but now it’s all changed.
“Do you think she’d hurt the baby?” Kam asks, and I feel the question like a stab in the heart. At the same time, I love him more than ever for being so worried about our child. Our child.
If it’s not Kam’s baby, it’s not your baby!
“I don’t know,” I say softly, chewing on my lip. “I don’t know very much about her. She’s just a voice in my head sometimes. When she’s present, I’m not here, and vice versa.”
I feel like I know less than ever. Everything has changed in an instant. Before this, I was sure that Alana would never have wanted a baby, and most certainly not Kam’s baby, but now there’s a possibility that it isn’t his. If it’s Ian’s…that might…no, it will change everything. That’s something Alana would fight for, even if she’d never planned on being a mother. She doesn’t want me to have Ian, and she won’t want me to have his baby, either.
I fight back tears as the visions I had of Kam and me—happy and thriving and stable, together in our little home raising our baby together, our life untainted by Alana and her past and her marriage to Ian—start to disappear, going down the drain in a matter of seconds. I don’t know if Kam will understand this, how he could possibly understand this. And even if he could accept that I had no control over what Alana did, that doesn’t mean he’ll want to raise another man’s child. He’s been beyond wonderful, everything that I could have hoped for in a partner and more. But everyone has their limits. And this very well could be his.
And Ian. Ian. My stomach flips as I think about him, about what his reaction to this would be. If he knows, if he finds out, he’ll never stop fighting for Alana. Whatever understanding we came to before would be over. He’d always be there, wanting his wife, his child, his family—the one that he thinks is real and belongs to him. I’ll always be torn in two…unless Alana just takes over.
Like Cal did? Fear washes over me, turning my blood cold.
I remember Ian’s face in that small moment when he thought that the baby was his before he realized what I was telling him, how happy he was for that split second. There had been a second of unbridled joy on his face and I crushed it, any hope he might have had…and now mine is beginning to crumble. And I don’t know what to do.
“Megan?” Kam says my name, his voice slightly more urgent, and I realize I never answered his question, too lost in my own chaotic thoughts. “Would Alana hurt our baby?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper helplessly, looking down at my hands.
He’s quiet for a moment. When I glance over at him, I see a determined expression forming on his face. “We need to make a plan in case Alana comes back,” he says firmly. “In order to protect our baby, our life. We have to have that.”
Before I can think of a response or say anything, there’s a knock at the door, and then Helen walks in, looking as calm and poised as ever. “Hello Megan, Kam,” she says with a smile, faltering just a little as she picks up on the thick tension in the room. Before she can say another word or I can respond, Kam blurts out: “What do we do to stop Alana from coming back?”
Helen pauses for a split second, caught off guard, but collects herself almost immediately. She takes a seat across from us, smoothing her skirt over her knees as she looks between the two of us. “What happened?” she asks calmly, her voice taking on that tone that I recognize as her “management” tone, the one she uses to try to diffuse a tense situation.
“She’s hearing her again,” Kam says sharply, before I can get a word out. I look down, my heart hammering in my chest. I can tell how much this is getting to Kam, how he’s on the verge of losing his calm completely. I feel terrible that I’ve brought us to this point, that it’s me that’s turned our life so completely upside down.
“Kam, I need you to stay calm,” Helen says smoothly. “As I’ve said before, stress and tension won’t help Megan in these situations. She’s still with us, and everything is going to be fine.” She pauses for a second before continuing, giving Kam a moment. “I’d like to speak to Megan alone, briefly.”
Kam hesitates, clearly gearing up to argue, but I quickly put my hand over his and give him my most reassuring look. “Please Kam, I’d like to talk to Helen alone too. Can you just give us fifteen minutes?”
His expression is plainly irritated, but he stands up, bending to give me a kiss on the cheek. “Alright,” he says blandly, burying his emotions. “I’m going to go to the store then. Do you want anything?”
“Barbecue chips?” I ask, giving him a small smile, and his lips twitch at that, some of the tension leaving him at the ordinary request.
“Coming right up,” he tells me, giving me another quick peck on the cheek before glancing at Helen and then leaving.
When the door closes behind him, Helen comes to sit next to me on the couch, turning to face me. I take a deep breath. Helen gently reaches for my hand. “Tell me what’s happened,” she says soothingly, and I feel something break loose inside of me.
“I found out how many weeks along I am,” I tell her, miserable. I don’t want to say the rest out loud. Once I speak the words, there’s no taking them back, but I know I can’t get through this alone. I need help, I need guidance, and Helen is the only one who truly can advise me, who has the experience and knowledge to do so. Cal has lived it, but how can I trust him completely when he’s the alter? He won out over Chris the way Alana might win out over me if she knows the truth. Helen is the professional. I have to trust her.
“Based on that time frame, there’s…there’s a strong possibility that Ian might be the father,” I say softly, my words tense and formal.
Helen is quiet for a moment, her face carefully blank. “How does that make you feel?” she asks finally, her voice neutral.
I feel a spark of anger. I jerk my hand free, my voice rising slightly as the words spill out of me. “How do you think that makes me feel?” I ask indignantly. “I’m fucking terrified! If Ian is the father, then Alana will come back, and I keep hearing all of these thoughts…I can’t say for sure that it’s Alana in my head and not just me, but I haven’t been able to think clearly since the appointment this morning. Everything is a fog, and I just keep hearing it over and over—” Tears fill my eyes and spill down my face, my voice cracking and breaking as I start to cry in earnest. “What’s worse is if it’s Ian’s baby, then it’s Alana’s. Technically, it’s not my baby, and…and…”
Helen takes my hand back as my words dissolve into sobs, my shoulders shaking as I lose the ability to speak, and she gives me a moment to cry before handing me a tissue and looking at me intently. “Megan, this is why it�
��s so important for you to see yourself as one person. Of course it’s your baby. You’re the mother, you’re the one who will be carrying this child. You can’t think like that. This is your body. But this is why I have encouraged you to integrate Alana rather than fight her.”
So she can be the driving force like Cal is? Helen’s voice is soothing, her words logical, but it’s a small comfort. The thought that I can be in control, that Alana won’t come back, that my baby and my relationship will hold her at bay, has been what’s gotten me through this so far. Anything else is terrifying, unthinkable right now. “I don’t know what to do,” I whisper. “I promised I’d tell Kam everything, but how do I tell him this?”
“This can be a very sensitive issue—” Helen begins carefully, and I jump at the insinuation I hear in her words.
“So, you don’t think I should tell Kam?” I ask eagerly, hoping for just that: permission to put this off, to keep my world as safe as possible for a little longer.
“I don’t condone lying,” Helen says firmly, not giving me the out that I hoped for. “But whatever you decide, Megan, we need to have an earnest and serious conversation about you accepting Alana.” She pauses and takes a deep breath, making sure she has my full attention. “Furthermore, you need to tell Ian about this development, in case Alana does make a reappearance.”
I look at her in horror, speechless, but she’s unfazed. “I suggest hypnosis, as I have before, so that we can reach Alana preemptively.” I stare at her but she’s still talking, and her next words make my blood run cold.
“Before things spin out of control.”
I start trembling when I hear her say that. I can’t help it. I’m terrified at the prospect of letting Alana in again, of losing control, of losing everything.