by Amy Marie
“Marie! Don’t say ‘shit’,” Nicole scolds from the kitchen. Giggling, I pull all the kids off me, give them each their own bear hug and send them back to the basement to play.
The short walk from the front entrance to the kitchen is filled with pictures of all three of us as kids growing up and now yearly pictures of all five, soon to be six, grandkids. A hint of a smile breaks out when I think about having my little bean’s picture up there soon. The unexpected notion shocks me.
The moment my foot hits the kitchen threshold the smell of chicken invades my senses and a wave of queasiness comes over me. Both women twist around just in time to see me cover my mouth and turn to run to the bathroom. I am met with a hard as stone chest when Trent grabs my arms stopping me. “Where ya goin’ so fast, sis?”
Fighting back the bile rising in my throat, I run around him to the bathroom, slamming the door and barely making it to the toilet to void the four crackers I ate on the way here.
My sister’s tiny fists begin to beat on the door just as the dry heaves begin. “Open the door, Erin! Are you okay?”
“Go away!” I bellow, trying to catch my breath.
The door flies open anyway, and Nicole, who looks to be just an older version of myself, bends down feeling my forehead. “Are you sick? You don’t feel warm.”
“What’s going on?” I hear my mother’s anxious voice say from behind us.
“Nothing. Just give me a minute, please.” Reaching for some toilet paper, I wipe the excess saltines away.
Everyone clears out of the bathroom and the looks on their faces tell me they don’t believe that it’s nothing. They shouldn’t. I don’t think I’ll be able to hide it any longer since there is no way I can eat that chicken, or even be anywhere near the smell.
I splash some water on my face and swish some in my mouth hoping to get the wretched smell off my breath and pull my hair back into a ponytail. As I open the door, ready to try to lie to everyone, my mom is standing there crying.
“You’re pregnant,” she surmises. Not able to say it to her out loud, I just nod, giving her the opportunity to continue. “What does this mean for you and Robert? You aren’t going to take him back after what he did, are you?” She asks quietly looking around to make sure no one can hear us.
“It doesn’t mean anything, Mom. There is no reason to get him involved.” Nerves begin to shake my body knowing I’m going to have to tell her what I did and soon. I was hoping to break it to her after I figure out the best way how. But I guess there is no time like the present.
“What do you mean, Erin? Are you not going to tell him?” Alarm is evident from her expression.
“There isn’t a need to.” I can’t figure out why I’m stalling. Air whooshes out of my lungs pushing the truth out just as fast. “The baby isn’t Robert’s, Mom.” My eyes stare at the floor, no longer able to look at her puzzled expression any longer.
“I’m not sure I understand, baby.”
Lifting my head back up, I take another deep breath. “About six weeks ago Noelle and I went out to a bar. I just wanted to forget about what Robert did and I met a guy named Walker there. We slept together. I know it was wrong, and you always say to love the person you give yourself to, but I wasn’t thinking, Mom. I just wanted to let go and forget myself for just one night. That’s all. Just one night.”
“Erin, baby, I would never judge you. Lord knows I had my fair share of indiscretions before I met your father.” The warmth of her arms surrounds me in the narrow hallway. “So, have you told this, this Walker? What did he say?”
This is it; the point where the judgment comes in and disappointment takes over. “No, I haven’t told him. I can’t. I don’t know his last name or even have his phone number. We went back to his hotel and I left the next morning. I’m sure he is from out of town. I’ve tried searching for him, but I can’t find him. And even if he wanted to come and find me I didn’t give him my real name.”
A sad look flashes across her face which turns to what I can only assume is understanding. “You had a one-night stand?” She asks and I nod my head yes.
“Oh, baby. That’s kind of a rite of passage. I too fell for a sexy, no strings attached, night of passion. Mine just turned into a sexy, spend your life with me, night of passion.”
“Mom, please tell me you aren’t talking about my father.” I shake my head completely mortified at where this is going.
“Yes, actually. He was the one night stand that never went away. I was looking to have a good time and I was so good,” she winks at me, “that he came back for more.”
“I can’t believe Daddy was a one night stand!” I say, covering my eyes.
“What’s a one night stand?” A sweet little voice, belonging to my nephew Jack, asks. “I want one? Mama, I want a one night stand!” He yells all the way down to the kitchen.
“Mom, what about all that advice about waiting to be in love and finding someone special?” I call her out.
“What was I supposed to tell you, Erin? ‘Go out, have meaningless sex and you too could find your soul mate’?” She laughs.
My mom and I start a fit of laughter before Nicole interrupts us. “Please tell me that my son meant night stand and not ONE night stand. I’m glad Brad got called to the hospital tonight because he would have flipped his shit if Jack asked him that!”
My mother leaves Nicole and me alone, and we walk into the living room taking a seat on the old green couch. Hand in hand, I tell Nicole the same thing I told Mom but with a little more detail. She assures me that everything will be okay and that if I need anything to let her know. Trent joins us as I start to cry again, relaying the story to him. He is the one who will be able to relate to me the most. After Jason was born, his girlfriend Alex, of four years, left him and their newborn baby boy. He hasn’t seen or heard from her since, and her parents won’t tell him where she went. He is a great father, amazing uncle, and one of the best and biggest shoulders to lean on. I’m lucky to have them in my life.
Conversation over and stomach settled we stand to go check on the kids when Marie walks in holding Jason up. “Uncle Trent. Jason shit himself.”
“MARIE!” We all scream in unison, making Jason cry.
“It’s a crazy life, Erin, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world,” Trent says, patting me on the shoulder and taking his son from our niece. “Let’s go freshen you up, little man.”
Watching him walk away with a smiling Jason, hope fills my heart thinking that someone in my future will accept me and my little one. I only hope they are at least half the father Trent and Brad are. If I never find that, at least I know there are some amazing men in my life that will gladly step up and be role models.
“Let’s hope it’s a boy, Erin,” Nicole states, rubbing her hands over my flat stomach.
“Why?”
“You know what they say. With a girl you have to worry about all the dicks, but when you have a boy you worry about just one.” She winks and walks away.
The beds of my nails are in shambles. I continue to bite at them, anxiously waiting in the pristine lobby of Dr. Gale’s practice.
“Erin Decker.” The overly keyed up nurse calls from the open doorway leading to the exam rooms.
Picking up my purse, I stroll towards her, nervous about going from a gynecological patient to an obstetric one. The long hallway is filled with nurses and doctors going in and out of rooms. A baby cries inside the first room to the right, raising my panic up a notch. What if I can’t calm my child down? Swallowing the bile rising up in my throat, I quietly follow the nurse to exam room four.
After a short greeting she takes my vitals, weight, collects a urine sample, and then follows up with countless questions about why I think I’m pregnant. At this point I am three weeks late and eleven pregnancy tests sure. I don’t think I’m pregnant. I know.
“Dr. Gale will be with you in a few minutes. Just slip on the robe and climb up onto the table when you are finished.” The door closes b
ehind her, leaving me alone in the cold room. Looking around, I spot the robe next to the chair and walk to the changing area they have secured behind a curtain.
With my clothes folded up nicely and ass firmly on the bed, hands folded, yet fidgety, I am tortured by the sound of every tick from the clock on the wall. Impatience turns to annoyance, which turns to rage when fifteen minutes turns into forty five. When I feel I cannot take another minute in this room a hard knock comes on the door, instantly relaxing me. Finally!
“Erin! So glad to have you back. I apologize for the wait. How have you been? How’s your mother doing?” His glasses, which are slipping down his slanted nose, make him look ten years older than his age of fifty five. He has grayish brown hair and such blue eyes that you feel as though you are looking into the depths of the ocean. Although he is far from overweight, his protruding belly pushes at the buttons of his gray dress shirt and pulls out of his black slacks.
“My mother is doing fine, thank you. She sends her best.”
Dr. Gale has been my OB/GYN since I was eighteen. Even after I left for college, I would always schedule my yearly visits with him. He has known me since I can remember. He and my father were close friends, and Dr. Gale has remained a calming and steady force for my mother, helping her cope with the loss of my father. Most women would choose a female gynecologist, but I prefer a man. They always look at you as a patient and not some whiny girl who is complaining about something they have gone through. Don’t get me wrong, some of the greats are of the female persuasion...it’s just not my cup of tea. His warm demeanor and professional attitude have comforted me in some of the most uncomfortable positions. He was also the shoulder I cried on when I miscarried with Robert’s and my baby. I was alone that day too. Robert was starting his internship at a big firm and apparently couldn’t miss the first day.
Remembering the events makes me feel like the walls are closing in. Protectively I place my hands on my abdomen. Even though I am scared to death, I don’t want to lose this baby too.
Dr. Gale can sense my unease and places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I understand you think you might be carrying a little person?”
There’s that “think” word again. “Yes, I took a million tests, Dr. Gale. I’m pretty sure I am.” A nervous laugh slips from my mouth even though I hardly think anything about this is humorous.
Opening my chart with a “hmm” and an “ah” he begins. “Well, I’m happy to be the first to say congrats! Your urine test came back positive and based on your last menstrual cycle you look to have a due date of March 4th. Would you like to take a look? You’ll get to see your little miracle and we can make sure everything is running smoothly.”
I am left speechless, unable to answer his question. It’s one thing to have a stick tell you you’re pregnant, but now it’s confirmed, and very real.
“Erin?” His question tugs me from my thoughts.
“Yes, I’m sorry. I’d like to see,” I state, wishing someone was here to witness this with me. I didn’t tell my mother about the appointment and Noelle couldn’t miss a work meeting this morning.
“Alright, well let’s get it set up for you, shall we? Is Robert in the waiting room? I can have the nurse go get him so he can see as well.” He places his hand back on my shoulder.
“Uhm, no. Robert isn’t here. This baby isn’t his.” Looking down at my hands, I let out a sigh. “And the father, well, he won’t be here either.”
“Oh, I understand. Well, Erin, you are a strong independent woman who is going to thrive as a mother. I’m sure of it. I’ll be right back.” His voice cuts off when the door slams shut behind him.
The same nurse from before, who I now know as Carla, returns to the room as does the doctor with the internal ultrasound machine. They inform me that the baby is still too small to see using the external ultrasound. Placing my legs in the stirrups he warns of the pressure before pushing the long wand inside me. I didn’t need the warning, having done this once before, but that time it didn’t end well.
In an instant the black screen fills with the image of what looks to be the shape of a lima bean.
“There he or she is,” Dr. Gale’s heavy tone shakes me out of my reoccurring trance.
My hand involuntarily comes up to my mouth in shock. “That’s my baby?” I ask, fascinated.
“Yup, that’s it. And see the little flicker in the middle? Usually it’s too early to see but that is your baby’s heartbeat. A strong one at that.”
That’s what was missing when I lost Robert’s and my baby. The heartbeat. The same image was on the screen but the flicker was noticeably absent. Seeing it now brings goose bumps to the surface of my skin. It’s there. It’s really there and strong. I lose all sense of control and cry, again. Damn hormones.
After Dr. Gale extracts the wand and washes his hands, the machine next to me comes to life spitting out image after image of my little bean. Ripping it at the end he hands me three pictures with “Baby Decker” typed out at the top.
“Everything looks perfect, Erin,” he assures me. “There is no need to worry about this pregnancy. You are well on your way to having a healthy baby and I meant what I said. You are going to be just fine.”
“Thank you,” I say and try to smile as the nurse hands me tissues to clean up my face.
“I’ll write up a prescription for prenatal vitamins and a print out of what you can and can’t do now that you have precious cargo in your tummy. Some important things to remember though, are no drinking, no smoking and no drugs, and remember, Erin, you can always call me even if you think what you are concerned about is nothing.”
After I agree to follow his instructions, both of them leave me to change, but I am held captive by the pictures in my hand. My hormones take control, creating more tears that I can’t manage to stem, and they free fall down my cheeks. Grabbing more tissues to wipe them away is pointless. They won’t stop.
This thing, this little person inside me, is going to change my world and nothing will ever be the same again. Light breaks through the last few weeks of darkness. Night has now turned to day. My previously hazy visions are crystal clear. I, Erin Decker, am going to have a baby. I’m going to be a single parent and for the first time since I found out, that thought doesn’t scare the crap out of me. This child will have more love and affection than any other child in existence. I am strong. My support system is steady and willing to stand by me.
Pushing past the glass doors out into the hot July sun I dig into my purse and pull out my phone finding that I have a missed call and a text from Noelle.
Noe: FREEDOM! Lunch after your appt?
Me: Portillo’s at 12:15?
Noe: See you then, slutbag.
In the past week or so my appetite has returned and made me into a nonstop eating machine. The doctor said twenty five to thirty pounds was okay to gain and as of right now I am still at one hundred thirty, thankfully. My mouth waters as I think of the amazing burger and French fries waiting for me. Portillo’s is a staple in Chicago. It houses the juiciest burgers and Chicago style hot dogs you can imagine. The shakes are sinful and have you moaning from the first sip. So. Freaking. Amazing!
Noelle beats me there and already has a table for us. Lunchtime is insanely busy and they put their restaurant style food out quicker than a fast food place. To see she has already secured a spot amazes me. There have been plenty of times we’ve had to stand while scarfing down our food but it’s so worth it.
The drop of my purse on the table barely makes a sound over the noisy patrons but it gets her attention. “Can you stop referring to me as a slutbag? I’ve only slept with two guys in my entire life, which is like 1/20th of the amount you have.”
Her blue eyes lift from her smart phone, while her fingers still type out whatever message she is sending, and look up at me. “So, you are saying I slept with forty-ish guys?” She asks.
“Uhm, give or take.”
“I’m insulted!” She stands up quickly mo
tioning to her svelte body covered in a sophisticated light blue dress shirt and white pencil skirt that brings out her 20s pinup figure. Her hair is pulled back into a low bun and her makeup enhances her high cheekbones. “This hot body has had way more than forty men beg for it! At least sixty.”
Hysterical laughing erupts from me as one of the three businessmen at the table adjacent to us spits his drink out all over the food in front of him. “Now, who is the slutbag?” I laugh.
“Let’s go get our food before one of them starts getting on his knees worshipping me.”
The lines are long, but in no time Noelle and I are back at the table, spitting men long gone. She asks me about my appointment and I tell her about all the tests, questions, my due date and that I am almost seven weeks along. The entire room goes silent when I pull out the pictures and she screams out, telling anyone in earshot, she is going to be an aunt.
“How are you feeling about all of this, Erin?” She asks as we throw away our trash and exit through the revolving doors.
Stopping just outside I look out into the mid afternoon and tell her exactly how I feel. “I’m scared, Noe. I’m twenty seven. I’m single, and besides my nieces and nephews, who I can send home at any minute, I don’t have the first clue on how to be a mother. What scares me the most, I mean really scares me, is that this child won’t have their own father in their life. My dad played such an amazing role in my upbringing. He made me the woman I am today and I don’t know if I can be both mother and father. So, I’m petrified, but besides all of that I am thrilled beyond words. The second I saw that little flicker on the screen my perspective and my world changed. That heartbeat is a little piece of Heaven residing in a tiny body. I love this baby so much already and I cannot even imagine what I am going to feel once they are here.”
A single tear falls down Noelle’s face. Smiling, she pulls me into a hug. “I am so proud of you. So proud. I know you are going to be a great mother and please know I am here for you.” She pulls back but still holds onto my arms. “I will always be there. I can be the other parent. I’ll get up in the middle of the night, hold them while you shower, and hold you when times get too tough. I love you so much, Erin, and I’m going to love that baby just as much if not more.”