“The good news,” she continued, “is that you were able to get pregnant quite easily in the first place. That usually means you won’t have trouble getting pregnant again. I see no reason you couldn’t start trying in a month or so.”
I stared at her kind, calm face and was suddenly struck with the urge to slap her, to claw at her perfectly made-up skin. She thought it was that easy, huh? That I could just forget all about this and move onto the next baby? Better luck next time?
“I’m very sorry, Kimberly,” she said, and she sounded sincere at least. “I know this is extremely hard.”
I felt the anger leave me as quickly as it had appeared. She was just trying to do her job. It wasn’t her fault I had… that my baby was…
“Can you tell what it was?” I asked, my voice raspy. “The baby, I mean. Can you tell if it was a boy or a girl?”
“No, I’m sorry,” she said. “He or she was still too little, too undeveloped.”
I nodded, the numbness returning and settling over me like a comforting blanket.
“You probably won’t need a D and C,” she continued, more business-like now, and I grasped the numb blanket like a lifeline, scared to let her words register. “Everything will probably happen naturally. You’ll have some bleeding, but other than that you won’t notice anything amiss. I’ll want to see you again next week for a follow-up.”
“What’s a D and C?” Eric asked, his voice jarring me. I had nearly forgotten he was there.
The doctor looked at me before answering. “A procedure,” she said. I knew Eric didn’t understand, and I silently begged him not to ask. I didn’t think I could bear to hear it described. “It would remove the baby if the body couldn’t do it naturally.” I felt my stomach swoop at her words. I suppose it could have been worse, she could have been more graphic, but the very thought of—
“I really am very sorry,” she said, interrupting my spinning thoughts and patting my shoulder. Then she was gone, leaving Eric and me alone in the exam room. It wasn’t the same room we had been in the day before, thank God, but they looked almost identical. How could that have only been yesterday? That we had sat there listening to the sound of our baby’s heartbeat?
“Kiki,” Eric whispered, his voice thick. I looked over at him and was surprised to see tears in his eyes. “Kiki, I’m so sorry, babe—”
“Can we just go home?’ I asked dully. “I don’t want to talk—please, just take me home.”
He nodded, helping me to stand up and get dressed. A nurse came in before I had finished, and she handed me a piece of paper. “There’s your appointment for next week,” she said, her tone flat and emotionless. “You can take ibuprofen for the cramps, and feel free to call us if you have any concerns or questions.”
I could see Eric glare at her, obviously concerned that her demeanor was insensitive to me, but I actually felt relieved. I didn’t want more sympathy, more knowing looks. I just wanted to be out of there.
As I settled into the car, Eric kept shooting me worried looks. I knew I should reassure him, that I should say something, but I just couldn’t bring myself to open my mouth.
“I’m so sorry,” he finally said, reaching over to grab my hand. I didn’t respond, couldn’t find any words. Instead, I squeezed his hand back as he drove me home in silence.
***
Eric called Jen for me, to let her know I was ill and wouldn’t be able to make it in to work. “She’s lying down now,” I heard him say firmly from the living room. He had insisted I go straight to bed when we got home, even going so far as to tuck me in like a child. “Sorry, Jen, but she can’t come to the phone.”
I was grateful I wouldn’t have to talk to her. It seemed insane to me that my entire life had just changed and Jen didn’t even realize it, that she didn’t even know there was anything to change in the first place. I wondered if it would have been better to have told her about the baby. It would mean telling her now about the miscarriage, which would be awful. But it seemed wrong to me that she not know there was something to grieve.
My mother, I thought suddenly. I wanted my mother. She knew about the baby, she and Daddy both. I had to tell them.
“Kiki,” Eric said, standing in the door to the bedroom. He looked exhausted, older somehow than he had looked that morning. I felt a rush of sympathy for him, and guilt that I wasn’t doing anything to comfort him. It was his baby, too. “I need to call in to work,” he went on. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to tell your dad, or make an excuse.”
“You can tell him,” I whispered. “He’ll need to know, and I don’t think I—I don’t think I can. I’m sorry.” I knew it was a lot to ask of him, knew it was my own father and I should have the guts to tell him, but the thought of saying the words out loud… I was suddenly so grateful that we hadn’t told his parents yet, hating the thought of him having to tell his mother she wouldn’t be a grandmother yet after all.
“It’s okay,” he said, walking over to the bed. He leaned down and kissed me. “I don’t mind.”
I merely nodded, turning my head so I wouldn’t have to see the sadness and worry in his eyes. I heard the sound of his footsteps, muffled on the carpet, as he made his way back to the living room. After a moment, I heard his voice, on the phone with my father.
“Dad?” he said. “It’s Eric. Something happened this morning.” I heard his voice crack, knew he was close to breaking down. Fully aware that I was being a coward but unable to help myself, I pulled the covers up over my head, desperate to block out the rest.
***
Eric was worried about me. He was treating me like a doll that he was afraid might break, or maybe like a wounded animal he wasn’t sure was safe. I tried to smile at him, to act like everything was normal, but it was exhausting. I knew, more often than not, that I was slipping away into brooding whenever I let my guard down. I tried not to do it when he was around, but I was sure he noticed.
“It will get easier,” my mother had said that first night. After Eric had called my dad, he had, in turn, called her. She waited a few hours before coming over, wanting to give us some time together. Eric and I had laid in bed, him holding me tightly, not talking. I held onto the numbness for as long as I could, scared of the pain I would feel if I let it go. When I felt Eric shaking slightly behind me, I knew he was crying. Not just crying, full-out weeping, though silently—something I hadn’t seen him do since his grandfather had died two years ago.
“Eric,” I had whispered into the quiet of the room, and I heard an audible sob slip through.
“I’m sorry, Kiks,” he whispered. “I don’t want to upset you. I just can’t stop thinking—” His voice broke into sobs. “I’m just so sad.”
“Me too,” I said, turning over so I was facing him. “Me too.”
I let myself cry then, knew I couldn’t hold it in any more. Eric held me tight, my face buried in his chest, as our collective sobs shook the bed. We stayed like that for hours, finally falling asleep in each other’s arms, not waking until my mom arrived.
“I know it’s hard to believe, baby,” she told me that night, brushing my hair out of my eyes. “But it really does get better.”
“I don’t want it to get better,” I said fiercely. “You sound like the doctor, going on about when I can start trying again. This was my baby. I don’t want to just get over it.”
“Oh, sweetie,” she sighed, rubbing my arms. She was sitting next to me on the couch, my head on her shoulder. “Of course you don’t. And you won’t. You won’t just get over it; it will always be there with you. But eventually it won’t hurt quite as bad. And when you are ready to try again, the joy will be bigger than the pain.”
“How did you get through it?” I asked, shaking my head. My mother had had three miscarriages before she finally had me. I didn’t think I could stand to go through this again.
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice soft. “It was very hard. Your father helped. He never lost faith that we would eventually get there
.”
“Was it worth it?”
“Having you?” She sounded surprised. I nodded against her shoulder. “Oh, Kiks, of course it was. I would have gone through anything in order to have you. Being your mom is the best thing that ever happened to me.”
I cried some more after that, but the weight in my chest somehow didn’t feel quite as bad.
The next night I started having the nightmares.
I would wake up, panting and terrified. The dream was always the same: I was looking and looking for my baby. I could hear her crying, but I couldn’t find her, no matter how hard I looked. I felt bad, waking Eric up so many times throughout the night, but he would never complain, just holding me until I finally fell back asleep.
I didn’t go back to work for three days. I felt bad, knowing Jen needed me, but I just couldn’t bring myself to see anyone. How could I manage without telling her? And once I told her, how could I manage not breaking down? Eventually Eric convinced me that it would probably be good for me to get out of the house, try to get back into some semblance of a normal routine. I agreed, but only to make him feel better. I thought it would probably scare him if I told him that all I wanted to do was lie in bed and sleep until the pain went away.
So I went back to work and I managed to convince Jen that I had simply had some kind of stomach bug. I knew I would need to tell her eventually, but I wanted to put more time between myself and the hurt. Maybe on the weekend, away from the office, I could invite her over for lunch or something, and tell her what had happened. In the meantime, the office was busy and hectic, which I was grateful for. I worked as hard as I could, losing myself in the details of weddings and parties. Eric had been right—it helped.
“Kiki,” Jen said, standing in the doorway to my office. It was nearly six on Friday. Somehow I had made it through the whole wretched week. I had a brunch meeting with a potential client in the morning, but other than that, I could just wallow at home.
“You heading out?” I asked, looking up at her. I plastered a fake smile on my face. Her own smile faltered a bit, almost as if she could sense I wasn’t being honest, but she seemed to brush it off.
“Yup. What about you?” She looked down at her watch. “You don’t want to overdo it, not when you’ve been sick.”
“Yeah,” I said, shrugging. “I’m almost done.”
“So, what are your weekend plans?” she asked, coming over to sit on the edge of my desk.
“Not a lot,” I said. “Meeting with those new restaurant people in the morning, but mostly relaxing.”
“Matt and I are having the girls over for dinner tomorrow,” she said. “Want to come?”
I felt a pang, thinking of seeing Ginny and her children. I wasn’t sure I was up for that.
“Um,” I said, my brain spinning, trying to come up with an excuse when I had already told her I didn’t have plans. “I would have to check with Eric,” I finally said lamely.
She looked at me closely for a minute. “You okay, Kiki?” she asked, her voice soft.
I immediately felt a lump in my throat. “Yeah,” I said, struggling to keep my voice even. “Of course.”
She watched me, wordless, and then finally nodded her head. “All right,” she said. “Well, let me know if you can come, okay? It’s nothing fancy or anything, but there will be wine.”
I returned her smile, even though I felt like crying. Wine, which I would now be able to drink.
“Oh, and no kids, either, if that makes a difference to Eric,” she went on. “That’s part of the reason we’re having everyone over. Ginny’s parents are taking the kids for the weekend, and they’re celebrating their freedom.”
I felt a rush of relief. Maybe I wouldn’t have to think of an excuse after all. In fact, maybe this would be the perfect chance to tell Jen. I could stay after the girls had gone and tell her what had happened. I knew Eric wanted Matt to know. I felt guilty demanding he keep it a secret from his own brother just because I wasn’t ready to tell Jen.
“It sounds fun,” I told her. “I’ll talk to Eric.”
“Good,” she said, standing up. She walked to the door before turning back to look at me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Of course,” I said, smiling that same fake smile that was almost starting to feel real to me now. “I’ll call you, okay?”
She looked like she wanted to say something else, but instead she just gave me one last smile and left the office.
I stared down at my desk. I was finished with my work, really. I may as well go home, I thought to myself, feeling little joy at the prospect. Still, I packed up my bag and stood, turning out the lights in my office, not at all eager to get back to my condo and all the sadness that was lurking there.
Chapter Fourteen
Jen and Matt lived in Ferndale, a town about ten minutes away from our condo. Ferndale was cute—it kind of had a quirky vibe to it, and a bustling downtown area with lots of restaurants and bars. The girls had all grown up near there and had returned to the town after finishing college, renting a house together while Ginny was pregnant. Jen and Matt lived in that same house, actually, having bought it after Ginny and Josh got married and moved out.
“You up for this?” Eric asked as we parked the car on the street opposite their house. Annie’s and Josh’s cars were already parked in the driveway. The front door was closed against the winter cold, and I could picture them all inside, probably laughing and breaking into the first bottle of wine.
“Of course,” I said, trying to smile at him. I wasn’t sure if I succeeded. Eric reached over and took my hand, squeezing it gently.
“We can always turn around, you know. Head right back home. Blame it on a freak reoccurrence of your stomach bug.”
I gave him a real smile this time. “No, I think company will be good,” I said. “Besides, maybe I’ll get the chance to talk to Jen in private. Let her know what happened.”
Eric still looked concerned, so I moved to open the door. “Hey,” he said, his voice soft, and I turned back to him. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
He kissed the hand he was still holding. “Should we have a code word? In case we want to make our escape?”
I laughed, the first genuine laugh I’d had in days. “Sure. How ‘bout Houdini?”
“Perfect,” he said, grinning at me. “Should be very easy to work inconspicuously into a conversation.”
I kissed him, feeling suddenly very grateful that I had married this man. “We should get in there,” I said.
Eric insisted I wait for him to open my door so he could help me down from my seat. He was still treating me like I was sick. It wasn’t necessary, but I got the feeling it made him feel less impotent about the situation, so I let him dote on me.
Eric knocked sharply on the heavy front door. “Come in!” Matt’s muffled voice called from inside. As Eric pulled the door open, Matt came into view in the foyer. “Hey, guys! Glad you could make it!”
He hugged us each, even kissing my cheek, and I was struck with the thought that he was in an unusually good mood.
“Kiki!” Jen called out from the dining room. “Eric, come on in!”
We stepped through the entryway into the dining room, where Jen was setting the table with help from Ginny. Through the kitchen I could see Annie and Nate pouring wine.
We said our hellos to everyone, accepting glasses of wine from Nate, before Jen shooed everyone into the living room to relax. “Dinner will be another twenty minutes or so,” she said. “But we’ll have hors d'oeuvres in a bit.”
“Yes,” Annie muttered. “I knew I would eat good if I came over here.”
“Me too,” Nate said. “God knows she cooks a hell of a lot better than either of us.”
Annie didn’t argue the point. Jen was well-known as a phenomenal cook, and the smells coming from the kitchen made me feel hungry for the first time all week.
“So, how’s everyone doing?” Jen asked as she sat down on the cou
ch. She looked a little bit nervous to me for some reason, or maybe overexcited.
“Pretty good,” Annie said, leaning back against the cushions of the armchair. “We’re starting to get into gear for the summer season at the theater. I think it’s going to be really—”
“We have news!” Jen cried suddenly, interrupting Annie mid-sentence. Matt laughed a little and put his arm around her. “Sorry, we were going to wait until dinner to tell you, but I just can’t stand it.”
“Oh, my God,” Ginny whispered, pointing at Jen. “I knew it. I knew it! No wonder you’re not drinking any wine!”
Everyone else looked at Jen blankly, looking as confused as I felt. Jen grinned broadly and glanced at Matt. Did she have tears in her eyes?
“What?” Annie asked, looking from Jen to Ginny. “What did you know? What’s going on?”
It hit me a second before Jen opened her mouth. With a swoop of my stomach, I knew.
“I’m pregnant!” Jen squealed. “We’re having a baby!”
In the tumult of screaming that followed, I felt glued to the couch. I watched, motionless, as Ginny and Annie jumped up, hugging Jen and squealing in delight. Josh and Nate were congratulating Matt, shaking his hand and slapping his back. It was that sight that snapped me out of it.
“Go hug your brother,” I hissed at Eric. He was sitting next to me, as frozen as I was, clutching my hand as I dug my nails into his knee.
“Kiki,” he said in my ear, sounding anguished.
“Go,” I said, releasing his leg so we could stand. “We have to congratulate them.”
This is Jen’s moment, I told myself as I got off the couch and went to hug her. Don’t you dare cry. She invited you to be here when she told her closest friends. You cannot ruin it. You can’t.
“Congratulations!” I cried, hoping my voice sounded normal. “I’m so happy for you!”
The Truth About Ever After (Three Girls) Page 10