First Comes Baby. Janice Johnson Kay
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later.”
Laurel lifted her chin. “What’s your point?”
Marie spoke for all of them. “That sex and relationships with men are harder for us than they used to be, but not impossible. Having a kid is great. Just…. don’t give up on men until you’ve given ’em a fair try. Okay?”
How was it that she hadn’t realized she was the only one in the group who had resolved to stay celibate?
She nodded, although she hadn’t changed her mind.
“When are you due?” someone asked then.
In chatter about bottle-feeding versus breast, offers of hand-me-down clothes, even a stroller and tales about their own children, Laurel almost forgot their reservations.
Almost.
DESPITE HER CERTAINTY, she was so nervous when she went into her doctor’s office to take the pregnancy test, she couldn’t just sit and wait for the results, pretending she cared what Good Housekeeping said about organizing closets. She went for a walk, just a couple of blocks, but it was easier to reason with herself when she was moving than sitting still in a waiting room full of other people.
You think you’re pregnant, her doubting inner self said, but so did Bloody Mary. Haven’t you ever heard of hysterical pregnancy?
She had, and she might be a good candidate, as desperate as she was to be pregnant.
“I’ll bet Queen Mary didn’t have morning sickness,” she argued with herself.
A couple of passing teenage boys in gigantic pants and black bandannas gave her a “yo, you’re crazy, lady” look.
Maybe she was. Her breath came short. Thank God she hadn’t told Caleb.
There was one way to settle this.
Laurel turned resolutely and went back to the clinic.
The receptionist didn’t even let her sit down. “Dr. Schapiro will see you now.”
She escorted Laurel to an office rather than an examining room.
The doctor was perhaps fifty, with a dark bob of hair, crinkles beside her eyes and a warmth that seemed genuine. She stood and shook hands with Laurel across the desk.
“I know this is good news for you. You’re pregnant.”
Laurel closed her eyes momentarily against a wave of joy and relief.
“It is good news?”
“Yes, I…yes.”
Her gaze was curious, but she didn’t ask why Laurel hadn’t been back to have the sperm implanted here. “We’ll get you scheduled for your first prenatal exam, and I’ve already written you a prescription for vitamins. How are you feeling?”
“Nauseated.” Laurel made a face. “Pretty much constantly. Or maybe I should say, unpredictably. I thought it was called morning sickness. Shouldn’t I feel great in the afternoon?”
Dr. Schapiro laughed. “Unfortunately, it’s called that only because nausea on first rising is common. There are women who tell me they feel dandy in the morning and then can’t eat dinner, and others who suffer from a certain level of nausea pretty much all day. I take it you’re one of those?”
Laurel nodded. “I’m trying to keep eating. I know it’s important. But it’s hard. Every so often I’m suddenly starved, but if I eat very much I throw it up an hour later.”
“The good news is, morning sickness usually only lasts through the first trimester. But it’s really important that you’re able to keep food down.” She talked for a few minutes about eating small amounts, what foods were least likely to cause nausea and which were most important for the fetus’s development.
Armed with a pile of handouts and an appointment a month later, Laurel walked out of the clinic in a daze. She was pregnant. First try. She’d known she was pregnant. So why the sense of unreality now?
Because she hadn’t gotten pregnant the usual way? Well, yeah. The big event had borne more resemblance to treating herself for a yeast infection. Except for the standing-on-her-head part.
A chilly trickle down her spine made her wonder whether she was really feeling fear. She’d taken a huge step, and now had to live with the consequences. And she had to tell everybody, starting with her dad and sister. She’d have to suffer the questions and curiosity of everybody at work. She wasn’t even sure how the women in her support group truly felt about her decision.
But it’s my decision, she reminded herself. Nobody but hers. Which, when she got right down to it, was what made it so scary.
Managing financially was a worry, of course. She made a decent living at Vallone, Penn and Cooper, the law firm, but she’d need to take maternity leave, and then find reliable day care. Caleb had insisted on paying child support at a very minimum. She knew he’d give her more if she’d take it, but the reality was, Caleb had fathered her baby out of kindness, no matter what he’d said to the contrary. What happened once he got married and had other children? What if his wife resented the existence of this child that wasn’t even the vestige of a former relationship? Laurel had to be self-supporting. She wanted to be able to put away a good deal of the money from Caleb in a college fund.
When she got home, Laurel called first her father and then her sister and invited them to dinner Saturday night.
“I have news,” she admitted to Megan. “No, not a word until Saturday.”
“You’re going back to law school!” her sister crowed.
The pain took her by surprise. She should have realized that’s what Meg would assume. Why did it hurt so much? Because her own sister didn’t know her well enough to understand why she couldn’t go back? Because a part of her hadn’t quite let go of the dream?
She managed to say, “No. It’s not that. Sorry.”
“Oh. Well,” Meg rallied, “don’t be sorry. I can’t wait to hear what the news is. Dad’s coming, you said?”
Friday afternoon, as she left work, Caleb fell in step with her in the lobby. “You going to let a guy take you out to dinner?”
Startled, she spun so quickly her ankle turned and she would have gone down but for his quick grip on her arm. “You always manage to sneak up on me!”
“What better place to lie in wait for you?”
“Did you just get in?”
“12:16 p.m. I went home, took a shower, changed clothes, then headed here.”
They emerged onto Fourth Street, where traffic was bumper to bumper and the sidewalks jammed. Caleb laid a hand on her back to steer her. “I’m a block down.”
“Of course you are.”
His grin flashed. As long as she’d known him, everyone had teased him about his luck.
In the crowd, talking wasn’t practical. Horns sounded, bus brakes squealed and the sound of a deep bass pounded from a car that was stuck in traffic. Neither Caleb nor Laurel said a word until Caleb unlocked his Prius and they both got in and the racket of the outside world was buffered. He put the key in the ignition, but didn’t turn it. Instead, he looked at her. “So?”
She knew what he was asking. “I’m pregnant.”
His smile was a glorious burst of delight. “Really? Now?”
“No, tomorrow.” She poked him. “Of course, now.”
“You’ve had a pregnancy test?”
“Yes, and I’m spending half my time hugging toilets.”
“Morning sickness?”
Laurel sighed. “In lieu of rejecting the fetus, my body is rejecting everything else I