The Potential Life

         

Conception

For the time being, your life is just peachy. 

You’ve moved into your first apartment with your childhood sweetheart and have wedding bells on your mind.  After years of a strange courtship, the two of you have finally decided to take things seriously and move forward with your relationship.  The snug, two bedroom unit becomes cozier and cozier as you two make it a home. Knowing that this place, despite its pros and cons, is only temporary gives you some peace.  A beautiful wedding followed by a quaint house entertains your fantasies, so for now you are content. 

There’s only one year left of your AA degree; the rest of the classes required have piqued your interest and your instructors have gained your approval.  Actually, you’re quite happy with your schedule and change in plans.  Military and accounting are field you are fully capable of entering, but you wouldn’t be happy. Thankfully, you have a supportive network of friends and family to disprove the thoughts of failure for changing life plans. 

The money from your warehouse job is starting to roll in and, despite some tight budgeting, you’re well off.  Time allows for some social events occasionally and your health in its entirety isn’t suffering.  Everything in your little world has room to expand and develop and you’re ready for it. 

         This, my beloved Janine, is where I came in.

This is our introduction, unfortunately quite shocking and unwelcome.  I was incapable of a proper “hello” then, though I don’t think that would have made the situation any easier to handle.  Shock, fear, and a cold calculating mindset overcame you.  What you’re going to do with this new person in your life is given serious consideration.  As you recall, it went something like this:

~

School work has been assigned and classes have started rolling. Bills have become intimidating as adulthood crept in.  My current job may be taken from me.  Right now, though, I can relax and play on my PlayStation.  Cayden is curled up on the couch with me, and we’re casually discussing how we’re going to celebrate my graduation, if in fact we are. 

         A craving for pizza with sausage, mushrooms, Thousand Island dressing, and hot sauce sets in.  Lightly, Cayden asks if I’m pregnant and jokes, “Let’s pee on a stick.”  I smirk and shrug him off, but a little voice in the back of my mind reminds me I haven’t gone through my time of the month yet. All humor in the room dissipates when I mention this.

         “Should we?”  Cayden puts on his “we’ve got this, let’s go” face.

         “I suppose.”  I can’t hide the frown.  “I was just kidding—I was supposed to skip last month, remember?”

         “Yes, but it couldn’t hurt to check.”

         I resign and hunt down the emergency test we keep in the dresser.  A small, rising panic tries to take hold, but I shove it down.  It’s amazing how such a little piece of plastic could be so intimidating.  Everything about the bathroom now seems sterile and cold.  As the test takes its time, I wash my hands, and wait.  Then, disbelief.  A defiant plus sign solidifies, and the air leaves my lungs.

         After five years, or maybe five seconds, Cayden knocks and asks if I’m alright.  A whimper from out of nowhere—maybe a whine or an empty scream—echoes in the bathroom.  The door opens, he sees my face, and he moves to hold me.  “We can handle this, baby.”  Sinking, I find the floor to be comfortably numbing. 

         “What am I going to do?”  Thoughts of adoption, difficulty pushing through my education, the wedding being seen as nothing more than a cover up, and even quiet abortion race through my mind.  “What will I do?!”  Inevitable disappointment from family members and loss of faith in myself overwhelm me.  Tears and frightening calm battle to take hold. 

         “Honey, we can do this.”  All the “baby fever” Cayden and I have teased each other about seems much more serious now. 

         It is all a sick surprise, I know.  I must say, I didn’t realize how much trouble I was from the start.  Various options circled through your mind, but it was always your choice to make.

Eight Weeks

~

         “...I’m going to have to actually get healthier. Clothes shopping is going to be a pain.  Would it be too late to seriously consider adoption?  Should I publicize the news?  I’m really bad about those things.  Should we push the marriage up?  We didn’t even make the engagement official, only talked.  God, my life is a bad sitcom.”  It’s at that last thought that I audibly chuckle.  Cayden looks up from his Louis L’Amour and asks, “What?” with his face. 

         “It’s nothing,” I smile, “I’m just internally rambling.”

         “Oh?  About what?”

         “Nothing.”  I can feel my eyes glaze over as the weight of the situation settles in again.  “I’m just thinking about how much everything is going to change.”  Cayden sets his book down and crosses the room to tip the recliner I’ve curled up cross-legged in.  I squeal and clamber to get my footing; he takes advantage of my lack of grace and scoops me up against his chest. 

         “Honey,” he croons with a kiss, “everything is going to be okay.  No matter what you decide, no matter what you think is best, no matter what happens, I’ll be right here with you.”  He adds another kiss to my forehead and runs his fingers slowly through my hair.  “Besides, we’d be awesome parents.” 

         A grin tugs at my lips.  “You aren’t going to be able to do this to me for long.”  The doctor visit plays through my head.

         Later, when I am much older, you’ll talk to me about your pregnancy.  Nerve racking but informative and necessary—that’s how you described your doctor visits for the first half of your carriage.  This one in particular, though, held your attention.  At eight weeks, I was shaping up to have a more recognizable form, and it’s when you had your first important discussions with the doctor and my daddy. 

         Paperwork, a torturous necessity, out of the way, your doctor proceeded to explain where you were at and what else to expect. Obviously, your body had started to grow with me and give you a bloated sensation.  You tuned out the ramblings about reading books, but you had put forth effort to remember how to stay healthy.  When all the formality was out of the way, the excitement seeped in.

         The jelly was cold on your skin, and the whole process felt awkward and revealing.  Soon, you could see my odd little form. Nurse Hamlin pointing parts of me out was just quiet murmuring in your ears.  I was real, but the whole experience was unreal. A wall of pure emotion of every sort hit you, and all you could do was stare at the screen.  What can I say?  First impressions, I must say, were always my forte. 

Seventeen Weeks

         I hope you congratulated yourself by this point.  Now, you’ve come close to the halfway point in the first leg of our relationship. Weight gain was more noticeable because you’ve started to show by now.  Morning sickness and energy fluctuations didn’t bother you so much at this time, though, so hurrah for little victories. Replacing it were the butterflies in your stomach, created by my little movements, and slight heartburn.  Some of those motions, for the record, were directed at my lovely parents’ voices. 

         Wardrobe complications finally pushed you to buy maternity clothes and publicize the news.  Of course, my grandparents and godparents knew about my impending arrival, but you figured it was time to let everyone else in on the secret.  Mixed reactions were elicited, but at the time you decided you no longer cared about what anyone would say.  Our health, our life, and your decisions were yours to make and yours to bear. 

Your ultrasound for this week proved to be an important one.  You were undecided about knowing my sex before my arrival.  Actually, even during this ultrasound, you weren’t sure if you wanted to be told.  Dad, on the other hand, was anxious to find out.

*

  Janine giggles, but she doesn’t realize how serious I am.  Well, maybe she does and she’s still worrying about something.  Regardless, I want to feel the occasional flutters for myself.  “Remember, this is when they’re supposed to be able to hear and see things.  They know things.  They hear stuff.”

“Oh fine, just don’t tip me over.”  With permission, I drop to my knees and gently hold her waist.  I scratch down a mental note to remind her she’s beautiful every morning, despite her growing body.  Her skin is soft against my stubbly cheek, but that’s the only thing I can feel.  My breathing stops in anticipation, but it does nothing to help me hear.  “It is early, sweetheart.  You may not be able to feel anything.” 

I sigh and start humming as the lyrics play through my head. “I’ll be kind if you’ll be faithful.  You be sweet, and I’ll be grateful.  Cover me with kisses dear.  Lighten up the atmosphere.  Keep me warm inside our bed; I got dreams of you all through my head.  Fortune teller said I’d be free, and that’s the day you came to me.”  Another pause, but still nothing happens. 

Disappointment is apparent on my face.  I kiss Janine’s belly and move to stand, but I hear a little gasp.  “What?” Janine kisses the top of my head and pushes my face towards her abdomen again.  Listening intently, I still hear and feel nothing. 

“Hum some more,” she urges.  Much more anxious, I sing the song in a whisper.  “Come to me, my sweetest friend. Can you feel my heart again?  I’ll take you back where you belong, and this will be our favorite song.  Come to me with secrets bare—I’ll love you more, so don’t be scared.  When we’re old and near the end, we’ll go home and start again.”  Still, nothing.

Once again, I accept defeat and kiss Janine.  Leaving my lips on her belly a moment longer, I feel a small thump against them. “Was that it?”  I can’t believe someone so small is able to move inside my precious Janine.  Such a small life is unfolding beneath my touch.  She’s smiling back at me when I look up, and she gestures to keep listening with her chin. 

When I start circling her navel with kisses, I realize she’s softly singing “A Thousand Years”.  Her voice is so smooth and beautiful, like rich velvet, and I can’t wait to hear our child sing. “I have died every day waiting for you…I have loved you for a thousand years, I’ll love you for a thousand more.”  Those words soak into my soul, and I’m swept up in thoughts of the life we’re starting.  A few more kicks here and there from the baby, and I’m blown away with pride and wonder. 

The singing stops and I fall out of my wonder bound state. “We’re going to be late to our ultrasound.”  I shake my head and stand.  If she wasn’t so uncoordinated, I’d probably have dipped her and kissed her.  Given her luck, I’d just drop her, so I dismiss the enticing image.  “Ready to go?”

Having heard my child wiggling around, curiosity claws at my imagination.  I so desperately want to be having a girl.  The more like her mother, the better.  Janine wants the sex to be a surprise, but I don’t think I could take it for another, what, 23 weeks? We ready to leave and I decide to beg again, “So, don’t you think we should know the sex before considering names?”

“I told you, hon, I’m not sure if I want to know.” She slides into the passenger seat of our humble and faithful Buick and fastens her seatbelt.  Creasing her brow she explains, “I want to know, but at the same time I think it’d make it all the more exciting when I’m actually giving birth.”

“Baby,” I take her hand and kiss her knuckles. That crooked grin she so girlishly hides is adorable.  “This whole experience is exciting.  I just want to know because the suspense is gnawing at my every thought.”  She smiles and rolls her eyes at my dramatics, but I go on.  “Besides, we’ve got to narrow down names and start thinking about clothes and a baby room and all sorts of good things.  The sooner we know, the better, right?”

“I guess you’re right,” she concedes.  “I guess it would help shorten the list of names I’ve got going.” With that, she leans her seat back and closes her eyes.  I let her be, knowing she’s trying to let her mind wander to combat motion sickness.

In the office, she’s obviously irritable.  I’ve learned to let things like that go.  It’s understandable, I suppose, and I’m once again grateful that I’m not carrying this kid.  All the hoops I’d have to jump through would drive me insane.  Admiration sweeps over me again and I cannot describe my affections for this woman.  She holds her tongue throughout the ultrasound, and that’s when I practically bounce with joy. 

~

I figured I would get used to the jelly by now, but it’s a shock every time.  The nurse is chatting with Cayden, so I take the opportunity to stew in my thoughts.  If I know the baby’s sex now, I might get even more attached.  From what I know, post-partum depression is horrible; it’d be easy for me to end up one of those mothers who struggle with it.  Furthermore, and I know there’s no solid reasoning behind it, if I don’t know the baby’s sex, that’s all the more reason to tell anybody. 

Then again, I think it’s time to tell everyone.  I’m obviously not going to get rid of the kid.  Everyone else is going to find out sooner or later.  As long as they don’t react as animatedly as Michele did, I think I’ll be fine.  I don’t know if I could handle everyone’s emotional roller coasters that lead to a cake eating, violent, drunken celebration. 

Cayden pulls me out of my reverie.  “Can the nurse please tell us the sex?”  His face is so adorable that I almost tell him yes immediately.  I resign, and ask the question upon which my answer depends on.

“Are you ready to let the world know?”  Cayden blinks a few times, taken aback by the question, but picks up his beat and nods.  Turning to the nurse, I nod my head and allow her to tell me the sex of my coming child. 

“You’re going to have a girl!”  The nurse bubbles and continues, “Did you want pictures of your ultrasound today?”  Cayden and I glance at each other and then nod again at the nurse.  Seeing our indescribable reaction, she stands and adds, “Alrighty, I’ll leave you two alone for a bit and be back with your pictures.”

With a click, the door shuts, and Cayden and I are alone. Excitement seeps from his face as he studies mine.  “What’s wrong?  Were you hoping for a boy?” 

Shaking my head, I sigh, “It’s not that.  I’m not sure if I’m ready to tell everyone about this kid.  Talking to Michele and our parents was eventful enough.  Hell, I thought Jack was going to have a heart attack when you named him godfather. My voice fades away and I start to daydream about a world where pregnancy will last long enough for your affairs to be put in order.

“Janine,” Cayden coos and takes my hand.  “I don’t care about what anyone has to think.  I just want the rest of the world to know that my babe is having a baby.  I’m excited for this and I want you to be as excited as I am.  Don’t be so worried!” 

How can he not worry?  How does he put away his doubts and fears simply for the sake of excitement?  Enamored as I may be with this man, I will never fully understand him.  I plaster a fake grin on my face.  “I trust you, but you just wait.”

…

Pulling into our parking space, my eyes are still rooted to this picture in my hand.  In my peripheral I notice Cayden stealing glances at me, trying to catch any reaction.  If I were being honest, I still don’t know what to think about divulging our secret to the world. 

My laptop looks all the more menacing when I walk into our apartment.  “I’m going to have to do this at some point. Cayden is right, it’s better that we face all of this head on. I’d be lying if I said that I was completely and totally afraid.  A weight would be lifted in just telling everyone.” My thoughts are just making me dizzy. 

A familiar calm comes over me when I finally decide that I need to do this.  Emotions fade and my left brain takes over.  After a quick text to some immediate family members and close friends that haven’t been told yet, and I turn to the computer. Brief clattering on the keyboard, and the news is on Facebook.  I brace myself for the screen to immediately ping, but when it doesn’t I’m all the more relieved.  When that mess is taken care of, I feel giddy.  The idea strikes and I hunt for a binder or empty picture book.  “We should start that baby book.”

You’d explain that most people had nothing but congratulations and support for you.  There was definitely some surprise, especially from the avid church goers on your Facebook, but not scorn.  It could have been the hormones, but it really touched you that everyone cared and had nothing but love to share.  Actually, it wouldn’t take long to be overwhelmed by all the people who’d get baby fever and wanted constant updates and touch your stomach. I’ve got to say, you handled it like a champ.  The hardest part, though, was yet to come. 

 

Thirty-Eight Weeks

This was the home stretch.  It’s apparent that you are exhausted and can’t wait for me to arrive; feeling me drop in your body made you all the more impatient.  Cayden had had nothing but patience, but even he was wearing thin with anticipation and stress.  You felt like a balloon filled with overly compacted sand that leaks glue.  As your doctor said, I could have been born at any moment; I just had the final touches to go through.  When your water broke, it was a godsend. 

*

I set the groceries on the floor and start putting them away. Janine looks over her shoulder from the couch and moves to help me. “No,” I gently chide, “sit down and keep reading.” Disappointment and frustration colors her face, but she listens to me this time.  “Are you hungry?  I can make something up real quick.”

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s alright, I want to.”  She doesn’t stir.  “If you don’t tell me what you want I’m just going to fall back on your cravings.”  Instead of smiling like I hoped, she just sighs and tells me to make heat up the leftover chicken and rice.  With automatic movements, I finish putting away groceries and hunt through the fridge. 

This baby couldn’t come sooner.  Exciting as this trip was and strong as she is, Janine is reaching her breaking point.  She wants to have her body back again and she wants to hold this baby in her arms.  Needless to say, I’m right there with her.  At this point, there isn’t a lot I can do to help her. 

The microwave beeps.  I grab my coffee cup and her plate and slunk to the dining room.