I'll Scream Later (No Series) (25 page)

T
HE
O
UTER
L
IMITS
,
with its mix of the unexplained, seemed like the kind of series that we could pitch ideas to. Jack did, they bought one, and before I knew it, I was on my way to Vancouver to shoot an episode titled “The Message.”

In the story, a young Deaf woman, Jennifer, gets cochlear implants, but her doctors tell her the surgery has failed.

Despite the doctors’ assessment, Jennifer starts hearing something—a series of numbers. Everyone thinks she’s crazy except for the mysterious hospital janitor, who, Jennifer discovers, is really an astrophysicist quite possibly able to unlock the meaning of the binary code she keeps hearing. Okay, I said it was
The Outer Limits
.

A number of Deaf children were cast in the show, and normally I love spending time with children, but I was feeling sick. I was really hoping it wasn’t the flu.

The shoot wasn’t long, just a little over a week, but as the days went on, I wasn’t feeling better. It took everything for me to get through the days—even indulging in my favorite junk food wasn’t helping. I was so cranky to the cast and crew—and so unlike myself on the set—that I apologized to everyone before I left.

Toward the end of the week, I started wondering if I might be feeling sick for another reason.

Kevin and I had been trying for about a year to have a baby. We were both incredibly healthy, so I couldn’t imagine that anything was wrong, but I talked to my doctor. That’s when I learned all about the rhythms of my cycle—Kevin’s the Catholic in the family, he should have known all about that!

We’d just recently gone from the make-love-anytime-you-feel-
like-it approach to paying a little attention to the timing. Could it have happened that quickly?

I started thinking about buying a home pregnancy test, but I didn’t want to wait until I got back to L.A.—someone might see me, and any information in Hollywood seems to be fair game for the tabloids.

I wanted to keep this under the radar for two reasons. First, it would be so sad for us if it wasn’t true; and second, if it was, I needed to keep working and it’s far harder to get the next film or the next TV episode if you’re pregnant. Sad, but true.

So I slipped out one day, all alone, and went in search of a pharmacy in Vancouver. I found one, found a pregnancy test, and packed it. I didn’t want to find out the answer so far from Kevin and from my doctor.

I got home on a Wednesday and Kevin was still at work. I was exhausted, and not just from the travel. I couldn’t sleep the night before, I couldn’t keep anything down, and I couldn’t stop thinking about taking that test.

As soon as I walked in the door about eleven thirty that morning, I dropped my bags, rummaged through them for the pregnancy test, and headed to the bathroom. I was shaking.

I took the test, counted the seconds, then checked. There it was—a plus! I was over the moon; I had a plus! But it was early; if I was pregnant, I was just barely pregnant. I wanted to be sure. A call to Dr. Schapira’s office and a plea—“I need a blood test right away.”

“Why?” he asked. I didn’t answer. “Okay, come on in.”

Since he was not my ob-gyn, he had no idea what to think, I’m sure.

When I walked in, it was still the lunch hour. “I’m here for a blood test.” The nurse asked why. “I got a plus on a home pregnancy test.” She smiled. They drew my blood, then I asked to please, please let me know that very day. They explained that normally it takes two days. No, no, no, I wanted to know now. I kept insisting, asked to talk to the doctor. Dr. Schapira listened, sighed, smiled, and told me to come back in a couple of hours. Did I mention he has the greatest smile?

Now my mind is going crazy. If I’m pregnant, really pregnant, how am I going to surprise Kevin? I headed to a nearby Rexall, right across from the Beverly Center, and went to the baby section to look around.

When I got back to the doctor’s office, the nurse said. “The doctor wants to see you in his office.”

“Can’t you just tell me?”

“No, sorry, the doctor wants to see you.”

Sitting in his office, I was nervous. I kept waiting and waiting and waiting. I was beginning to wonder if they’d forgotten I was in there. Finally he walked in, looking serious. He sat down and took a deep breath and said, “Congratulations, you’re pregnant.”

I started to cry and cry and cry.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I’m just happy, so happy. It’s taken a year!”

I laughed, blew my nose, and he hugged me.

Then I went home to wait for Kevin. He remembers, “I came home from work around six and looked around for Marlee. I finally found her in the kitchen. She was standing there with a pacifier in
her mouth. I looked at her kinda funny, then she pulled the pregnancy test out from behind her back. And I grabbed her and just held her.”

Preggers with our first child

We hugged and cried and hugged some more. We started talking about all the things that we needed to do to get ready for this baby. Kevin finally said, “We’ve got to go get something to eat.” So we went to this little Italian place on Third Street, nothing fancy, it had a little red awning and served home-style Italian food. Simple place, the best dinner of my life!

While we were eating, Kevin said, “Well, I have a surprise for you, too. I bought tickets for the two of us to go to Hawaii for your thirtieth birthday.”

Now, I’m an actress, I should be able to pull off the thrilled-because-your-husband-surprised-you-with-tickets-to-Hawaii reaction, but I was having a hard time of it. My birthdays are usually not two-person affairs. They range from crowded to massive. I honestly didn’t know how to tell Kevin I was really hoping to have a big party at home. So I didn’t.

Besides, I tried telling myself, we were still getting used to this whole baby thing, so maybe a quiet getaway with just the two of us would be perfect.

G
ETTING PREGNANT WAS
definitely worth it—
they
are definitely worth it, my children. But with all four I had the worst morning sickness for the first three months. I could not keep much of anything down. Just the smell of chicken would send me flying for the nearest bathroom. The nose-stomach connection for me was so intense that if I was even downwind of a chicken restaurant, I would know it—my insides would start churning.

One day in August during my first pregnancy as I was nearing the end of my third month, I threw up. It was worse than usual and the barf was so violent that some splashed back up on my face from the toilet. Yuck!

After that, I washed my face, brushed my teeth, looked myself in the bathroom mirror, and said, “That’s it! I am not doing this anymore!” And that was the end of it. The morning sickness stopped.

In case you’re wondering, yes, I tried it with the three pregnancies that followed, hoping it was just a mind-over-matter thing. But, no. It would only work when I was heading into that fourth month. I guess I just got lucky that day.

That was a good thing because Kevin and I were due to head to Hawaii in a few days for the birthday trip he’d planned. Jack was already on his way to Italy to attend the baptism of a friend’s kid.

We headed first to the island of Lanai. It’s so beautiful there; if you get the chance, you should go. I had a great time relaxing, swimming, reading on the beach, eating, which thankfully I could do again. Jack called from Italy to wish me a happy birthday. It was the first birthday of mine he’d missed since we started working together a decade earlier.

On the last day we were in Lanai, I got flowers from Henry and Stacey wishing me a happy thirtieth. I was thrilled, but thought it was so strange that they knew where we were. Then we were off to Maui, with no time to second-guess.

The weather in Maui was miserable, cold for Hawaii, and I was miserable. On my birthday, Kevin left and said he’d be back in an hour. He didn’t come back for three and a half hours—I was not a happy camper. It was my birthday, I was pregnant, I was alone, I missed Lanai.

He finally got back about four fifteen and said, “Let’s hit the showers, I’ve gotten a car and made a reservation for us to go to a different hotel for a luau.” I didn’t understand why we had to be in such a rush, but he said we had to be there by five. “I told them it was your birthday and they want to sing, so we really have to go.”

I was not moving fast, or at least not fast enough for Kevin. He was gentle but he kept hurrying me along. It seemed as if nothing was going right, the shower didn’t work, I didn’t really have anything I wanted to wear. My hair was wet. Finally he said, “Just put your hair in a ponytail, there’s no time to blow it dry.”

When we got in the car, Kevin floored it! I’d never seen him drive so fast. “What are you doing? We’re having a baby, slow down!” When we got to the hotel, the valet seemed to recognize
him and took the car right away. We got out and Kevin started running; he ran, I walked. When we got there, we found a bunch of empty tables, and I thought to myself,
Great birthday, I just want to go back to Lanai.

Check out Jack’s coconuts!

Then the show started. The hostess said, “Okay, everyone get up, we’re going to learn the hula.” I’m thinking,
Thanks a lot, Kevin
. But I got up, and the next thing I saw was Jack onstage wearing a coconut bra and a grass skirt doing the hula. Then everybody from my family started pouring out onto the stage.

And so began my thirtieth birthday party, with dozens of friends and family who’d flown in to celebrate with me, including Jack, who clearly wasn’t in Italy at all.

It was the most incredible birthday ever. Kevin had managed to keep it a complete surprise—and I thought I was the only actor in the family.

He and Jack had been planning it for months. The present I treasure most is a big book filled with birthday memories from all
my friends and family. They’d asked everyone to send in a page—writing as much or as little as the person wanted.

I look through it now and am reminded of how rich I am from the love and support I get from the friends I’ve made over the years. The book is about two inches thick, and if I’m ever feeling down, I only need to pull it out and open it to any page and I know I’ll feel better.

Every page is a favorite. Many recapture moments that are incredibly special to me. Some from those who are especially dear to me I won’t share, but here are snippets from a few that made me laugh or made me cry:

From my friend Janet: “I’ve learned many things from you. Below I’ve listed just a few: 1. Choose your friends carefully and only show your tattoo to those who are worthy.”

From my friend Kirstie: “Dear Marlee, I love you madly, however, you are now too old for me.”

From my former accountant Gary: “Dear Marlee, You
do not
owe City National Bank $1,000,000 by the way.”

From Arsenio: “Would you give me one of your cars to put my ‘SWDJB’ plate on?”

From Billy Joel: a “Happy Birthday” and a sketch of the piano man as a piano! It’s amazing how a face can fit into the shape of a baby grand.

From my friend Kathy: “You know, Marlee, one of my very first auditions as an actress was for the movie
Children of a Lesser God.
And you got it. Thank God! Cause if I had to swim naked in that pool I know I would have gotten a chest cold. But then again at least something would have been on my chest.”

From my dearest Henry: “To watch you become the woman you are today gives me a sense of pride, touches me deeply and brings the hugest smile to my face.”

And finally, from my mom and dad, who wrote possibly the longest poem known to modern man, thirty-three stanzas in all, ending with: