So Much for My Happy Ending (17 page)

When the nurse left us alone Tad examined the gown as I made work of my shoes and pants. “You have to tie this in front?” he asked, shaking his head in bewilderment. “Won't that make you uncomfortable?”

“Well, my womb is a lot closer to my stomach than my backbone.” I pulled off my top but hesitated before removing my bra and panties.

Tad started to hum the tune of “Sexual Healing.”

“Shut up, I'm still pissed at you and you don't get to watch me strip while I'm angry. Turn around.”

Tad sighed and did as he was told. “In half a minute a stranger is going to come in here and massage your breasts, but you want your husband to turn around.”

“The stranger who will be
checking
my breasts has never lied to me.” I grabbed the gown from him as he dangled it over his shoulder and tied the ribbons as tightly as I could, although I was still left perversely exposed.

Tad turned around and was about to reply to my last point when Dr. Griffin walked in. She was a woman who looked to be in her early fifties. She wore her silver hair in a neat bob that she had tucked behind her ears. After introducing herself she flipped open my chart and read through the information. “All your blood tests look good,” she said and smiled at me. “Of course, you would have been notified if we found anything unusual. How have you been feeling?”

I looked at Tad and considered telling her that I had recently found myself suppressing murderous impulses. “I've been a little queasy but other than that I'm fine.”

“Queasy's good. It's a sign things are going normally.” She glanced at Tad and then back to me. “I'm going to do a pelvic exam. Do you feel comfortable with him being here?”

“He'll wait outside,” I said quickly. Tad shot me a withering look. I knew he thought my demand stemmed from the same anger that prevented me from getting undressed in front of him, but he was wrong. Even if last night had never happened and instead he had managed to convince me that he was the new Messiah, I still wouldn't have allowed him to watch Dr. Griffin probe me with a set of stainless-steel prongs. I mean, that would be right up there with allowing him to watch my beautician give me an upper-lip wax.

Tad reluctantly agreed to wait in the hallway until that part of the exam was over. Dr. Griffin did her thing and then stepped out long enough to give him a heads-up that he was being allowed reentry.

“Everything seems normal,” Dr. Griffin informed us as she checked my breasts for unwanted lumps.

Tad had cast his eyes downward, although I had a feeling the gesture was to prevent my discomfort rather than a response to any personal embarrassment of his own. “I still can't believe I'm going to be a dad,” I heard him whisper. I closed my eyes and tried to absorb some of his joyful anticipation. But I couldn't get myself there. What I needed to do was call Bobe and break the news to her. Surely she could raise my enthusiasm. Not so my mother, who had been buying me condoms since I was old enough to menstruate. For Bobe the continuation of the family bloodline was a victory over the genocide that had killed her family. I immediately resolved to call her right after the appointment. I owed this child to Bobe. My doubts about wanting it were not only unnatural, they were selfish.

“Now, let's see if we can get a heartbeat.”

My eyes flew open. “You can do that already?” Tad and I asked in unison.

“We should be able to. Looking at your chart, you should be about eight weeks along.” She pulled out a flat instrument, attached to a curled-up cord, placed it on my belly and began to slowly move it around. Tad crept closer and I strained my neck to see what was going on. For the first time in almost twenty-four hours our eyes met. He smiled at me with so much love and excitement, for a minute I forgot to be mad and extended my hand to him instead. He instantly grabbed it, moving closer to my side.

It's going to be all right,
my little voice told me. How could it not be? Obviously Tad wanted this child enough for both of us. That kind of parental devotion had to be contagious, right?

Together we watched Dr. Griffin move the machine around my belly button. And then something horrible happened—Dr. Griffin frowned.

“What, what is it?” Tad straightened his posture, never letting go of my hand.

Dr. Griffin coughed into her free hand before answering. “I think we should do a quick ultrasound.”

The color drained from Tad's face. “Why, what's wrong?”

Dr. Griffin turned to us, her eyes relaying her unease. “I'm not picking up a heartbeat.”

A
fter that, there was a flurry of activity. I was rushed into a room for an ultrasound, and was poked and prodded with frightening-looking instruments. My doctor examined one murky image after another on a large screen, frowning all the while. Tad never left my side. There must have been a moment or two in which he wasn't holding my hand but those moments were so fleeting that I didn't notice them. I just held on to him and tried to draw comfort from his presence even while the whole world seemed to be crashing around me. Finally we were brought back to the room where all the chaos had started. Now both Tad and I were sitting on the patient table, our feet dangling over the side as we waited for Dr. Griffin to tell us what was going on.

She sat on her metal stool with her hands folded in her lap. It struck me that her pose was a little too practiced, as if she had delivered this kind of news before. “Based on the ultrasound, you have what we call a blighted ovum.”

Tad shook his head and stood up. “Tell us in English, please, why couldn't you find a heartbeat?”

Dr. Griffin nodded and took a deep breath. “Something went wrong very early in the development of the pregnancy. Your placenta is developing as it should and the conditions of your body are right for supporting a fetus, but the problem is that the fetus itself doesn't exist. It never developed. That is what a blighted ovum is. You are pregnant but you're not carrying a child.”

There was a hissing sound as I sucked air in through my gritted teeth. Surely this was some kind of dream, or some weird sci-fi movie that I had been unknowingly cast in. Things like this didn't happen. At least not to me.

I looked to Tad as if he could somehow make sense of everything. He let go of my hand and used his arm to draw me to him protectively. “I don't understand. Is there any chance that this is a mistake?”

“No, the ultrasound was conclusive.” Dr. Griffin crossed her legs and straightened her posture. “It's not all that uncommon.” She tilted her head in my direction. “You will most likely experience a natural miscarriage within the next two weeks, but if you like we can schedule a D and C just in case.”

“A D and C?” Tad's irritation, brought on by yet another foreign medical term, was evident in his tone.

“Dilation and curettage. A relatively simple procedure in which we remove the placenta and any other tissue that has developed during the pregnancy.”

“An abortion?” I whispered. None of this was happening, none of this was real.

“No, there's no fetus to abort,” Dr. Griffin explained. “The procedure would just hurry along what your body would most likely do anyway. There is a three percent chance that there will be complications, in which case future conception may become more difficult, but for most women there's about a day's recovery time and then everything goes back to normal.”

I bit my lip and looked away. I still couldn't wrap my mind around this. I wasn't pregnant. Or I was, but I wasn't with child. For the last two weeks I had been trying to prepare myself for the role of mother, when in actuality I should have been preparing for the role of freak. I put my hand on my stomach and I remembered the moment Allie and I had found out that I was pregnant. I remembered crying and later praying that it was some kind of mistake. I put my hand over my mouth and stifled a gag.

Tad tightened his grip around me. “It's up to you, April.” His voice trembled as he said my name.

I shook my head. I couldn't make a decision. I didn't deserve to make a decision.

Tad raised his hand as if to scratch his cheek, but I had already seen the tears that he was trying to hide. He turned to Dr. Griffin. “We need a moment.”

She looked at the clock on the wall and made a face. “Why don't you go home and talk about it. There's no hurry. Call when you're ready.”

“I think we're going to make a decision now but we need a minute alone beforehand.”

She looked at the clock again, but Tad interrupted before she could voice an objection.

“You just told my wife that the child she had begun to bond with basically died before it had a chance to live. I'm sure your other patients will understand if you give us a few minutes to talk about our options.”

Dr. Griffin only hesitated a second before leaving the room to give us space.

“I feel like an idiot,” I said to the floor.

Tad stood in front of me and put a hand on either side of my face. “You're not an idiot.” He leaned forward and rested his forehead against mine. I could hear the jaggedness of his breathing as he struggled to rein in his emotions. “What do you want to do, April?”

I clutched the table beneath me as if I was in danger of losing my balance. “I don't think I'm strong enough to wait for a miscarriage, Tad.”

Tad pulled back and lifted my chin so that I was looking into his eyes once again. “You won't have to go through that. I'll make sure of it.”

Tad spent the next forty-five minutes arguing with Dr. Griffin and the receptionists at the front desk. They wanted to schedule the D and C in four days but Tad wanted it done immediately. I sat in a chair in the lobby the whole time, barely speaking. He was so wonderful to look out for me like this. He didn't know that I wasn't worthy of his help.

Tad finally settled on an appointment for the following day. He helped me to my feet and guided me out to the parking lot and to his car. I put my hand on his before he had a chance to pull on the handle of the passenger door. “I have my car here,” I reminded him.

“I know—” he carefully removed my hand from his and opened the door “—I'll drive you home. Later I'll take a cab back here and pick up your car.”

“You don't need to do that.”

“Please, April.” His voice cracked. “Let me help you.”

I hesitated only a moment before lowering myself into the seat. We didn't say a word on the ride home. At one point the car hit a pothole and I was struck by a wave of morning sickness. I couldn't help but think about what that was supposed to mean and what it didn't mean after all.

When we got home I walked into the middle of the living room and just stood there. Tad came up behind me and removed my coat. “Sit down, April.”

I didn't comply. “Do you know what I did when the pregnancy test came back positive?” I asked, staring into our darkened fireplace. “I sat down on Allie's toilet and cried.” Now I turned and faced Tad, who was still standing there holding my coat. “I cried my eyes out.” I marched past him and grabbed one of the pregnancy books that rested on top of our low bookcase and held it up for Tad's view. “I told Caleb that I bought all these books so that I could do everything right, but that was a lie. The truth was that I thought by reading a whole bunch of ‘how to be the perfect pregnant woman' books I would be able to get excited about the whole thing, but it didn't work. All I could think of was how this was going to affect
my
future,
my
career,
my
relationship with you. I never thought about the needs of our baby, and now the baby's gone and I'm relieved. That's how cold I am, Tad…I'm fucking relieved.” I collapsed into the cushions of the couch. I wanted to cry but the tears didn't come. The only thing tangible for me was an overpowering feeling of self-loathing.

Tad folded my coat over his arm. “Are you finished?”

“Almost,” I said in a barely audible whisper. “You were right about me. I fucked up on the birth control pill. I didn't always remember to take it at the right time and I didn't read the warning label on the minocycline. I'm a screwup, and I am…” I searched for some word that would aptly describe the kind of monster I was, but my vocabulary failed me. “I'm not a good person.” I drew my knees up to my chest. “You must hate me.”

“I have never loved a woman more in my life.” I looked up at him and he crossed the room and slowly lowered himself to my side. “April, you've known you were pregnant for just over two weeks now. It wasn't planned and it was going to make some things difficult. If we had been given time we would have adjusted and we would have loved our kid, but no one in their right mind would question your maternal instincts just because you didn't bond with an embryo.” He took both my hands in his and gently caressed them with his thumbs. “I won't lie, I wanted this baby. I wanted to bring a life into this world that was half you and half me.”

Once again a tear rolled down his cheek and I freed my right hand in order to wipe it away, but then stopped myself feeling like the gesture would seem false, considering the recent revelations into my character.

Tad sighed and pressed my hand against his face. “It will happen, April. You are going to be a wonderful mom.” He looked me in the eye. “When you're ready. Until then you'll just be…wonderful.”

I fell into his arms. I loved him so much it literally hurt. “I don't know what I did to deserve you,” I murmured as I clung to him.

“We have each other,” he said in a voice so low that I wondered if he was talking to me or himself. “That's what's important, everything else will come.”

We held each other for what seemed like hours. Finally Tad pulled back from me. He smoothed my hair and then stood up. “I'm going to call a cab so I can go get your car.” He cocked his head to the side. “Are you going to be all right? Is there anything I can get you?”

I quickly looked away. There was something I wanted and the pettiness of my desire disturbed me.

“What is it, April?” Tad kneeled down on the couch once again. “Just tell me.”

“You promise not to judge?”

“I won't judge. What can I get you?”

“Well, if you have time, I mean you don't have to or anything…”

“Whatever it is I'll do it, but you have to tell me.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “If you're sure you don't mind…could you possibly stop by 7-Eleven and pick up a box of Twinkies?”

 

I did eventually cry. In the middle of the night, snuggled into the crook of Tad's arm while he slept, I let the tears spill. But I wasn't crying over my loss as much as I was crying out of gratitude. How could I ever have been angry at Tad for something as trivial as being late on the rent? Yeah, he had lied to me, but it was so obvious that his faults were nothing compared to his strengths. And now that I was thinking clearly I could see that his arguments made sense. Tad obviously knew me well enough to know that I could be incredibly irresponsible. Perhaps it was predictable that I would mess up on my birth control, in which case it was understandable that he felt he needed to do what was necessary in order to secure a house for us. Really, it was amazing that someone like him would want to be with someone like me. It was like that movie
City of Angels
with Nicolas Cage and Meg Ryan. Tad was playing Nicolas's role of the angel that fell for the well-intentioned but flawed human. I propped myself up on my elbow and gazed at his sleeping face. He even looked like an angel.

“I'm going to draw you,” I whispered. Tad didn't stir. Tad needed less shut eye than anyone I knew, but when he did sleep he was dead to the world. I quietly slipped out of bed and pulled a small sketchbook and pencil out of the night stand. I sat by the window where the streetlamp provided me with just enough light, and began to draw. I was at it for a good hour before I stopped and actually saw what I had created. It was Tad, no doubt about that. But he didn't look nearly as peaceful as he did lying before me, wrapped in our teal sheets. The man on my sketch pad looked anguished, and just a little bit frightening. I glided my hand across the picture before tearing out the page and ripping it up.

 

First thing the next morning I called Liz. I used the five minutes I was on hold to think up and then discard possible excuses as to why I couldn't come in. Telling her I was sick was useless. I could lose a leg in a car accident and Liz would expect me to put on a tube skirt and hop on in. I could tell her that I had a miscarriage but then she would assume I had been trying to get pregnant and that could only be bad for me. Plus, I didn't want to share what had happened with Liz. Today a doctor would stick some cold instrument inside me and scrape away all remnants of my pregnancy. It wasn't the type of thing that I wanted Liz to cheer me through.

“I'm sorry, she's not answering her page, can I put you through to her voice mail.”

“No, no, put me through to Sassy instead.”

A few clicks and a lot of elevator music later I was on the line with Gigi. “Hi, April! What's up?”

“Hey, Gigi, I know you're probably wondering why I'm not there since we were going to open together…”

“Oh no, it's only seven and I know you usually get here later. No biggie.”

That stopped me for a moment. I never got a lot of enjoyment from my exchanges with Gigi, but that was the first veiled insult that she had ever thrown at me. “I scheduled us to get there at seven-thirty,” I said slowly, “but I won't be able to come in today.”

“No problem,” she said a little too brightly. “I have everything covered. We got the most awesome shipment in today—totally to die for.”