“Maybe you waited too long.”
One time, he looked at me and said, “Maybe stress is part of your problem.” And “Maybe your body just doesn’t know how to do this.”
Then I got pregnant.
I let too much go because I wanted peace more than truth.
Then I got pregnant.
I didn’t believe it at first. I took three tests. Then I sat on the bathroom floor and cried so hard I got dizzy.
After so many losses and near misses, I got protective. I did not want to tell him too early and risk watching his hope collapse with mine. So I waited until the anatomy scan, when I was far enough along to breathe a little.
That was when I learned the baby was a girl.
When Michael got home, he looked around and frowned.
I smiled the whole way home.
I really believed he would love her the second it became real.
I made dinner that night. I lit candles. I tied pink ribbons around the dining chairs. I bought a small pink box and tucked the ultrasound photo inside.
When Michael got home, he looked around and frowned.
“What is all this?”
I was nervous enough to shake. “Sit down.”
He went very still.
He gave me a strange look but sat.
I handed him the box.
He opened it, pulled out the ultrasound, and said, “What am I looking at?”
I smiled.
“Our daughter,” I said. “I’m pregnant.”
He went very still.
He shoved his chair back and stood.
Then he slammed his hand on the table so hard the glasses rattled.
“What did you say?”
My smile dropped. “I said I’m pregnant.”
