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Sunlight streams into my bedroom through the open blinds.
I’m eighteen weeks pregnant today.
Twenty weeks since Ben took his last breath.
My chest feels heavy with the thought. I don’t want to dwell on his death on today of all days. The day when I find out the sex of our baby. At my last appointment, Dr. Hershel couldn’t get a clear shot. He thought he knew but I wouldn’t let him tell me. I wanted to wait until he could be one-hundred percent sure.
“Blaire, are you ready?” my mom yells up the steps.
I asked her last night if she’d take me to the appointment and somewhere else afterward. I didn’t want to be alone either place.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I call back, looking around my bedroom.
Despite the fact that it’s still decorated exactly the same, there’s an emptiness in the space. In the whole house, really. I miss hearing Ben laugh from the family room at something on TV. Or the smell of bacon in the morning when he’d make breakfast. I miss so many little things—things that never seemed that important before.
I find my mom waiting by the front door downstairs. She might be even more excited than I am.
She ushers me into the car and we’re quiet on the drive to the doctor’s office. I think she knows that even as happy as I am about today there’s a part of me that’s incredibly sad too. Ben should be here, holding my hand, and waiting with bated breath for the news of whether or not we’re having a baby boy or girl. At least my mom can be here with me but it’s not the same. It never will be.
She parks and we head inside the building. I sign in and sit down to wait.
“Are you nervous?” my mom asks me when she picks up a magazine with a cover of a smiling mom and baby.
“No,” I answer honestly. “I’ll be happy either way.”
She smiles and pats my knee. “I know that.” She laughs lightly. “I meant are you nervous about being here without Ben?”
I don’t wince at his name like I would have even a month ago. “Not nervous, but sad.” I twist my lips in thought. “He should be here for this, but he can’t be and that sucks. It really freaking sucks.” My hand falls to my growing bump. It suddenly popped out more in the last week. I was slow in showing, probably due to the weight I lost after Ben died.
She takes my hand and holds it in hers. “You’re doing so much better, though, Blaire. Focus on that.”
I nod. “I am.”
I’m doing better. I really am. I still have my moments, where I feel sad or the grief becomes too much, but I don’t feel like that all the time the way I did initially. Now those moments come briefly throughout the day and then I’m better until they come along again.
When it becomes apparent I’m not going to be called back any time soon, I pick up a magazine and flick through the pages.
“Man, babies need a lot of things,” I comment, glancing horrified at the pages. “Expensive things,” I add.
My mom laughs and takes the magazine from my hand and puts it back on the table. “They do,” she agrees, “but don’t stress about that. Your dad and I will help you.”
I shake my head back and forth rapidly. “No,” I say sternly, “you will not.”
“We were talking about moving back up here,” she admits.
“Mom.” My eyes widen in surprise. “You guys love it in Florida. Please don’t move back here because of me.”
“We’re only talking about it.” She shrugs. “It might not happen.”
“Mom,” I say sternly and she looks over at me, “you guys wouldn’t be happy back here. Not permanently, anyway.”
“We’d be happier than you think.”
“I don’t need you to take care of me forever. I’ve been so incredibly thankful that you guys dropped everything to stay with me.” Tears pool in my eyes. “I know it might not seem that way with how bitchy I can be, but it really has meant a lot. And I’ll miss you so much when you’re gone, but I’ll be fine. I can do this.” I look down at my bump and smile. “I know I can.”
She wraps her arms around me and hugs me tight. “I know you can too, B.”
When she pulls away, there are tears in her eyes too. Before I can say anything else, a nurse calls my name. “Blaire Kessler?” I stand and my mom does too. We follow the nurse down the hall into the room. She goes over her usual series of questions and I answer them as best as I can. “The doctor will be in with you shortly,” she says cheerily before closing the door.
