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She laughs hysterically. “I want this so bad.”
“I do too, but remember, there is a chance—”
“No, Dr. Livingston felt positive, and so do I. I feel different, Jude, like it worked. I’m so excited.”
Which is what has me on high alert. She’s convinced, but I know the reality. I know she has been making such an effort, cleaning up her diet and working out more. She follows the doctor’s orders to a T, but there is still that chance we aren’t able to make our own babies.
“I am too, baby. I am,” I reassure her. “But please promise me you won’t let this rock you if it isn’t positive. Our new son will be here any day now.”
She nods, though I don’t see the promise in her eyes. “By the way… Tristan said she feels like it’s gonna happen today. Wouldn’t that be amazing? We’re pregnant, and our baby comes today?”
I lean into her once more as I watch the seconds continue to count down. “Yes, baby, it would,” I whisper against her cheek. I feel her body vibrating with each thump of her heart. She’s uber focused on her phone, and I’m thankful she waited for me. She could have taken the test two days ago, but she promised to wait for me to come home. Just like our son has. I feel for Tristan; she’s four days overdue now, but it’s all working out. It may have seemed up in the air at the beginning, but I really feel like things are going our way now.
That we’re truly living our happily ever after.
When the timer rings, I jump just
as she does. She hops up off the bed, and I follow her into the bathroom where the test is lying on the counter.
NOT PREGNANT.
My stomach falls, and I instantly look at Claire’s face to see the tears in her eyes. “But—”
“Baby,” I urge, taking her in my arms. She leans into my chest, but she clings to the test. “Remember what the doctor said. It may not show on the test, but when we go back in for the blood test, it could be positive.”
“But…” She inhales deeply. “But every single time, the test always read pregnant. Even when I lost the babies. What the hell? I really thought I was pregnant.”
She throws the test at the mirror, and it ricochets off and flies behind me, into the tub. I gather her in my arms as she digs her face into my chest, her body shaking violently with sobs. “Claire, these tests aren’t always accurate. You know that. Don’t let this get to you. We said we would wait the two weeks for the blood test.”
She pushes me away, shaking her head. “But it’s supposed to be positive. I feel different, my boobs ache, I even felt a bit nauseated last night. What the fuck does that mean if it doesn’t mean I’m pregnant? Is it in my fucking head?”
The tears that flow down her face are like knives to my heart. “I don’t know, Claire. I don’t. But it’s okay. We can try again if the blood test comes back with the same results. Please breathe.”
I come toward her when she starts to hyperventilate. This isn’t the first time—more like the ninth—she’s had this type of reaction. I was preparing myself since I told her to do the in vitro without me, but now I wish I had asked her to wait. I was being selfish. I wanted her to get pregnant so I could make her happy. I run my hand down her back as she gasps, her tears falling onto the bathroom counter in rivers.
“I’m just so tired of this. I feel like such a failure. I can’t even do the one thing I was put on this earth to do. Procreate!”
“Pretty sure that’s not the only thing, Claire. I mean, look at what you’ve done for the kids at the dance studio, the shelter. For me. Claire, I would be lost without you.”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m bringing you down. I can’t even give you a baby, carry on your name or anything. I’m worthless.”
I close my eyes. Her words hurt. I grab her by her shoulders, whipping her around so our eyes meet. “Stop this right fucking now.”
“You don’t understand how I feel!”
“The fuck I don’t, Claire. I can’t get you pregnant—apparently the one thing you want more than anything! How the hell do you think that makes me feel?”
“It’s not only you,” she screams, her eyes wild. “It’s all me. They took your sperm, shoved it in my egg, and nothing. Fucking nothing! I don’t feel like a woman. I feel like a waste of space. I don’t even know why you’re staying with me.”
My eyes narrow into slits, and I know I should walk away. She’s not thinking; she’s just upset. I should let us both cool down, but I refuse to let her keep feeling that way. “So, you’re saying a waste of space completes me? That a waste of fucking space brings me more joy than a sheet of ice? That my day starts and ends with thoughts of you. I feel like a newlywed, Claire, because I love you so fucking much.”
“I don’t deserve it,” she mutters, shaking her head.
“You deserve it all,” I stress, squeezing her shoulders. “This waste of space you claim to be is about to be a mother to a kid whose parents do not want him. He is about to have a good life because you want him. He’s not even here, you’re not even growing him, and you love him. So, I’m sorry, but you’re not a fucking waste of space! This is a step backward in the baby-making department, but not in how much I love you or need you in my life, Claire. Not in how much River Phillip, or whatever the hell his name is going to be, needs you.”
Her lip quivers as a sob leaves her chest. “I don’t want to let you down.”
“You’re not,” I urge, taking her face in my hands. “The only way you let me down is by speaking of yourself like that. I love you. I love you so damn much. I don’t need anything but you. Kids are added bonuses ’cause I get to watch you be a mom and fall in love with you all over again.”
