I had decided after Emilee that I wasn't going to have any more kids.
But that aside, I did not want to be pregnant with his child. I wanted to walk out that door and never have to look at him again.
My first thought was to terminate the pregnancy. I am prochoice, so I don't have issues with abortion. I thought I could have an abortion and then never even tell him.
But I couldn't. And it had absolutely nothing to do with him.
I can't explain the feeling and I think the only way you can have it is to be a mother. I was sitting in my car after having gotten a definitive pregnancy test (to over ride the two red lines on the stick) and I just knew I was going to have it.
I remember sitting there, putting my keys in the ignition of my Mazda and then just having this wave of perfect calm wash over me as I knew. I was going to have another child.
I waited to tell him.
It was hard because we had started speaking again. We weren't sleeping in the same room or anything, but we were talking. His parents were coming into town to bring his boys back and I was trying to make myself scarce so as not to interfere. NY wasn't around much while his parents were there. He took off most nights and went out and left his parents and his boys there. I remember thinking that was so tacky seeing as how he rarely saw his folks and his sons had been gone for a few months.
The benefit to him not being around much was that I got to hang out with the boys. NY took off one night around six and the boys and I and his parents all watched Independence Day. I remember the movie because I had just gotten it on discount and the boys hadn't seen it yet. I grabbed some pillows and threw them on the floor and his youngest snuggled right up to me. I had coffee with his mom and chatted with his dad and we all got along very well. But when NY came in, I took myself upstairs and got out of their way. And not in a snotty-I'm-not-talking-to-your-son kind of way but rather in a your-parents-are-here-and-want-to-spend-time-with-all-of-you kind of way.
I came downstairs one morning before I left for work and NY had left a photo on the counter of himself and the chic he had been cheating on me with. It had been taken at a club that NY and I had went to and had our picture taken at. A five dollar Polaroid. I had the exact same picture of he and I, the exact same look on his face. I only looked at it for a moment because I knew he had left it there on purpose and I would be damned before I let him get to me. So, I got my coffee and went to the couch where I said good morning to his mother. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his father go and pick up the picture and take it into what had been mine and NY's room and put it under the pillow. A few minutes later I overheard his dad tell him that he shouldn't leave things like that just laying around. I wanted to hug his dad for trying to keep my feelings from being hurt.
That night I didn't have to work. I went to a movie and then came home and went to bed. At four o'clock that morning, I heard someone open the door to the bedroom and I snuck a peak with my eye barely open. NY was standing in the doorway just staring at me. I closed my eye and waited for him to leave but he just stayed there. Minutes went by and finally I opened my eyes and let him know I was awake. He asked if he could come in and I said ok. He came and sat on the side of the bed. His parents didn't know I had come back and he thought I hadn't come home. He said he had been worried and in being worried had realized how much I meant to him. He was sorry. He was so sorry.
I missed my girls. I wanted them home. I was so confused about what was the right thing to do. I was pregnant and he had no idea. My kids, the most important things in my world were hours away from me and I missed them so much. I told him I was still planning on moving but since the house I was waiting for wasn't ready yet that I was going to bring the girls home. I asked him if I could depend on him to help with the girls and that I would in return keep the boys while he worked. We agreed to be civil to one another. And we were much better at being friends then we were at being lovers.
My girls came home and I moved back downstairs. Most nights he stayed on the couch and I took the bed. Sometimes we slept in the bed together but nothing happened. Then he came home and told me that he thought his new girl friend was pregnant. He said that she was complaining about being sick and saying she was late. Irony huh? Not two weeks later they found out that she wasn't and they broke up.
It was weird. He was looking at me like that again. Like he wanted to marry me and ravage me at the same time. I tried to just stay away from him as much as it was possible. I couldn't touch him. If that isn't a testament to how much chemistry he and I had, I don't know what is. When he walked towards me, I couldn't breathe. When he touched me, anywhere, I couldn't move. If he had told me that it was because of a witch doctor and a spell, I would have believed him. If he got into bed with me, I couldn't sleep. I could close my eyes and count the particles of air that were between our bodies and feel the pull he had on me. Being near him made my skin tingle. I would lay there awake and tortured.
We hit a good patch after he and "Ronica" split up. He was setting it up to where he and I were constantly hanging out by way of taking the kids for pizza or the movies or anything as long as he could include all of us. The kids were jazzed. We hadn't had that much "family" time in a long time. So, it came to be that I told him I was pregnant. I had put the little pregnancy stick thingy into a ziplock bag and I took it out of the box it was in and sat on the bed with him after I had put the kids to bed. I didn't screw around. I handed him the bag and said "I'm pregnant."
Oh he didn't miss a beat. He acted like this was the big magical thing that would fix our world. This was the ultimate band aid for our relationship. We were going to have a baby. All would be right in the world again, we could make it now. And you know what? That is pretty much exactly what a knocked up chic wants to hear. When you are the most scared you want to hear someone say everything is going to be all right. Suddenly I was in his arms and he was peppering me with kisses and telling me he loved me and how he was so excited.
We both chose to ignore the big problems, to forget that the last few months had happened. He called his parents and told them that they would have another grandchild and they were so excited. His mom called me and thanked me for giving him another chance and said that she thought this baby is exactly what we needed. She sent me flowers. I didn't tell my family.
A few weeks later, we were laying in bed, both thinking the other is asleep, completely consumed by our own thoughts when he said my name.
"Yeah?"
"I want to marry you."
Even now replaying those words in my mind make my stomach flip a little. Those are big words to me, they are important words, those are words I don't fool around with. When I get married, whenever it may be, it will be the most serious of decisions. I don't intend to get divorced, I don't intend to marry with an "out".
I didn't say anything and neither did he. Minutes crept by. Then he slid his hand over and took mine.
"This isn't how I wanted to ask. I have been planning on how to ask you for so long. I wanted to do it at Seaworld, with the dolphins and the kids. I will wait and do it again."
Again, nothing. I wasn't sure what to say. Did I want to marry this guy? Did I want to answer yes because he had asked or because I meant it. I wanted to answer yes because I wanted it all to be perfect. And I guess I kept telling myself that if I just tried that it would be.
"Kate?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, aren't you going to say anything? I want to marry you."
I kissed him. And I cried. And we took that as a yes. For the time being.
next...
Labels: History Lesson
