Olivia curls like a cat against me, and I can feel her breathing slow. It's never been easy for her. The fierce, independent part of that drew me in so long ago, is the same part that sometimes just wants to be held. I stare up at the ceiling and wonder which part of her will react when I have to tell her.
Doctor Robinson's voice rings in my ears still. Eleven weeks pregnant. Where were we eleven weeks ago? What argument were we having then? Hormones are never perfect, and it's most probable this, it's hard to think of it as a child, began one lonely night while Sean was in the hospital. She was so vulnerable, so distraught the night I brought her in from the beach. The days afterwards were scattered, but, somewhere in the mess of Sean's surgery and the beginnings of Elaine's trial, we forgot one of the greatest perils of our biology.
What will she say? Discussing the idea that she might be pregnant is miles away from the hard fact that we have little time to pull our lives together enough to welcome a new participant. What kind of family will this new baby be joining? One where the father rants and raves at the boyfriend he can't stand? Where his brother and sister are united only in their disdain for their parents and the apparent need to date anyone whom I despise.
I shudder inwardly and hope that truly isn't the case.
Doctor Robinson was concerned, more than he wanted to admit to me. He's a good doctor, he fought me longer than most. I actually had to remind him that I have power of attorney for my wife and anything he would say to her, he can tell me.
That opened the floodgates of information. Olivia needs to schedule an amniocentesis to check for down syndrome and other genetic diseases. Her blood pressure is too high and Doctor Robinson is worried about her. That's apparent in his naive attempt to keep me from being concerned. He must have been paying attention when I explained how sick she was the last few times she was pregnant.
Of course, now she's eighteen years older. I try to put the thought that things would be easier if she wasn't pregnant out of my mind, but it gnaws at me. Olivia and I could start thinking about retiring. We could travel, and spend time in the gorgeous places in the world we haven't spent nearly enough time in. Instead of holding her hand on the beach in the Mediterranean, I'll be holding her hair in the bathroom in Sunset Beach.
I feel the air slip out of my chest as I sigh heavily. I can't say for certain where we're headed, but it's going to be a more difficult road than I expected. Olivia needs me. I've never felt that more strongly in my life. I should be working. There are things that always need doing but moving will wake her. She needs her sleep, especially considering the morning she had.
What is it going to be like? The last time she was pregnant I nearly ignored her. When she was pregnant with Caitlin I was so busy the entire experience flew by until Caitlin was born. Olivia and I were young and foolish then, we could watch Caitlin grow inside of her without knowing something could go wrong. Losing our son changed things so drastically I don't think either of knew how to survive Sean.
Are more mornings going to be like this one? As much as Olivia's heart has always taken to being pregnant, her body has not. Will she need me to come home from work? Will there be days off to take care of her? Skipped meetings and canceled presentations all to attend ultrasounds and the countless inconveniences that come with a child.
The strange fact that this is what I want feels like an alien knot in my stomach. I imagine myself sitting by her side while we see our child for the first time. That's what father's do, isn't it? Maybe that's what this is, some bizarre second chance at life and each other.
Can we do it? Can we raise one child without hurting him or her the way we've hurt Sean and Caitlin? Can we stay together long enough to make things really work this time?
The phone rings again, shocking me out of my thoughts as I hurry to answer it before Olivia stirs. "Mr. Richards?" The unfamiliar voice begins as I drag myself up and try to rearrange Olivia so she rests on my lap. She moans once, but my hand on her head soothes her.
After a moment, I remember the voice. "Doctor Robinson? What can I do for you?" I ask as I realize who it is. The new doctor we were diverted to takes a moment to make sure it's me.
"I was wondering if your wife was up to talking on the phone yet," the young doctor begins easily. "I wanted to make sure she didn't have any questions or concerns addressed before I saw her again."
"She's asleep doctor," I explain softly. "I actually haven't had a chance to break the news to her yet."
"How's her nausea?" he asks with gentle concern. "Any better?"
"Slightly," I answer for her. "My wife- Olivia-" I correct lightly. "Has never had an easy time of it. I'm afraid she seems to get every nasty symptom of pregnancy you've ever heard off, plus a few unique to her." I smile ruefully even though he can't see it. "She's cold, exhausted, dizzy and nauseated today, and she'll probably add something else tomorrow."
"Cold?" Doctor Robinson repeats in slight surprise. "Usually pregnant women complain of the heat."
"Olivia's always cold," I answer gently. "At least she was the last two times," I shouldn't have left out the miscarriage, I realize as soon as he mentions it.
"Don't you mean three?" he asks with that quiet tact doctor's use when forcing me to confront something unpleasant. "Were there marked differences with the baby you lost?"
"No," I admit as the chill races through my body. "No, nothing was different until that night."
The line stays silent for a long moment.
"You know the risk is there," Doctor Robinson wisely chooses not to patronize me. "After a miscarriage the risk of another is always greater."
"I know," I promise him as I stare down towards Olivia's stomach. Her hands are in my lap with her head, and she seems so fragile here in bed with me.
I can't protect her from what lies within. I can't keep her safe. The rest of the call is brief, and courteous. Doctor Robinson still would like to speak to Olivia but he doesn't understand he'll need to wait until I tell her. I hang up the phone and stare at it while I try to think.
"How am I going to tell you?" I ask Olivia's sleeping form. "How do I make you face that again? How do I dare?"
