A/N: This is my first fanfic. Well, I've got nothing to add to that. It's just a warning, really. The title comes from a quote by Dan Quayle- "the future will be better tomorrow."
Disclaimer: Friends is not mine. If it was, it'd still be going.
Takes place between 10x05 and 10x06. No real reason to mention it, except it's the episode before the adoption storyline really kicks into gear, and the official proceedings start.
When I was a kid, I just expected to have children one day. Like babies materialise out of thin air, or you can buy them from some store. As a child, I didn't think about the technicalities of it all. I thought "I want to get married" and "I want to have children" were the same statement. I thought that you couldn't get pregnant without being married. It wasn't not until 8th grade when one of the only girls that was ever nice to me "fell wrong", as my mom put it at the time, at the age of 14, that I really realized that girls could fall pregnant without even wanting to. If I'd gotten pregnant at 14- quite the miracle, anyway, given that I wouldn't lose my virginity until junior year of college- I would not have considered an abortion. I don't begrudge anyone having one and would never stop someone, but I just could not bring myself to do it, no matter how desperate my situation.
I didn't know what "infertile" meant when I was a child. I didn't realize that some people can't have children. I certainly never considered the fact that you may be in that devastating 2 percent. I never even considered it when I was trying for a baby. It is the most awful thing in the world, finding out you can't have children when that's what you've wanted your whole life.
Before I found out I was infertile, I thought that when I found out I was pregnant, I'd be ecstatic. Jumping up and down like a hyperactive child, running out to tell Rachel and Joey, even before I'd told Chandler. Instead, I daren't move, in case I harm the baby. This is stupid, I know, because the baby is protected by amniotic fluid and it'd take a hard blow to harm the baby. But, still, I feel suddenly fragile, like I'm going to crack if I breathe too hard. The doctor told me that if I ever did get pregnant, due to my "inhospitable environment", it would be a high-risk pregnancy. Basically, even if I defied the odds and got pregnant, the odds were low I'd carry it to term. I know I'm going to take meticulous care of myself from this moment on.
Instead of running out to apartment 19 to scream my news to Joey and Rachel, I commit myself to not telling anyone except Chandler for twelve weeks. That's how long everyone else waits when they've had fertility problems, so that's how long I'm going to wait. It seems pretty reasonable- three months is the end of the first trimester It's going to be hard to hide such major news from them, but it's not going to be the first time that Chandler and I have hid some major news about our relationship, is it? I know they'll understand.
I can't wait for Chandler to come home. Usually, I like a little alone time and treasure the half-hour before he comes home from work. Today, I'm counting the seconds. I try watching TV, but nothing appeals to me. Doing anything but sitting perfectly still is intimating, so I just sit and think. In nine months- less, I don't know how long I've been pregnant- I'm going to have a baby. We're going to have a baby. Finally. I had my baby's names picked out at 14 but that's all changed now. I've realized that nothing is certain and deciding so solidly on something so far from the event is a little stupid. Plus, Rachel's stolen my girl's name, so I'm back to square one on that front.
I'm already thinking. Actually, when I was waiting in the fertility clinic after I found out, I was playing a more-than-slightly masochistic game with myself. I was trying to have a girl's name for every letter of the alphabet. Amber. Bella. Carol. Most people would struggle for X beyond Xena, but not me. While most girls spent their formative years with their noses stuck in Cosmo, I spent mine thumbing through baby names books that I spent my allowance on. I opt for Xylia over Xantara, because the latter sounds too much like a cartoon Ross would watch on a Saturday morning. I have no shortage of ideas. I've already decided that the name is going to be conservative, because I don't want to inflict any extra bullying on the kid if it gets my metabolism and level of self-control. Chandler, I know, is going to suggest crazy names that he will present as a joke, but is deadly serious about but is, ironically, afraid at being laughed at over them. I won't laugh, but I won't take them seriously, either. The Lucys and the Joshes I will think about, but the Liberties and Jetsons will be cast aside without a thought.
I have two models of what the nursery will be like. One for a boy and one for a girl. I really hope the baby's a girl purely for this reason. My planned room- which will likely be almost identical to the real thing- for the girl is so much prettier than the boy's. I tried my best for the boy but I don't really understand boys. Men, I can basically understand. Boys? Not so much. When it comes to the boy's room, I will be having to consult Chandler. Or maybe Joey, given that Chandler's taste is even girlier than mine.
The door opens. He's home. So busy considered the long-term future, I've forgotten about now- how do I say it? "I'm pregnant" sounds like bad news to me. I imagine that nice 14-year-old girl saying that to her parents after she got pregnant by her scumbag of a boyfriend. "I'm with child" sounds so impersonal, like I've been abducted and impregnated by aliens. If I say "We've got a bun in the oven" Chandler is likely to take at face value. So "we're having a baby" will have to do. There's a nice feelings about that one.
"Evening, boys and girls" Chandler greets, frowning when I burst out laughing at how appropriate this token greeting is. "Are you high?"
"No... no. Well, I am, but I'm totally sober. And I'm going to be staying totally sober for a while."
"Should I call for an ambulance?"
I shake my head, grinning widely. "Maybe in a little while."
"I feel like you're implying something. But I don't get it."
"I think you should sit down," I say, patting the spot next to me.
"Okay, now I think somebody's died," he says, then looks like he notices how happy I am. "Somebody's died that you hate, given that you're so happy about it. Is it Janice?"
"No, it's not that," I reply. My throat feels like it's closed in on itself, suddenly. I'm not feeling so blissful now. Saying it aloud, to someone else, is going to confirm it. I don't know why this scares me, it just does. Maybe it's the thought that if only you know, it's a bit of a fantasy, so if you lose it, it won't hurt so much. I have to tell him. This baby is half-his, he has to be allowed to share in either the ecstasy or the devastation of it all. "We're having a baby."
"Whose?" he asks.
Suddenly, I realize that "I'm pregnant", as prosaic as it is, would have been the best. No room for misinterpretation. "No, we're having a baby."
He blinks at me, not daring to comprehend me. "You're pregnant?"
"I'm pregnant," I confirm. I realize that it feels wonderful to say it.
"For definite?"
"I took three tests from three different stores. I mean, I want to get it confirmed by the doctor and everything... but, it's pretty definite."
I've never seen him look this happy before, not even at our wedding. He is smiling from ear to ear. "I thought we were never going to have this."
"But we have."
"This is the first time I've ever wanted to frame a stick with pee on it," he says. "Just so I can tell myself every morning... that it's actually happening."
"Maybe I'll tattoo 'I am pregnant' on my forehead so it'll be the first thing you see every morning."
"I'll pay for it. And the laser surgery you'll have to have after you give birth."
He kisses me there, and strokes his thumb over it. "I can see it now."
"It'll match the "Property of Chandler M. Bing" tattoo on my ass."
"There's an idea. Because, you know, that's actually the first thing I look at every morning."
I smile, and swat his shoulder with one hand. I realize, then, that my other hand is on my stomach, in the universal pose of mothers-to-be everywhere. That's when it hits me, and I start to cry. "Whoa, whoa, what is it? This is happy news!"
"I'm just thinking I don't think I could even... what if we go to the doctor's tomorrow and it's not true?"
He takes a deep breath, as if even considering the possibility is painful."Then we'll be crushed, but we'll get over it," he said. "We'll adopt, like we were planning to. We're going to have a family, whether it comes out of you or not."
I laugh, a little, sniffling. "I wanted this so much, Chandler. Now, I have it, I don't know what to do with it."
"Me too."
He starts to kiss me, and I grab onto his shoulders with all my strength, as if without him, I'd be falling. And I think I would be. He pulls back, and strokes my hair. I lie on his shoulder, and stare at the TV, blank and empty. I think of my womb this way, now filled with life. Life the size of a peanut, but still there's life growing inside of me. I know it is true, I can feel it deep down.
We are having a baby. It's not a question of "whose?", now. This child is going to be ours in every way.
TBC
Please leave a review! It'd make a new author happy.
