Missing an Angel's Heart
Chapter 2
When Kanade missed her first period in a long time, she was ecstatic. It was no means a definitive assumption, but her menstrual cycle usually followed the clock and the absence thereof when she wasn't feeling any other effect was most likely what she hoped it would be. And though she knew it was wiser to get some confirmation first, the excitement was so paramount she ran about in happy squeals and tired herself out before husband could tell a word of caution or wisdom to her.
Of course, he was thrilled with the possibility as well, but less trusting to such an obscure sign. But his wife rarely showed such passion as she did in those moments, and so he kept those misgivings to himself. It was true after all; her cycle almost never deviated from thirty days, and had, in the years he'd been married to her, never exceeded it.
And they'd spent so long it seemed trying and longing that they knew the next steps. To the general doctor and Kanade's heart specialist because he needed to know the moment the possibility became more than effort. And a GP could confirm more accurately than an off the shelf pregnancy test could. 'And,' her husband pointed out, 'we'll need to go to the doctor anyway, so we might as well skip that step.'
Getting an appointment was simple in that time of the year. Most people were on vacation or camp or lazing about at home, and the doctor was able to see them that same afternoon. They drove down to the city after lunch. He greeted them, talked to them, took a blood test – and Kanade had had many of those in her time and was well used to it. Her husband looked away from the needle though; he wasn't as used to them and they still managed to unnerve him. They would get the results the following day, he said. He or the nurse would call when they arrived.
Both of them waited anxiously for that call. Kanade spent the rest of the afternoon listening to her heartbeat through the stethoscope and imagining another heart beating in synergy with hers. The possibility of it being a false alarm, about her missing period being something else entirely, was still there, but hope and desire drowned it out. She wanted this baby. She really wanted this baby, and she couldn't wait forever for him or her.
Her husband called his work, because he knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate a bit before the news came. And together they waited anxiously – because euphoria was like a rush that didn't last and anxiety almost always came to fill the space left behind. The next day both of them were up early and Kanade was feeling slightly ill. Her heart was fluttering instead of its normally smooth song, and the smell of eggs frying in the kitchen felt more nauseating than appetising to her stomach. Her husband cooked some porridge and cut some fruit for the both of them and finished up the eggs rolls and in the fridge. Cooking more delicate things steadied his nerves, like gardening or just listening to the sounds of heartbeats steadied Kanade's.
But Kanade didn't look or feel up to gardening that day and a fluttering heart wasn't a soothing sound in the least. Still, the leaves outside sashayed slowly with the soft warm wind, so she put on some soft music and watched that. And when she grew more restless, she picked up the new paper that had been faxed to her the previous night and started making notes in the margin.
When the phone rang, it was a loud shrill sound that seemed to echo even more from expectancy. Kanade straightened in her chair and her husband, who'd just finished with the dishes, picked it up. Kanade watched his back, how it was slightly stiff: a sign of his own anxiety. And he'd always been more anxious, because failure was failure but success meant a whole other risk they would have to face. Kanade had resigned herself to that. She would be, on the most selfish of levels, happy, she thought, if she died with all her dreams fulfilled. And all humans had that selfishness, she was sure, otherwise it would be impossible to die without regrets.
Finally her husband hung up the phone and turned to her. He gave a thumbs up, and Kanade smiled in relief. That euphoria from yesterday did not return; she had exhausted herself on that front it seemed. But a bubble of contentment spread in her mind; that soft, relieving feeling like someone who had finally been granted their long awaited rest.
The nausea vanished by lunch time and they had a proper meal, with her husband trying to sneak more into her plate as he always did. It was a teasing gesture, mostly, but underneath it Kanade knew was worry for her health and wellbeing. But she really couldn't eat as much as he. She never could. It may be that which contributed to her petite built or it may be her heart or her genes.
After lunch, and for the next fortnight, it was a flurry of quiet excitement. Kanade quickly reviewed the papers that came her way but most of her attention was on the life blossoming inside of her. They'd brought lots of books on pregnancy and parenting in preparation, and time often found her pouring over them and thinking, perhaps, too far ahead.
And then there was the follow up with the heart specialist, who congratulated her but warned about the difficult journey ahead for her body and soul. She nodded and paid close attention to his recommendations; this pregnancy would mean nothing good if she couldn't support it to term. Diet restrictions, careful monitoring, prophylactic medication and supplements…some of things she'd started almost two years ago when the decision had been made, but they were reiterated and new things added on. She wrote it all down just in case, the worries of all the things that could go wrong circulating in her mind. But then there would be discussions of follow ups, later tests and whether she'd like to have the baby at home or in the city hospital…far ahead perhaps, but it gestured to the future she hoped for.
Her husband went back to work the day after the news with the date for the first ultrasound so he could apply for another day off. His boss looked quite amused at the lopsided little smile sitting on his lips, but he didn't explain. There was still a little fear, a little uncertainty…and maybe even a little hope as well. As much as he wanted a child with Kanade, his one argument against it was the inevitable strain pregnancy and labour would put on her body. He didn't want to lose his wife for a yet unborn child…but whenever they'd talked about it Kanade's face had become so bright at the prospect of that child her husband found his trepidations grow ever smaller. It was a powerful dream of hers, and doubt was an almost inconsequential thing in the face of it. He knew she thought about it, sometimes, and that was enough on the topic for the both of them. He'd made that choice almost two years ago: a choice he prayed and hoped he would never come to regret.
If things went as smoothly as they hoped, there would be no cause for regret. And he was careful as well, learning like his wife was learning and a little more: talking to mothers at work. They wondered aloud if his wife was pregnant now and soon the affirmation slipped out. And he came home that night with a grin as large as the one when his wife had told her suspicions to him and second only, perhaps, to the day she'd accepted his proposal for marriage. Kanade smiled at his excitement, but said nothing. The same jumble of euphoria and worry was within her as well.
And now that the first hurdle towards her final dream had been passed, it was a game of waiting and praying for fate's kind hands in the time and journey that would follow. A long road stretching to a horizon marked with angel wings – and the question, the worry, was really what sort of angel waited there. White sparkling wings symbolising a long, healthy and vibrant life…or the other extreme: tar-stained black symbolising a quick decay and death.