Chapter Four
Serendipity. Not an accident. It was the word Amelia and Cooper preferred to use to explain their meeting, when he crash landed on her farm. And it was the word Amelia had often found herself saying these past nine months, a forceful self-remainder that the best things in her life were unexpected and unplanned. Sometimes she said it through the damp eyes or clenched teeth of disappointment and anger, like when she had to give up her riding lessons or worried about how she would finish college after all or when Cooper had left her to time travel alone.
Now, sitting in the hospital bed, holding her beautiful baby boy, she didn't have to force herself at all. Serendipity, not an accident. Cooper was right, she had no regrets. Their son was so perfect and already so loved. All of her fears, all of her memories of her mother's struggles with miscarriages and stillborns, had thankfully not come to fruition. Modern medicine had given her only joy at this moment.
She had cried, great ugly sobs, when her realization was confirmed by that horrid blue plus sign. Cooper's unreadable face only made it worse. She had ruined everything, she blubbered, they had a five-year plan and she ruined it, it was all her fault. Suddenly his strong arms were around her.
"Shhhhhh. You didn't ruin anything. Anything. If it's anybody's fault, it's mine. I begged." He'd pushed her back gently, crouching down to brush her bobbed hair out of her face and look directly into her eyes. "Listen. Remember what you said to me when we landed in Los Angeles? It will be be an adventure. With you. And that's all I ever want."
"Truly?"
"Truly." He took a deep breath, and she noticed that his face shifted into one of absolute joy. "Amelia, I really want this baby. Your baby. Our baby. It's all I can think about ever since you told me."
It had been enough, at that moment, and she had smiled weakly as he hugged her tightly there in the bathroom. But she couldn't put it out of her mind, all the memories of her mother, of the blood, of the screaming in pain, of the crying in despair, all those little graves on the hill behind the cabin. She tired to hide her tears in the middle of the night, but Cooper's arm found its way around her.
"Amelia?" he asked softly.
"There's something I've never told you. I'm worried - I don't think the baby will live," she managed to say.
She heard him take a deep breath behind her, although she couldn't be sure what the emotion behind it was. "Do you want to tell me about it now?"
Nodding, she allowed him to turn on the bedside lamp and sit up, holding her. In halting words, unsure of what she was even saying, she told Cooper about all the siblings she'd lost over the years. He didn't interrupt, and when it was over her only asked, "Do you have any idea what was wrong?"
She shook her head, surprised that he wasn't more surprised. "We'll figure this out together, Amelia, I promise. We have the powers of science and modern medicine on our side." And, yet another time, he knew exactly what would sooth her when he said, "Tell me a story."
The days felt hazy to Amelia. Christmas was coming, and all the decorations were hung. Last year, she had been amazed and delighted by the sheer quantity of them, laughing when Cooper turned on the twinkling lights. Last year everything had been perfect. This year she alternated between forgetting there was anything abnormal and suddenly remembering that there was a specter of tragedy lurking over them, something ticking away inside her. Cooper had put his arm around her one day and suggested that perhaps she should tell Penelope and Bernice after all, that maybe they could offer her support. Shaking her head, Amelia refused, saying again that she didn't want anyone to know yet. And how would those two beautiful blonde woman be able to help her, anyway?
One morning, coming out of the bathroom for the first time feeling a little nauseous, she was surprised that Cooper did not have breakfast ready yet. Did she look that bad? Did he know she was feeling ill and that the idea of food only made her stomach turn?
"Amelia, I have something to tell you. I'm taking you now to get some blood work done and we have an appointment with your gynecologist at four. I know their regular recommendation is to see you at about ten weeks, but I called and explained your concerns. If you're angry at me because you feel I've overstepped my bounds, I accept that; but I feel we need answers as soon as we can get them. I don't like seeing you this way. I know this wasn't planned, so maybe you're not excited yet, but I want to do everything I can to help you get there."
She wasn't angry. Instead, she felt a sense of relief. She nodded. After several tubes of blood were drawn, the day seemed to crawl by, despite Cooper's attempts at cheering her up, despite taking her Christmas shopping. Finally, she sat in her doctor's office, wearing a little paper gown and covered with a paper sheet. Cooper was firmly studying his shoes, having mumbled, "Why are there all these posters?"
There was a knock on the door and Dr. Price entered and smiled. "Hello, Amelia. First of all, let me congratulate you."
"Thank you," Cooper said quickly, and Amelia was grateful he'd spoken first as she wasn't really sure what to say. "I'm Dr. Cooper Shelton."
Brief introductory pleasantries were exchanged between them before Dr. Price sat down on her exam stool and looked back at Amelia. "I understand you have some concerns about your pregnancy, that you're fearful you won't be able to carry the child to term. I want to reassure you that when I did your exam last year, everything was perfectly healthy. I'll examine you again to be certain. That is not a guarantee, of course, but it's a good start along with the fact that you're young. I expect the blood work back at any moment. Before we do all that, why don't you tell me exactly what you're concerned about?"
Glancing at Cooper, Amelia started to explain all that she knew about her mother's struggles with pregnancy and childbirth. Two sentences in Cooper had come to stand next to her, holding her hand.
"I'm sorry to interrupt -" Dr. Price said, putting her hand up "- am I to understand your mother had no prenatal care?"
"It's a cult," Cooper said quickly. "One of those religions that don't believe in doctors or modern innovations like electricity. In Kansas."
"Oh. Kansas." Dr. Price nodded, as people always did when Kansas was used as the reason. Then she opened her laptop to study something. "I do see, now, that you had all your vaccinations in the past year. Am I to assume you had no medical care yourself as a child?"
"Only the very basics," Amelia answered, blushing and feeling ashamed that this lie was necessary to explain the situation, even though she found it offensive to her parents. It made them sound narrow-minded and uncaring, when, in reality, they would have done anything that was possible for her.
"So there were only two living children, you and your younger brother?"
"I had an older sister. I was a baby when she died from the measles. I think she was one," Amelia explained.
"I didn't know that," she heard Cooper murmur next to her.
"And there were, you think, two more infants after your brother and then none? How old was your mother then, do you know? Perhaps she was just past child-bearing years."
Cooper shifted restlessly next to her, but Amelia answered. "Probably 30 or 32."
"Interesting." Dr. Price did not do well at hiding her surprise. But before she could ask another question, there was a knock on the door and a staff member stuck her head in to say a few words. "Your blood work is back," Dr. Price announced.
Her heart thumping in her chest, Amelia waited for her doctor to pull it up on the computer and she watched her eyes reading. It only took a few seconds, really, but time seemed to have come to a complete stand still. Cooper gave her hand a little squeeze and she was too frightened to return the favor. She didn't know which frightened her most: the impending horror of losing a baby or letting Cooper down. In the past few weeks, he had been so attentive and concerned, and, even though she thought he was trying to mitigate the outward signs for her sake, he was obviously so thrilled by the hope of a child.
"Ah, I see," Dr. Price finally said and Amelia's heart completely stopped beating. So she had been right all along, there really was something wrong with her. Then Dr. Price looked up and gave her a small smile, and Amelia wrinkled her brow.
"It is good news?" Cooper blurted out.
"Normally, I would say it's annoying news, but given your fears I think that, yes, this is good news."
"What?" Amelia whispered, her throat parched.
"It's actually what I suspected. You're Rh-negative, Amelia. That's it. It's very easily treated with proper medical care," Dr. Price leaned forward and rested her hand on Amelia's knee. "It's going to okay. This won't prevent you from having a healthy baby."
"I don't understand," Amelia said, turning to look at Cooper. He was smiling.
"Rh factor is found on the red blood cells of most people, but not all," the doctor explained. "It doesn't harm you not to have it, which it why you've always been healthy. It's only a concern when your blood mixes with the blood of a person who does have the Rh factor, such as if you needed a blood transfusion or, in this case, pregnancy and childbirth. Since you're Rh negative, we will just assume the baby is Rh positive and treat you with injections to prevent your body from harming the baby."
"We'll look it up together we get home," Cooper said softly. "This is good, Amelia, it's easily managed."
"But . . . my mother . . . "
"I can only conjuncture, but my guess is your mother is Rh negative also and your father is Rh positive. In that situation, there are usually no complications in the first pregnancy -" Dr. Price put her hand up "- but we'll still treat you anyway - which is why your older sister was born healthy. Although there are usually no outward signs of a problem in the first pregnancy, that pregnancy is what causes the body to start producing the antibodies that are harmful to future Rh positive fetuses. But then you were Rh negative, so your mother's blood was compatible with yours and you were healthy as well. I'd assume your brother is Rh negative, too. However, as Rh factor is a dominant genetic trait, it seems that all your other . . . siblings were Rh positive and that is what led to the miscarriages and stillbirths. We call that hemolytic erythroblastosis fetalis." She frowned. "Unfortunately, it sounds like the condition was especially vicious for your mother, and each new pregnancy only makes it worse, we know that. Today, with detection during a prenatal ultrasound and proper medical care, even a fetus with this condition can be born and survive. But we don't even have to worry about that; we've got your blood work in plenty of time to prevent complications."
"You mean the baby will be healthy?" Amelia asked.
"We have every reason to think so." Dr. Price smiled and squeezed her knee again. "I recommend the full genetic work-up, of course, when we get to that stage, but although this sounds very frightening and is no doubt a speed bump, it's just that, Amelia, a small speed bump. We'll give you an injection at 28 weeks - and I recommend the optional booster at 34 weeks given your family history - and one more immediately after birth to prevent your body from forming antibodies against either this baby or any future children. We'll do the same if you choose to have any more children in the future."
"That's it?"
"That's it."
Almost unable to believe that it could all be so simple, that this magical place called the future could detect and solve a problem that had caused an almost endless string of heartbreaks in the past, Amelia felt her face crumble. For herself, for her unborn child, for Cooper, but especially for her mother.
"Don't cry, it's good news," Cooper said softly, pulling her close to him.
Weeping into his neck, Amelia finally said aloud what she had been to frightened to utter all along, "I'm going to have a baby."
And she did. A perfect, healthy ten-fingered-and-ten-toed miracle. He was bald and red-faced and squishy looking with baby acne and a very loud cry, but he was theirs. She thought, holding him on the morning of only his second day, that this was yet another thing that Cooper had given her. Not just the obvious contribution, but the moment he put his hand out and helped her into his time machine he was giving her this miracle. If John hadn't died leaving her with the silver ring . . . if Cooper hadn't crash landed on her farm on the exact day he did . . . if she hadn't gone over that hill one more time that sad morning she thought he was already gone . . . if he hadn't asked her to come with him . . . if her birth control hadn't failed . . . if the speakeasy hadn't been raided . . . if she hadn't needed Cooper just as much as he needed her at that moment in the hotel room. . . It was serendipity that brought her Cooper, and it was serendipity that he would bring her to where she needed to be to experience the joys of motherhood, even that motherhood another result of unplanned serendipity.
There was a soft knock at the door and Amelia looked up to see Cooper's head peering around the corner. She broke into a smile. "You're back!"
"Just now." He crossed quickly to her side to give her a kiss on the cheek. "I missed you." He bent down further. "And you, my little physicist." He reached into his jacket pocket and set an envelope on the bed beside her. "Here. Just one."
Chuckling, Amelia lifted their son up to pass him off to his father. "We missed you, too. You didn't have to knock. And just one?"
Cooper backed up a step to relax in the rocking chair beside her. "I thought you might be sleeping. And it wasn't so long ago I was there."
"I can never sleep when you travel without me," she replied. "We ate and we cuddled instead. What does it say?"
"I didn't read it. Breastfeeding is going well?" He wasn't even looking at her, lost in the gaze of his son, who'd actually opened his eyes when Cooper took him.
"I think we're getting the hang of it. And you know you can read them." Amelia's throat closed a bit. "If you didn't read it, did you . . . "
"Yes, of course." Cooper glanced up. "I promised I'd send the telegram, so I did. 'Amelia safely delivered of a healthy son yesterday. Stop. Amelia and baby doing well. Stop. Best regards. Stop.'"
"Thank you." Amelia looked over at them, father and son, together in the chair and smiled. Now, watching them, Amelia's heart had never been more full. Serendipity. Then she saw Cooper yawn deeply. "You look exhausted."
"I'm a new father. I'm supposed to look exhausted."
"Maybe, but - wait! how long were you gone?"
"I have not been present in this hospital for two hours," Cooper said, touching his son's little nose as the boy closed his eyes again.
"That is not what I asked."
A sigh. "Fine. Ten hours."
"Ten hours! And I don't suppose you slept! We've talked about this, Cooper. Chronolag has the potential to be harmful. Not to mention I need you at your full strength right now." The letter she still had not read hit the sheet with crumple.
"I know, I know. Just this once. Wells wasn't home when I first got there, I had to kill time in a pub where I ran into Mr. Johnson and then you know how he can carry on - he sends his felicitations by the way - and then the telegraph office and finally back to see Wells. But I wanted to come back as soon as I could. I missed you." Cooper looked up her, imploringly.
"You didn't tell him anything, did you?" Amelia asked, her voice softening.
"No. You know he's never written a book based on 21st-century birthing practices." Cooper leaned his head back against the chair and started rocking.
"Maybe we should look it up on Wikipedia to be safe."
Cooper smiled and closed his eyes. Amelia smiled at them once more, and opened her letter to her mother's handwriting.
July 1888, Kansas
Dear Amelia and Cooper-
It is full summer now, which I know means you are busy sewing for your future blessing. I remember waiting for your arrival. I will say an extra prayer for you every morning in this month. After the horrible blizzard this past winter, I welcome the heat -
Cooper's phone dinged, which startled him. Poor Cooper, he'd just fallen asleep. His jerk made the baby wake and fuss, too.
"Here, I'll take him," Amelia said. Taking her son, she shushed him as Cooper took out his phone.
"It's Leo. They're on their way up."
"Your first visitors!" Amelia said in a sing-song voice to her baby, smilingly down at him.
A couple of minutes later, there was a knock at the door and she and Cooper yelled in unison for their friends to enter.
"Congratulations!" Leo said, sitting a ballon bouquet on the bedside table. He put his hand out, and he and Cooper shook hands. Amelia raised her eyebrows and then smiled at how manly they were acting, as though either one of them had done any work to bring a baby into the world.
"Hey, sweetie!" Penelope bent over her, smelling like that floral perfume she always wore. "Ohhh, he's beautiful!" she cooed. "Just perfect."
"Of course he is," Cooper said, sitting down in the rocking chair again.
"Was it awful?" Penelope asked.
Amelia shrugged. "It wasn't pleasant. But it was much better than I'd imagined. Epidurals are a miracle. You really do have everything here, you don't know how lucky you are."
"Aren't you glad I insisted we didn't have him at home? Imagine the mess!" Cooper shuddered with disgust.
"Would you like to hold him?" Amelia asked Penelope, ignoring him. She had only half-heartedly suggested that their child ought to be born at home, where he would grow up and be loved, like she was. Before she could even add, though, that it was best, given the medical situation, that they have him in the hospital, Cooper had adamantly interrupted her to say that there would be no amniotic fluids in their bed. Yes, he'd been correct about that, too.
Penelope nodded, sat on the edge of the bed, and took the warm bundle from her. "Hey, little guy! We're going to have so much fun together! Did Mommy and Daddy decide on a name for you yet?"
"We did. Errol Edward Shelton," Amelia said proudly. "We took your advice; Sterling Cooper was already taken."
"Errol? You don't hear that anymore," Leo said.
"It was becoming popular in the 1920s," Amelia explained. "And Edward is my father's name."
"I think it's cute," Penelope said, kissing little Errol's forehead and handing him back to Amelia. "I liked Sterling, too, but I think you'll be pleased you didn't name him after the firm in Mad Men. That's a old name, too, isn't it? Sterling?"
"Yes," Cooper said. "We were quite inspired by our last trip together to the Roaring Twenties, it seems."
Amelia took a deep breath of her son, then let him wrap his hand around her finger. Yes, they were quite inspired, indeed.
"I just hope you weren't inspired while you were in the 1920s, if you know what I mean," Leo said.
"Why not?" Amelia looked up sharply.
"Because, you know, it could be like Doctor Who. Amy is pregnant in the TARDIS and River Song is born as a Time Lord. Sort of." Leo chuckled. "Errol could be the next Doctor!"
"Don't be ridiculous," Cooper snorted. Amelia looked at him and he added, "That's all just science fiction, you know. Emphasis on fiction."
"Well, we all thought time travel was, too, until it happened to you," Penelope said.
Amelia and Cooper's eyes met over the top their son's head.
THE END
Where to go from here? If you have a suggestion for a period in time or especially some idea for a shenanigan that our favorite time traveling couple can into, please send me a message and I'll give it serious consideration.
Thank you for your reviews! Coopmelia forever!
