This isn't my favorite chapter out of the bunch, but if you make it through, I promise it gets better!
Disclaimer: Not Stephenie Meyer & I don't own Twilight.
December, 15th, 2008 - week 8
The day of my first doctor's appointment started private, but soon began to resemble a public circus.
Sam shook me gently awake, bribing me with the smell of freshly brewed coffee to pull me out of bed at ten o'clock. My stomach churned, but stayed slight enough that I was never sick. I dressed nicely, knowing that we would be making a side trip to Sam's mother's house on the way home to break the good news to her. The whole experience, from the car ride there, to the endless questions from my obstetrician, seemed surreal. Sam and I were nowhere near ready for a baby, and part of me was still insisting that it was all some big misunderstanding. I half-expected the doctor to tell me I was crazy and send me home.
This, however, was not the case. I was pregnant. We were pregnant. Sam and I. Dr. Echler, my obstetrician, confirmed that I was a little less than two months pregnant and my due date was August 4th. Thirty-two weeks from now, I - we - would have a baby.
The first visit was overwhelming, to say the very least, but it was a joyful experience. The doctor hadn't found any problems, though she warned me to refrain from consuming too much junk food when Sam told her I had a sweet tooth. Still, she asked a ton of questions about our families medical history, my sexual history, and my immunizations. She did blood work to check for HIV and other STD's, as well as regular things like anemia and Rh status. We asked about having an ultrasound, but she assured us that we would get to see the baby at the next visit.
"Congratulations to both of you, and if you have any questions, just call." Dr. Echler shook Sam's hand, wrapped me in a hug and waved us out the door. When we finally made it to the parking lot - dazed and smiling widely - Sam and I came to a rather abrupt stop. My mother was leaning against her car on the other side of the parking lot, a thick bag of books in her hand.
"How'd it go?" she called, still halfway across the parking lot.
I looked up at Sam and clutched his arm for moral support. "My mother is here? All the way from the Makah rez?"
His grin fell from his face, so at least I knew that he wasn't in on it. Sam knew better than to surprise me like this, when I was so overtired and stressed as I already was.
I faced my mother and reached out my hand to take hers as she made her way across the lot. She was practically bouncing up and down with anticipation.
"Is everything alright?" she shrieked excitedly, not lowering her voice even though she was much closer than last time.
"Everything is perfect," Sam assured her, patting my hand that was wrapped around his arm. "She's due the fourth of August."
My mother's clapped a hand over her mouth. "That is so wonderful." She touched my stomach with just the tips of her fingers. I would have to get used to that. I had a feeling it was going to happen often in the next seven months. "So wonderful."
"Thanks." I plastered a grin on my face. "But we should go, Mom," I said, imploring her with my eyes not to fuss about this. "We were just going to see Sam's mom. You can meet us back at the house if you want, for lunch."
"Oh, I'll go with you!" She fell into step behind Sam and next to me, tagging along a on trip on which she hadn't been invited. "It's been so long since Hannah and I had a good talk."
And, like the good daughter I am, I couldn't find the guts to tell her to go home, because this was going to be an Uley family thing. Instead, I smiled and said, "Sure, Mom. That sounds great."
She got back in her car and followed us out of the office and down the street.
Once we were alone again, Sam's toothy grin revealed itself. He picked up my hand and held it in his warm one. He started to say something, but then closed his mouth.
Worried that it might have been something important I began, "Sam-" but then trailed off as I couldn't think of anything to say. There was almost too much to say, too many emotions, and if we started, they would all come rushing out, choking us on years of suppressed insecurities. I was excited, grateful, nervous and terrified all in the same moment. How was I supposed to live like this? Unsure of Sam's feelings, as well as my own.
He turned at the sound of my voice calling his name, and his deep eyes fixed themselves seriously on mine. He dropped my hand, and put his on my womb instead. He opened his mouth again, but then we arrived at his mother's home, and stopped again. We'd have to save this talk for later.
I sighed as I got out of the car. Hannah was sitting outside, on her porch, wrapped in a thick parka and smoking a cigarette. She saw us and quickly put it out under her heel. She was still trying to hide her relapse from Sam and me.
"Hello! Hello!" She waved, as Sam ran over, unnecessarily, to help me from the car. "Emily, darling, and Sam! How are you?"
"We're great, Hannah, thanks." I leaned in to kiss her cheek, kicking the butt of the cigarette deeper into the snow bank with the toe of my boot.
"We have some news for you, Mom." Sam dropped my hand to envelope his mother in a hug. He was nearly two feet taller than she was; her head rested well below his collarbone.
"Only good, I hope." She released Sam and pulled me into her arms, kissing the top of my head. I wondered if she would have done the same if she knew that I was carrying her son's child out of wedlock. I hoped so, but a nagging corner of my mind reminded me that the rez still functioned on traditions, and that it applied to more than just stories.
My mother's old truck pulled up in the driveway behind us, and she hopped out, still bouncing. She quickly put a finger over her lips, but was grinning from ear to ear as she walked toward the porch.
"Jennifer! What a surprise!" Hannah exclaimed, as they embraced. She opened her door and ushered us inside. "Come on inside! It's cold out here." Hannah turned toward my mom as we made our way to the door, "What is all of this about?"
Mom smirked and shook her head. "Sorry, Hannah, I'm here to provide moral support, not bring the news."
I sighed, relieved that my mom could keep a secret for a few minutes, and Sam put a hot hand on my back, guiding me through the door.
"Are you sure that this is good news?" Hannah laughed, eying Sam's protective hand on my back. I detected a bit of cynicism in her voice. My stomach began to flutter, as I got more nervous.
"Oh, it is," my mother promised.
I cringed. What if Hannah hated me for this? What if she thought that keeping the baby was a stupid idea? I'm was sure that she would think we were too young to take on this kind of responsibility.
I tugged on Sam's arm, whispering into his ear when he leaned down. "Can we talk, for a second? Before we tell her?"
His eyebrows furrowed. "Sure, Em." He led me into the kitchen, while our moms continued by the kitchen and into the living room, where they were sure to dive into the town gossip. "We'll be right there!" he called, "I'm just going to get Emily some water."
I was starting to tremble nervously as Sam put his arms around me.
"What's wrong, honey?"
I could feel my body quaking against his - for once I was the one shaking.
"We can't tell her this right now," I pleaded, trying desperately to stay in control of my dialogue while my mind spiraled into places of rejection and fear.
"What do you mean?"
"What if she hates me for this? What if she thinks we were being stupid, and that we can't take care of this baby? What if she refuses to see us - you - anymore?"
Sam pulled me closer against his chest, chuckling assuredly at my frantic questioning. "She won't think any of those things, Emily. She loves you, just as much as she loves me." In the safe cradle of his arms, my lungs found the strength to fill completely, and a small layer of calm floated over my senses.
I shook my head, not entirely convinced, but the dazed calm left my contradiction weak. "What if she does disagree?"
"I want this baby, Emily." He kissed my head, the warmth leaving a searing spot on top of my hair. "I love this baby. I'll stand up for this baby." He was so confident, so strong. I felt meager by comparison.
I let out a single, gasping sob. "She would be right, Sam. I'm not ready for this. I'm too young, I have no idea what it means to take care of somebody else, how to change a diaper or feed a baby! I'll kill the poor kid before I even know what's happening!"
He rubbed my back, soothingly. "Emily, you have eight months to get ready for those things, and my mom can help." He smiled down at me, still outrageously confident. "She is not going to attack you. She is going to be excited to have a grandchild."
I was jealous of his calm demeanor. "You have to tell her. I can't." I leaned back against the support of his arms.
"I'll tell her," Sam compromised, but he accompanied it with a stern condition. "We need to talk about this. But not right now," he amended, seeing a look of apprehension cross my face, "not in my mother's kitchen."
I grimaced, but agreed, "I know."
"We have to go tell my mother now." His voice and eyes softened, but his statement offered no leeway.
My stomach churned. I didn't doubt the decision I had made, and I wasn't going to let anyone talk me out of it, but I didn't have the strength that Sam did. I had very little self-confidence, I was already the disfigured girl; did I have to be the girl who gets pregnant just to keep her man now as well? His mother was going to think I seduced him or something, twisted his beliefs to get what I wanted. What really terrified me was that maybe, when everything in our relationship wasn't easy and perfect, Sam would recognize that the people were right. He would leave me, and all I would have of him would be the tiny baby in my arms. I couldn't raise a child on my own!
I kept my mouth shut, forcing myself to calm down for a few minutes and be sociable. We could have time to talk later, although I wasn't sure how much good it was going to do. Right now, Sam wanted to tell his mother the news, and he deserved to have me there. I forced a small smile onto my face. Sam kept his arm around my waist, and kissed my cheek.
"Let's go," Sam prodded. With the hand that wasn't around my waist, he gripped my hand. "It'll be fine."
I nodded, resisting the urge to turn and run away.
Hannah and my mother were chatting away on the couch when Sam and I walked in. There was only the chair left, so Sam and I had a silent, tense exchange in which he prompted me to sit down, and I proceeded to stand awkwardly by the arm of the chair until he rolled his eyes and fell into the plush cushion. I stepped back and focused on my feet, still standing next to the chair.
"So, what's going on?" Hannah turned to face us, the lines in her forehead more prominent. She always knew when Sam was hiding something.
Sam looked at me, and I glared right back at him. He cleared his throat. "Well, Mom, we got some good news the other day."
Hearing for a third time that the news was good, Hannah relaxed and the lines on her forehead dissipated. "Well, what is it?" She looked between the two of us, eagerly. A hint of a smile played at the corners of her mouth.
Sam unleashed the smile from the doctor's office and car. He radiated exuberance and joy. "Emily is pregnant."
Hannah's eyes flew directly to my face, which was burning with a blush, and the hint of a smile grew larger. "Really?"
I licked my dry lips before I spoke, relieved at her first reaction. "I just found out three days ago. We went to the doctor this morning."
"When are you due?" She was beginning to bounce, just like my mother. The muscles in my shoulders relaxed, releasing the tension in my neck.
Sam answered for me, "The fourth of August."
I could see her counting quickly in her head. "August! So you're already two months along! Oh, Emily! That's great, I'm so happy for you." Hannah jumped off the seat, offering her congratulations while my mother beamed proudly in the corner.
I was shocked at her reaction. My whole body froze, hardly responding as Hannah pulled me into a tight hug. She was squealing babbled words of happiness and plans for the future, but I was looking over her shoulder at Sam, who was grinning widely at the scene, and my head was off in another world. I guessed this meant that she wasn't angry, but the prospect of being welcomed was still having trouble getting through my head. Other people would certainly not respond this way.
"I know that your mother lives two hours away, so if you ever need help with anything, call me." Hannah's words in my ear finally pulled me from my contemplative stupor. I beamed at her and wrapped my arms around her back, returning the hug.
Sam poked my back, discreetly, trying to say I told you so.
"Thank you, that is so sweet." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Everything was okay, for now. I had panicked for nothing.
Hannah insisted that we eat with her, and ordered that I stay on the couch with Sam while she and Mom made lunch. Sam leaned against the arm of the couch, kicking his feet up on the cushions and making a space for me in between his legs. I relaxed against his chest, the hazy realization from a few moments ago still clouding my thought processes, and he ran his fingers through my hair.
He placed his lips next to my ear. "You looked stunned, darling." He said it with a smile, but there was biting truth to his statement. I was stunned; stunned that Hannah had accepted us so quickly. I didn't know what to make of it. Maybe I was over-thinking this. When I didn't say anything in reply, Sam prodded further, "What's wrong?"
The tears immediately threatened to fall. I hated those. I never cried before I got pregnant, and now it seemed I was crying every other second. Damn these hormones. "People are going to say things, Sam." My voice was scratchy and rough from the tears; it wavered with the complexity with the feelings and the responsibility of expressing them.
"Does it matter to you, what they say?" Sam kissed my cheek, right next to my scars. He was being so loving, so gentle, but I wanted him to just listen to me. I couldn't think when he kissed me.
I turned around, using the back of the couch as leverage, and looked Sam in the eye. "I'm not strong enough to listen to it." I wished it was a lie, I wished I was stronger, like Sam, but I wasn't. I would have to hide in my room for the rest of my pregnancy.
"Emily, you are - " Sam started, but I cut him off desperately.
"They already call me a monster, Sam. I don't think I can handle being a slut, too." I covered my face with my hands, turning away from him.
Sam stared at me, speechless.
"I don't have the self-esteem that you do. I can't hold my head up when I'm being insulted." I wrung my hands together, looking down. Unspoken was the thought that I couldn't even couldn't even imagine what I would do if he believed what they would say.
He was the poster-boy for the council! People would be furious with him for "setting a bad example" for the younger children. He would get a lot of angry parents and elders, who would tell him that he had made a terrible mistake.
"Are you..." his voice came out as a choked whisper, "are you ashamed of us?" His voice was thick and trembling. Was he crying? Was Sam crying?
I hated that he even thought that way. "No, Sam, I don't think what we did was wrong, that this baby is wrong. I want your baby." I turned around, leaning in to brush my lips against his cheeks, where he was blinking furiously to keep the tears from falling.
"I just..." I sighed, not knowing how to express what I felt. There wasn't a name for it. "I want approval. Trival, I know, but it pertains to the baby as well. I don't want people to always talk about our child as illegitimate or unwanted. I want this baby to be a source of excitement and not gossip."
He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Then...what can I do to make it better? I can't stop people from talking, Em."
"But you can! We can!" I almost shouted, and then hurried to shut my mouth. I hadn't meant to voice this particular solution.
"And how can I do that?" He put his hand up to my face, imploring me gently with his eyes. He knew he was going to have to coax it out of me now.
I shook my head. He wouldn't like this idea. If we hadn't talked about it yet, then he couldn't be planning to follow through anytime soon. And it didn't matter, really. I supposed that as long as he loved me, I could get through. His love would always be enough. Still, the fact that he had never elaborated on his proposal made me think that he didn't favor the commitment attached to marriage. Maybe he thought imprinting was enough.
"Emily, you need to tell me." Sam held my face in both of his hands.
"It's stupid." I averted my eyes, looking at the corner of the room, where a plastic tree lived in its bed of twisted fake grass. I didn't want to see his gaze.
"Don't hide things from me." He sounded hurt, and it killed my resolve.
He was making me feel guilty, mostly because he wasn't trying to. He was always so genuine; it broke my heart to disappoint him. I mumbled my secret idea, "Marry me."
Sam reached a finger under my chin to pull my gaze up to match his. "What was that?"
I squared my shoulders, prepared to say it loud and clear, but at the last second I dropped my head and the words came out as a murmur again, "Marry me."
He didn't make me say it again. Picking up my hand, Sam pointed out my ring. "I already promised I would. We're already engaged, Emily."
I never used to snap at people, let alone at Sam, but I lost it. Maybe it was those damn hormones again, or the fact that I knew the next eight months were not going to be as easy as Sam thought. I wailed, "We've been engaged for almost three years, Sam! Are you ever going to really marry me, or are you just going to let me have an illegitimate child?"
"Is that all you want? You want us to get married?" Sam pulled my hands away from my face, and I saw that both of our mothers had heard my little outburst and had stuck their heads out of the kitchen to watch. "Is this really all about commitment, Emily, because I think you know that I'm already committed. Is there something else?"
There was nothing else. If he married me, if we announced a date for the wedding - especially if we told everyone we had decided on a date before I was pregnant - they could hardly say the things they might if we were only still engaged. Sam would still have the respect of the council and the elders, and my baby would be welcomed into the tribe. I would have the assurance that he was mine, once and for all.
"What do you mean, something else? If you've changed your mind and you don't want to marry me, then just tell me Sam!" I touched my scars without thinking about it, "If you'd rather not commit to me in a normal, human way, don't keep stringing me along." I cringed, praying that I hadn't gone too far.
"What the hell are you talking about Emily?" Sam ran a hand through his hair, annoyed. "Of course I want to marry you. I proposed, didn't I?"
"Well, yes...but that was the end of that discussion and three years later we haven't done anything!" I countered defensively.
"So...you thought I had changed my mind?" Sam sighed, and then ran a hand over his buzzed hair.
It wasn't that I thought he had changed his mind, exactly. It was that I wasn't sure he had really intended to have a wedding when he proposed all those years ago. He already considered himself bound to me, and an engagement was a title to tell people, an indicator to the rest of the world that we were together. Maybe he didn't think that a ceremony was necessary. I knew that he loved me, but he didn't wear my ring, and it bothered me.
He stared at me for a while, and then pulled me into a deep kiss. His lips moved against me, his tongue caressing mine. I hoped our mothers weren't still watching. He broke the kiss and we leaned against each other, panting. I was still waiting for his answer, though the kiss had been a good indicator. "I love you. We can get married whenever you want."
My face lit up, despite the fact that I was still slightly angry. "Really? You mean it? Whenever I want?"
He laughed, "Yes, whenever you want."
I pictured the wedding I had always dreamed of - a small, white chapel in June. The colors would be bright, and the sun would be high in the sky. I wanted an afternoon wedding. Then, something occurred to me and I frowned.
"What is it now?" Sam prodded, worried that he had started off a new rant.
"I'll be fat by June!" I complained, "I'll be huge!"
"You won't be fat, darling, you'll be round with my baby. And I'll love it," Sam encouraged.
Hannah couldn't help but to add, "I can make a beautiful maternity gown!"
My mother jumped in also, "But we had better get started with reserving a venue if we only have seven months. "
Sam kissed me again, and whispered in my ear, "We're getting married."
I sighed in relief at the words. He wasn't afraid of commitment, our baby wouldn't be labeled as unwanted, or a mistake, Sam could continue his work in the tribe; my prayers had been answered. There were obvious issues that hadn't been resolved yet, but we were making progress. "We're getting married." I beamed, echoing him in a whisper.
&&&
After lunch, Hannah and my mother invited themselves over to our little house, in order to help me start planning the wedding. Sam and I had barely even made it to the car when Leah drove by. I smiled and waved, and she stopped the car and hopped out.
"Hey guys!" she called cheerfully. Our relationship wasn't as close as it used to be, but it was in repair and we were back on good terms. She understood the situation better after she had turned as well, and there was less tension now that she was in Jake's pack and not constantly reading Sam's thoughts.
I pulled away from Sam to give Leah a giant hug. "Our wedding is going to be in June, will you still be my bridesmaid?"
"Of course! I'd love to." She kissed my cheek, and then asked, "Why June?"
I glanced at Sam, suddenly nervous again. I had hoped that the news wouldn't ruin any progress Leah and I had made within the last few months. Having her mad at me was something I couldn't bear.
"Em is pregnant," he told her quickly.
Leah's face twisted excruciatingly for a brief moment, but she quickly ran a hand through her hair and forced a smile. I knew that this was hard for her, not only because of the past she shared with Sam, but also because of her infertility. I appreciated her efforts to be happy for me. "That is fantastic, Emily. Congratulations."
Hannah saw Leah and called out, "Are you coming to help us plan the wedding, dear?"
Leah glanced at me and I could see the pain that lingered there. I understood, and whispered, "You don't have to."
She smiled softly, and then, shaking her head, called back, "Sorry, Mrs. Uley, but I have lots to do at home." I hugged her again, accepting another whispered congratulations, and waved her on her way. I wasn't upset, in fact, the exchange turned out better than I thought it would.
I climbed in the passenger's seat of the car, and Sam started out of the driveway. Naturally, we didn't make it very far. Mrs. Atera stopped us to ask why I was at the doctor's this morning, and Sam told her. She wanted to catch up with my mother, so she joined the caravan to our house as well. Following Mrs. Atera was Ms. Call, as well as Jared, Kim and Embry.
Ms. Call was a former wedding planner, and offered to make a list of things I would need to do, as well as use some of her connections to get us discounts.
Embry called Paul to tell him where they all were, Paul called Quil, who then called Jake, and soon both of the packs were in my backyard, throwing around a football while their mothers and imprints helped me call churches and banquet halls.
All day long it was a mix of wedding plans, none of which got very far. By the end of it, I had a list of venues to explore before choosing one, and the only church on the rez was booked for May 22nd.
I rubbed my eyes sleepily as Sam ushered the rest of the guests out the door. I had no idea how I was going to make it until August.