July 20, 2022 (Wednesday)
Upon returning from their honeymoon, Sam and Mercedes received their gifts from the wedding, as well as congratulatory gifts from friends from Mercedes' record label, and celebrities Sam had worked with for film voice-overs. Amongst the deliveries, Mercedes recognized the wrapped packaging and handles of a new comforter set, but Sam discreetly whisked it into his office when he saw that it was from Puck.
In a matter of days, both of them felt the glamour of being off the radar fade away as their coming weeks busied up. Sam was called and recommended for some new, upcoming voice over auditions. And Mercedes had been asked to perform at the MTV VMAs in October and she accepted. In addition, she had plans of writing and recording new single, but fell ill the week after they left St. Lucia. She had hoped it was something that would pass soon, but when it didn't, she grew concerned. While Sam was at a meeting in Burbank, she made a trip out a nearby pharmacy.
It was hard for Mercedes to get excited about the prospect of being pregnant again. If she was—as the test she took indicated—she would only be about a month along. Somehow, it should have felt easier to tell Sam about it. Yet here she was, pacing half the length of their bedroom for over an hour while holding the plastic stick in one hand, rehearsing some ways to tell him.
"I think our year's about to get a little more eventful…" after speaking it, she shook her head and tried again. "Maybe this is the year for us to be parents…" again, stupid. "I guess all that fun in St. Lucia paid o—" she couldn't even bring herself to finish that one aloud. Whatever she was going to say wasn't going to be a rehearsal anymore because she heard the front door open, followed by the familiar jingle of Sam's keys.
"Benz, where are you?" he called.
Biting on her thumb nail, she answered, "In here."
Little by little his steps neared their room. He spoke up again before reaching the door, "Hey guess what? I got the part to voice Cyclops for a new…X-Men cartoon re-make…what's the matter?" His eyes took in her crestfallen face first, and then they fixed on the plastic stick in her hand. He dropped his phone—eyes going wide with anxiety—took in an audible breath, held it for a few seconds and noisily let it out. "What's it say?"
Still nervously clenching her teeth on her thumb nail, she raised the pregnancy test to Sam so he could read it. The little square window showed two minty green double lines running visibly down the middle.
Sam's lips parted for a moment but he settled them again. Rather than staring at the positive sign anymore, he looked past it at Mercedes. "Are you okay?"
She nodded while lowering the test to her side, "I'm fine. I still feel a little sick, but at least I know why now. I'm fine. Really, I am."
He didn't buy it. "You should've waited until I got home to take it. I could've been here with you when you got the results."
"I know. But I really only suspected this after you left this morning. Remember last night how I said I was going to do some songwriting today? Well I woke up wanting to hurl—actually I did hurl but that's not the point. It came out of nowhere and then it went away. That's never happened before, and you know I lose my patience when I get worried. So I went out and bought the test—"
"You were worried?" interrupted Sam who was trying to keep up with her nattering.
Mercedes frantically went on though, "—and I wanted to wait for you and for a little while I did but you said you weren't going to be back for a while and I didn't know what 'a while' was going to look like so I went ahead and took it about an hour ago and a few minutes later the two lines showed up and the box said two lines means a positive and one line means negative so we know it says I'm pregnant and these things are usually accurate now but—"
Sam cupped a hand over her mouth. His eyes were wide with his own bout of worry; she sounded like she was spiraling into hysterics. Keeping his hand over her mouth, Sam calmly instructed her, "Take a deep breath through your nose."
Her own widened eyes closed. Sam felt air pass over his pinky finger as it entered her nostril. Slowly he lowered his hand from her lips and said, "Okay…let it out slowly through your mouth."
The air shakily left Mercedes' mouth. As his hand fell from her mouth, she opened her eyes to look directly in Sam's pair and whispered, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," he murmured back. Taking a deep breath of his own, Sam asked, "If we go to Dr. Bourdon for a confirmation soon, is that something you think you'd be ready for?"
After hesitating to answer, Mercedes wandered to the bathroom to throw the test away and wash her hands. She used the time to think over his question. Was she ready to find out that she was pregnant again? Was she ready to go through another series of sonograms and ultrasounds? Was she ready to go through another potential loss? The short answers to those were yes, no and never. Despite the grief she and Sam went through earlier that year, it didn't deter her from wanting to have children with him. But going in for another sonogram and ultrasound meant that she was opening herself up for déjà vu. And if she and Sam had to relive losing their baby again, she didn't know if she could recover as evenly as she did before.
By the time she emerged from the bathroom, Sam stood in the same spot she'd left him at, still patiently waiting her answer. Mercedes stood in front of him and took his hands for support.
"I'm sorry I stole your thunder about the voice over job. I really am proud of you and happy that you're going to get to entertain people regularly with your voice."
"It's okay," he replied, casting an assuring smile at her.
"But…We need to make the appointment. I need to know if I need to start taking better care of myself, or if the test was a false positive." The likelihood of that was of course, slim-to-none.
Sam nodded and gently squeezed her hand back. He opened his mouth to tell her something but Mercedes beat him to speaking.
"Sam?" Her eyes were glistening with anxiety as each orb struggled to fix on his green irises. "I know you're worried about me and I love you for always thinking of me, but what about you? Is this something that you're ready for?"
His lips settled and he gazed back at her as though his answer was somewhere in her eyes. Soon, he lifted one of his hands to gently cup her cheek. His thumb rubbed up and down her smooth skin in a soothing manner as he answered. "Well…it does seem like a lot's happening at once for us, doesn't it?"
Mercedes bit her lip, but didn't say anything back.
"I'm nervous, but I wouldn't change any of it," added Sam. "You and I know we want to be parents someday. If it's our time for that to happen, then great. Am I ready to be here for you? Always. Am I ready to be a dad? I hope so." His lips raised into a small but sincere smile. "We'll find out, won't we?"
Mercedes nodded but couldn't bring herself to smile back yet. "I don't want to go to the reunion next week if I'm pregnant. I don't want to chance that flight this early on, and I don't want risk saying something about this and it getting out to the media before we even tell our families."
"No problem. I can cancel our flight and we'll stay in—have a movie date or something."
The singer frowned, "You don't have to skip it because of me, Honey. You should go and see everybody. I know we didn't really get to talk to everyone that much at the wedding and some of your friends from the football and swim teams will be there."
"It's not a big deal," countered Sam with a shrug. "I keep in touch with most of the people I'd be interested in seeing anyway, and they're all going. If anything crazy happens, we can just get the story from them."
"One more thing," she whispered. "If we find out I'm pregnant…" she lowered her gaze to their hands and quietly told him, "I don't want to tell anybody, and I mean anybody. Not yet at least."
Sam's brows slanted a fraction, "What about our parents? And our siblings?"
She shook her head, "Not yet. I want to wait until I get past the first trimester."
His confusion deepened, "Why?"
"Because after—…last time happened, I read this book…and it said that if you're someone who's…gone through what we went through, and you get pregnant again, that you should wait until you've gotten through the first trimester. I guess the chances of the baby being carried to term are greater after the first trimester. I don't know if that's gonna be true or not—I know it isn't true for everyone. But I…I just don't wanna get everyone's hopes up again, so soon."
Sam's jaw was tight at first. He didn't like keeping secrets this important from his family; his parents especially. But as he listened to Mercedes, he grew to understand where she was coming from. And he didn't want to upset her. If she was pregnant, he knew that reducing stress would be important.
After lowering his hand from her cheek, he took both of her hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze. She already looked distressed—not once had she smiled since came home. Finding the answer that he wanted to give, Sam spoke softly, "You haven't forgotten that I'm bad at keeping secrets."
Mercedes chuckled dryly, "Yeah but I know you can do it when it really counts."
"Oh I don't know…you remember how I slipped and almost spilled the beans about my mom's 50th birthday party?"
And there it was—Mercedes smiled at the recollection, "Yeah I think your dad was gonna find a way to reach through the phone and ring your neck."
Sam returned the smile and then bent his head to kiss her forehead. "Mercedes, I won't say anything."
The pair scheduled an appointment with Mercedes' gynecologist the following afternoon. Having a greater fear of the sonogram than a needle, she opted for a blood test this time. Sure enough, the test came back positive and after a few inquiries from the doctor, it was determined that she was just shy over a month along. Handling the news delicately, Dr. Bourdon walked her and Sam through some pamphlets on caring for herself and her baby, and prescribed prenatal vitamins for her to take.
The realization of the pregnancy didn't really hit Mercedes until she and Sam were on their way back home. Her mind was split between feeling fearful and joyful about the news. With the vitamins and pamphlets in her lap she bowed her head, closed her eyes and said a quiet, hopeful prayer, begging God not to put her and Sam through another miscarriage.
From the corner of his eyes, Sam read her anxious determination from what she was doing; and although he couldn't fully join her, he removed one hand from the steering wheel and slipped it between her clasped hands. Right away, he felt Mercedes close her hands around his, and he wordlessly joined her in the same hopes.
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