A/N: Hi guys, thanks for sticking with this! I hate that no one (including myself) is receiving emails, and I'm really hoping FF can get it fixed soon. In the meantime, thanks for trying to keep up with it via checking the updates! Y'all are awesome.
Hope you enjoy!
TW: discussion surrounding abortion
November 25, 2014
"I'll leave the two of you and we'll run some more scans just to be extra sure, but Mrs. McCord," the doctor shifts and moves the clipboard from his view for the final time, "Everything shows so far that you are, indeed, pregnant." The doctor clears his throat and starts to turn out of the room, but then turns back, "I know it must be a lot, but congratulations."
Something in the tone of his voice made Elizabeth's hands ball into fists. Maybe in any other circumstance it wouldn't have, and he was probably being genuine, really. But this time, her sheets were being gripped so tightly between her fingers on each side of her legs that she realized soon after that her arms were shaking.
When the doctor leaves the room, she just stares at the door, thinking about what he'd just told her. This has to be a nightmare, right?
"Babe?" She hears a voice, but it sounds so distant that she doesn't even recognize at first that it's speaking to her. When she hears it again, she blinks once and drags her eyes over to the man standing next to her.
When they make eye contact, she just stares at him again, feeling as though her brain were moving through thick, cakey mud. "What are we going to do, Henry?" She asks finally, her own voice even sounding distant to her. It might have startled her, how distant it was, had she been fully aware of what was going on. Maybe her brain moving at this slow of a pace is a good thing, maybe that's the adrenaline saving her from a total breakdown.
She feels something squeeze her arm and she looks down, realizing Henry's hand is on top of her forearm with his thumb spread across to the inside of her elbow. He rubs his thumb back and forth a few times while almost palpitating her muscle there with his other fingers, "We'll figure it out," he replies in a soft voice.
She shakes her head, "No, Henry, what are we going to do?" She asks in a bit more of a panic, coming out of the mud just slightly for air. "We can't…we're…you're forty-three…I'm…" She lays her head back on the pillow and stares at the ceiling for a moment before it becomes too blurry, and she simply shuts her eyes and feels as the few tears make their way down her cheeks. Swallowing hard, her mind tries to divert to the next worrisome thing to get it off the most worrisome thing for now. "Where are the kids?"
Henry was staring at her the entire time, giving her that gaze like he does whenever he knows he can't fix something. It's the same gaze he gave her when George died, it's the same one she got when he told her about his second deployment, and it's the same one as when she broke her right ankle that time in college and had to be toted around for a few days while she couldn't drive. It was a gaze that made her feel welcomingly small, downsizing her enough to fit in the palm of his hand, safe and away from the world for a little while.
"Alison and Jason are at school. I'd just dropped them off when I got the call," he explains, his hand still rubbing her arm. She picks her head up a little to look at where his other hand is, and then she realizes that's the light weight that's on her hip closest to him. Of course he's making contact anywhere he acceptably can—he was thinking she was having a heart attack. Now she almost wishes she were. "And of course Stevie doesn't know anything yet—none of the kids do," he adds, straightening his back just slightly.
She stares back at the ceiling for a moment and thinks of the kids, wondering how the hell they're going to tell those three. The thought crosses her mind to just not tell them, to make it all go away, and she doesn't push the thought out of her mind soon enough for her own liking. There might even be an appeal to it.
"Babe?" Henry says.
Elizabeth looks over at him and wonders how long she'd been quiet for to prompt that from Henry. "Sorry," she says, "Just thinking."
"Penny for your thoughts?" He says.
She turns her head and lays her cheek on the pillow, moving her hand down to squeeze his that was lying on her hip. Her eyes drop down to view their hands, her IV protruding from her skin as he carefully holds his fingers around her hand, "Just thinking about not telling the kids," she admits after a moment of staring, her voice cracking during the last word. "Just making it…making it all go away." She breathes out, closing her eyes and slowly dragging them back open to look at Henry's face.
When her eyes make contact with his face again, his mouth is hanging open just slightly and his brows are furrowed, "You mean…"
She swallows hard and shrugs one shoulder tiredly, "A baby? At our age, Henry?" She asks quietly, dropping her eyes quickly down to their hands again. "Our kids are closer to adulthood than they are to the diaper stage. Stevie is a sophomore in college, Alison is about to drive, Jason—well, he's thirteen, I'm sure I can imagine everything he'll have to say about it," she says, shaking her head and ending with a sigh. "You can't tell me the thought didn't cross your mind."
He looks down at their hands, too, and his thumb is swiping back and forth across her hand. "It hadn't," he replies, "But I also don't blame you for thinking about it—for exploring all options."
"That's really the only option I've explored." She replies. The silence that falls over them is a bit deafening for her. After a few long moments of that pain, she finally looks up at him, "Am I wrong to think that?"
"No," he answers immediately, shaking his head slightly, "I just…I can't…" he struggles for a moment to find his words and finally stops, taking a deep breath. "I don't want to talk you into one thing or another, babe, you know that," he says softly, looking her in the eyes again. The way he was holding her gaze made her feel rigid, and she realizes that he's rigid, too. "It's, personally, hard for me to imagine terminating a pregnancy of ours." He admits, then quickly adds in, "I don't…God, this is hard." He breathes and rubs his face with his other hand, only momentarily pulling it from her arm and then placing it back on.
"Say it, Henry." Elizabeth prods.
He looks at her for a moment as if he weren't going to, but then he shrugs again and swallows hard, "It's hard for me to imagine terminating a pregnancy of ours, Elizabeth, I mean that. I just wonder…don't you ever wonder how fate works? What if this was fate? Unless there was something medically life threatening to you or the baby, I—" he shrugs again, clearly struggling, "But I'm not selfish enough to believe that it's all my choice, either. We've never operated like that."
She feels her chest swell a bit when he adds that last part, knowing he's right. They've never operated their marriage one sided—they've always been a team on every choice they make. "It's hard for me to imagine, too," she admits finally, looking at him once more, "I'm just not sure what's harder to imagine—a full-term pregnancy and starting all over with raising babies, or the other option." She shakes her head, "Neither one sounds all that appealing if I'm being honest."
"We don't have to decide today." Henry whispers, bringing his hand from her arm and pushing her hair away from her forehead, pressing his lips down on it for a few moments and taking a deep breath before moving away. "I'll support you. You know that."
"I know." She whispers, closing her eyes and thinking about their three kids, wondering again how she'll ever tell them. She swallows hard after a moment and looks at Henry with alarm, "I need to call Blake."
"Your security detail has already explained to Blake what happened." Henry says, "Well, that you had symptoms of a heart attack. Your detail doesn't know anything else other than that you're okay."
Before he could finish his sentence, she was already patting around for her phone, "Where is it?" She mumbles mostly to herself, and then sees Henry looking at her sheepishly. "What?" She asks him, still half-heartedly looking for it.
"Doctor said no phone when you wake up," he admits, "And that's not because of the baby, obviously, since we didn't know…" Henry throws in awkwardly, looking as though the words tasted like vinegar each time they spewed from his mouth, "But your stress levels were high. They are worried about your overall health, Elizabeth, not just…" he trails off.
"The baby." She picks up and sighs, "Right," she whispers, "Can you tell Blake I'm okay, then, and just let him know I'd experienced a panic attack and I'll be in a little later?"
"A little—" Henry pauses, "Elizabeth, be real."
"I've got to go in." She replies petulantly.
"No, you don't." Henry says, "You know I don't put my foot down with these things, but Elizabeth, I thought I'd lost you today. I thought the stress had finally gotten to you or something happened to you like happened to George."
"Keep your voice down," Elizabeth hisses in a warning tone, looking around at who might be able to hear.
Henry shakes his head, continuing on, "I'm putting my foot down this time." He says, no doubting his sternness. "You need rest."
"I need to take my mind off this." She argues, gesturing to her midsection in a toddler-like fashion. "I can't sit here all day and think about it, Henry. It's going to drive me insane."
"Then we'll sit and watch TV all day or read or something." Henry argues sternly, "I'm not sorry about saying no this time, Elizabeth. I've never demanded anything of you." He explains, "I am sorry that you can't go do what you want to take your mind off things, but I am not asking anymore for you to watch your health, I'm now doing my job as your husband to make you sit and do nothing for one day while you recover from a major health scare."
She looks away sullenly and feels more pricking in her eyes, and she takes a shaky breath because it's so frustrating to not want to cry yet to have no control over your tears. As badly as she wants the tests to be inaccurate or just plain wrong, she knows deep down that there were signs. And she sees, still, as she fights back the urge to sob, that there are signs unfolding right in front of her.
Closing her eyes, she thinks back to this morning—what feels like decades ago now—when she woke Henry up in such a flirty way, doing more than just flirting when he was finally awake. She thinks back to last week when she made her security detail stop on their way home at the ice cream shop just to get her a chocolate ice cream cone because she had been yearning—deeply yearning—for one all day long at work. She hadn't even made herself think twice about just asking them to pop by and grab the cone for her, nor had she thought twice about the dizziness and nausea she'd been experiencing. She genuinely thought she had some kind of health concern causing the dizziness which ultimately causes the nauseousness, but instead, Henry was right. She had done this with Jason so bad in the first trimester that she sometimes just had to lay in bed and hope the world would stop spinning.
The worst of all, she'd missed her last two periods, but she wrote it off as stress from George and her job or pre-menopause or something much more realistic. A pregnancy? That she never had thought of. That was unrealistic at best. She thought she was past the age to worry much about that, but obviously she's gotten a rude awakening.
"How did I not see it?" She murmurs out loud, mostly just collecting her thoughts.
He shakes his head, "How did I not see it?" He asks, "I know your body almost as well as you do, Elizabeth, and I knew that something was off. I just…I don't know if I never imagined it would be this or what." He admits, shaking his head again in disbelief. "I mean, it makes so much sense now that you dragged me out at eleven the other night to go get popcorn when you realized we didn't have any. It makes so much sense," he repeats.
She thinks about what he says for a moment and then laughs under her breath just slightly, sounding exhausted as she does, "There were a lot of clues that I should've noticed, too," she admits, "But I think…I don't know. The biggest clue might have been that I was so hot for it that I dragged you into the fitting room when we were out shopping for a new tie for you." She says, trying to hold back the pitiful laugh that's wanting to come off her lips, "I love you and I will always love having sex with you, but Henry, a fitting room?" She asks in slight disbelief, almost unable to keep herself from giggling about the entire situation and the ridiculousness of the scene.
Henry is biting his lip as he is obviously remembering that day's happenings, but then he looks down and gets serious again, taking a deep breath, "I don't know much about childbirth," he starts, "Other than that I've watched three pregnancies up close and personal and have watched three births up close, too, and I just can't help but think about the toll it takes on your body."
She swallows thick and takes a deep breath, too, and lets it out with a sigh, "That's the other thing that worries me." She admits, "Aside from just being parents at our age—parents of a newborn, that is—I am nervous." She says and shrugs, trying to just flat out admit that she's scared is hard for her whenever, and this time is no different. "I don't know anything about the dangers at this age, for me or for a baby." She admits.
Before Henry could answer, the doctor comes back in after a quick knock, "Dr. McCord, Mrs. McCord," he says, resorting to calling her that instead of Elizabeth or Madam Secretary, "Test results are all back and are conclusive. You are, certainly, pregnant. With your hCG levels, there's no denying it." He says, "However, we're going to go ahead and do a sonogram just to be sure and to—"
"I'd really rather not." Elizabeth interrupts, "Not today, I mean…I just…" she swallows hard, her eyes darting around to try to find some excuse, "I'm pretty wiped out and overwhelmed," she finally says, which is definitely the truth even though that's not the reason she doesn't want to look, "I need a day or two to process it all." She says. She can feel Henry staring a hole through her head, but she chooses to not look over at him. If she gives in, she'll tell the doctor never mind, because she'll see the heartbroken look on Henry's face. He'd never admit it to her, but he wants to see the sonogram just as badly as she doesn't want to see it.
The doctor looks at her in surprise, waving the sonographer back out of the room with her machine. "Alright, I understand," he says, "I'd suggest making an appointment with your obstetrician as soon as possible, though, to go ahead and figure out what lifestyle changes you need to make."
She looks at him and feels angered again, wondering why he would just assume that she's going through with all this in the first place, "Yes," she says, "Got it."
He nods and signs a few papers before hanging the clipboard back up on the wall, "You'll be all set to go later today as long as your other blood levels are looking good," he says, "However, I'm going to strongly recommend that you hold off on heading straight back to work. Give it a day or two of rest and—"
"I can't do that," Elizabeth interrupts, and the way Henry looks at her makes her want to hit him, too. "I can't," she says to Henry, "I have too much on my plate."
"I'm not going to tell you what to do," the doctor states, "But I am going to let you know that it's not going to be good for your health if you don't slow it down some, Elizabeth, baby or not." He says, and the way he says it makes her realize he's caught on—he knows she's not sure that she wants to go through with having this baby. He starts to go out the door again and then stops himself midway as if he were going to add something else, but then goes ahead and walks out.
She looks over at Henry, "You should go get the kids from school."
"Blake is already on it." He says.
"You've talked to Blake?" She asks with a level of shock in her voice.
He waves his phone in the air that he'd been texting on, "Right here," he says.
Quickly, she snatches it from his hand and turns away so he can't reach it without completely reaching over her, "Just let me—"
"Elizabeth," Henry whines and gets up, snatching the phone back from her. "Strict no-phone orders. I've only been texting Blake so that he can get our kids, so that he stops begging to know if you're okay, and to come up with a game plan to tell Jason and Alison when they ask why Blake is getting them and not us."
She folds her arms over her chest and looks over at him, "Fine." She whispers.
Later that day after she'd been discharged, her levels looking much better and more stable, Henry drove her home with the security detail following them. They went over the game plan that Henry and Blake had told Alison and Jason, and they were on the same page with what all to say happened today.
"It was just…a panic attack?"
"Just?" Elizabeth breathes, laughing throatily and tiredly, "Those are…those will make you feel like you're dying, Noodle." She says as she makes her way over to the couch. She feels stiff from laying in the hospital bed and getting dehydrated and having needles poked into her. She also feels dazed, though, as she plops down and closes her eyes momentarily before leaning into Alison, hugging her in her arms tightly. She rests her cheek on the crown of Alison's head, closing her eyes again as she breathes in the way her daughter smells—something only a parent can truly appreciate.
"And you're okay?" Jason asks suspiciously, looking at Henry who was standing at the arm of the couch nearest Elizabeth.
Henry picks one leg up and sits halfway on the arm, looking down at Elizabeth and the confused Alison before looking back at Jason again, "She's okay." Henry says.
Elizabeth swallows thick when she hears the slight crack in Henry's voice, knowing that really she was not okay today—it could've gone way worse. It could've really been a heart attack with the amount of stress she has been under. Yet, she also hears that slight hint of a lie in his voice. After twenty-three years of marriage, she can sure detect a lie of her husband's, but she's pretty sure her kids have not gained that ability yet.
"Why don't you guys go upstairs and finish your homework, and I'll be up to check it in a minute?" Henry says.
Alison quickly jumps out of Elizabeth's arms, glad to have the opportunity to escape before running up the stairs. Jason looks at her confused, then looks at his mom, then at his dad, "Someone's not telling the truth." He says, "And I believe that—"
"Not everything is a conspiracy, bud." Henry says.
Jason squints his eyes, "That's exactly what someone would say who's trying to hide a conspiracy." He says, picking his backpack up and tossing it over his shoulder while standing up and heading up the stairs.
When they heard his door shut, they both look at each other and couldn't help but snort. "Why's he like this?" Elizabeth asks.
"Why's he—" Henry laughs quietly and raises a brow, "He's a miniature you."
"Is not." She quips, laying back on the couch and settling herself longways against the cushions. She kicks her shoes off and brings her feet up to Henry's leg, wiggling her toes. "It's been a long day." She says.
Henry looks down like he was going to argue with her, then just takes her foot in his hand and presses his thumb into the bottom of her foot like he always does—directly in the tender spot that hurts her the most.
She bites her lip and digs her head backward into the couch cushion, "You are truly amazing." She mumbles, closing her eyes. "God!" She moans, unable to hold it in after a few moments, "Right there—oh, right there."
"What the hell is going on in here?"
"Stevie?" Henry asks, whipping his body around and dropping Elizabeth's foot.
Elizabeth opens her eyes and pushes herself up to see over the back of the couch, "Stevie!" She confirms, smiling big. Immediately she feels tears rise up to her eyes, and she blinks them away before wiping at her skin, "What are you doing here?"
Stevie is rolling her suitcase over to the side and parking it, frowning at the two of them, "Well, I was coming home for Thanksgiving like we'd planned."
"Oh God," Elizabeth mumbles, "I forgot that was today."
"Wow," Stevie says, "Real nice."
"Hey, your mom has had a hard day." Henry defends her quickly.
Elizabeth swallows hard, knowing it really is crappy to forget that her daughter was coming home from college today. "Blake came and got me from the airport." She says, "But I can see that I interrupted something, so…" She grabs her suitcase handle and starts upstairs, but Elizabeth pushes herself the rest of the way up to sit up.
"Honey," she says, "Your father was just rubbing my foot." She says, unsure why she feels the need to defend herself. Maybe the guilt is already starting to eat at her, maybe this is how it feels to be pregnant when you're not supposed to be. "I was in the hospital today for—"
"You were in the hospital?!" Stevie exclaims, "My God, Mom, no one tells me anything anymore!"
"Well, you—"
"When were you planning on telling me?"
"Tonight." She replies, leaning against the back of the couch with both hands. "I just got home."
Stevie sighs, "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." She says, "Symptoms of a heart attack. But all is…good." She says, trying to not pause for too long to find that last word. All isn't good, but Stevie doesn't need to know that. She's at least not going to be dying any time soon.
Her daughter folds her arms as if she's ready to hit back with an argument, but instead she just shift her weight and finally grabs her suitcase handle again, "I'll be upstairs." She says.
When they hear her door shut, Elizabeth falls backwards onto the arm of the couch and covers her eyes with her hands, digging the butt of her palms into her eye sockets and rubbing while groaning. "Great," she mumbles, "Our daughter thinks she walked into us getting it on when, in reality, we have been doing that too much and have found ourselves with the consequence of our action."
"Actions," Henry can't help but correct, and Elizabeth just spreads her fingers apart so that her eye peeks through. "What? Multiple."
"God, Henry," she moans and covers her eyes again, bending her neck forward and letting her head hang just slightly, "We can't be proud of this."
She feels him crawling down her body and scooting on the very edge of the couch, cuddling her between him and the cushions as if they were working together to be a bun while she was the hot dog. "Can I tell you a secret, Elibet?" He whispers, using that nickname surely to try to get a smile out of her.
She resists, though, and just keeps her hands over her face while pulling them apart just slightly, squishing her cheeks in, "What?" She asks, genuinely curious what this secret might actually be.
"I'm always proud of this." He whispers, and she feels his hand start to drift up her thigh to her hip, then into the dip of her waist, "I'm a proud man, and I know that's a sin, but I can't help that one." He whispers, inches away from her face as she finally drops her hands and is fully looking into his eyes.
"What are you talking about?" She whispers.
He smiles a little, "I'm proud that you're my wife—even when you're stubborn and the most hard-headed woman that I know." He adds in with a smirk, getting a small little slap on the stomach from her. He clears his throat and drops his voice a little lower, pulling his gaze down between them, "I'm proud of our love." He continues, "And I'm proud that my wife still wants to have sex with me enough to let us have a slip-up." He whispers, being so deathly quiet as if his life depended on it. Which, it did, because if the kids found out from him being too loud, she'd surely kill him.
She swallows thick, tensing up a bit when she feels his hand start to move in between their bodies to her stomach, and she bats his hand away quickly. "Henry…" She whispers.
He nods, "I'm sorry," he says quickly, putting his hand back on the dip of her waist, "I'm proud of you, no matter what you decide. You know I'm here and will support you in whatever you decide, Elibet." He whispers, rubbing his nose against hers gently.
She immediately closes her eyes and finds his hand, giving it a shaky squeeze as she feels her body start to tremble along with just her hand, "I'm scared, Henry." She finally admits, fully coming out and saying it, "I'm genuinely scared. I don't want to…" She couldn't finish the sentence, so she just snuggled deeper into his neck and tightened her eyes as she thinks of the hard conversation she might have to have with her doctor soon.
"We don't have to decide right now." He whispers, "Let's just focus on getting some rest. I'll be right back after I help the kids." He says, gently kissing her on the forehead before carefully sliding to his feet and heading up the stairs.
She watches momentarily until he was out of her view, then she snuggles back in. Her mind is still racing, even though she knows he's right—they don't have to make a decision right now. Her eyes drop to her stomach and she quickly pulls them back up. She doesn't even want to allow herself to remember for now that it's real—she wants to keep this a secret a little longer, even if she's just lying to herself.