Dallas, Texas
August 1978
"Sue Ellen, is this your son?"
Sitting on the patio, looking out over the manicured gardens of Brooktree Psychiatric with Pamela, Sue Ellen sighed at the sound of a familiar voice behind her.
"Yes."
"What's his name?"
"John Ross."
"How old is he?"
"Almost six months."
Answering the questions, Sue Ellen wished Doctor Conrad would leave them alone. Pamela was the first visitor who hadn't immediately started asking why she'd done what she'd done, or whether she regretted it. The last thing she wanted was for Doctor Conrad to put those ideas in Pam's head.
"And who's this visiting with you?"
"This is Pamela, my sister-in-law."
"Lovely to meet you. I'm Doctor Dagmara Conrad."
"You too. Dagmara's a pretty name."
"Thank you."
Both Pamela and Doctor Conrad fell quiet as the conversation reached a natural pause, but Doctor Conrad didn't seem in any hurry to leave.
"Sue Ellen, would you like to hold him?"
Pam moved her arms, offering the baby to her. The gesture was well-intentioned, but not what she needed right now.
"He's so content with you; I don't want to disturb him. I think I'll wait."
"Is that really it, Sue Ellen?" Doctor Conrad's tone was suggestive, as if insinuating something deeper.
"Yes."
"Very well."
"You don't believe me. Pamela, tell Doctor Conrad I'm a good mother."
Sue Ellen didn't feel like holding the baby, but that didn't mean she didn't love him. Little John was content with Pamela, and she didn't want to upset him. Besides, she was too exhausted to deal with a fussy baby right now.
"She is. Sue Ellen is a good mother to little John," Pamela assured.
"I never said she wasn't," Doctor Conrad replied, feigning innocence despite her earlier implication.
"You know I wanted the baby. I wanted him so much. I even asked JR to see a doctor for my birthday, and he did. I wanted little John. I don't know how it all turned into what it did, but I wanted him. You have to believe me."
"I believe you," Pamela said softly, responding when Doctor Conrad didn't. Readjusting the baby in her arms, Pamela reached out, touching Sue Ellen's hand with one of her own.
"I just wasn't ready for another baby. Look how small little John is. He was even smaller when JR and Jock decided we should have another. It wasn't fair."
Sue Ellen's voice wavered, her mouth feeling gluey as though she might cry. When Pamela agreed, "no, it wasn't," and squeezed her hand, the tears began to fall.
She hadn't meant to say anything. The fear of being called selfish, insensitive, immoral, or wicked was too great. She already felt guilty enough; she didn't need someone else's judgment. The thought of being asked if she regretted it terrified her because, while the way she'd handled things had been harsh, she didn't regret the outcome.
She wasn't ready for another baby. She'd told JR, the doctors, even Pamela. But no one had truly listened, and no one had offered the kind of help she needed. Everyone assumed that once she got past the morning sickness and adjusted to the idea, everything would be fine. But to her, the thought of staying expecting even one more day had felt like hell. It was 1978, not 1878; she was supposed to have rights, specifically the right to choose.
It wasn't her fault she'd had to take matters into her own hands. She'd asked for help, been turned down, and no one had directed her where she could get assistance. Now, she was left with the memories of the experience and the judgment that came with her decision. Asking her for more than she'd already explained and endured wasn't fair. She was already suffering enough.
"Doctor Conrad, would you?" Pamela's voice broke through her thoughts. Her face buried in her hands, Sue Ellen realised Pamela had handed the baby over to comfort her. Pamela was so kind, so maternal, and Sue Ellen couldn't help feeling she didn't deserve her at all.
'G2P1A1. Baby blues noted following first birth, postpartum depression never diagnosed. Patient resistant to discussion. Referral to psychiatric services made same day as hospital admission following self-induced abortion of second pregnancy. Outpatient referral by obstetrician not actioned. Inpatient psychiatric assessment includes suspected perinatal depression. Patient quick to remind clinical staff of federal rights. Patient emotionally distressed regarding reputation. Patient unremorseful, query defensive or honest feelings. Further sessions required to determine. Patient admitted involuntarily, has not enquired about discharge. Recommended follow-up: daily sessions with psychiatrist, inpatient admission until further notice. Unsupervised visitation allowed. Low danger to minor child six months. Regular medications: nil.'
Reading the report, Jock knew the assessment wasn't good. Sue Ellen was unwell, and the doctors seemed convinced her condition was longstanding. He maintained that her pregnancy with his son had been ideal, that the problems had only started after she gave birth and were nothing more than baby blues. Their baby, John Ross Ewing III, was perfect, happy, healthy, a joy to be around. Even Sue Ellen had acknowledged that before conceiving again.
It was her second pregnancy, the one with JR's child, that had been her undoing. JR wasn't supposed to have been able to give her another baby, not without medical assistance. When it happened naturally, it had been a shock and might have come with its own complications. Maybe Sue Ellen had sensed something was wrong, that things weren't as they should be. Maybe, despite loving JR, she wasn't ready to have another child with him so soon.
There was also the possibility that Sue Ellen had known exactly what she wanted and had simply gone after it, nothing more than selfishness, a vain attempt to control everything and everyone. But he didn't want to believe that was true. His Sue Ellen wasn't like that.