So Much It Hurts (31 page)

Four sticks later, eight bright pink lines aligned themselves like an army battalion on the back of my toilet. Tears pooled in my eyes, my stomach twisted in knots. “Oh god, this is really happening.” The contents of my stomach once again found their way to the porcelain bowl below.

“Hey, Shannon.” Thank god she picked up on the first ring. Otherwise, I might have lost my nerve.

“Hi, Kaitlyn. What’s up?”

I knew I just had to spill it; no hem hawing around. “I’m pregnant,” I announced.

“Wow!” Shannon cried, “That’s wonderful. Congratulations!”

“No, Shannon, I’m
pregnant
.”

“Right. I heard you. That’s fantastic!”

“No, you don’t understand. I think I’m six weeks pregnant.”

“Six weeks? I don’t understand. This is a good thing, right?”

“Six weeks ago we were at the beach.”

Silence.

“Shannon?”

“Oh my god, Kaitlyn,” she whispered. “What are you going to do?”

Immediately my sobs echoed through the phone. “I don’t know, Shannon. I’m terrified to tell Michael.”

Shannon breathed a deep sigh into the phone—one of those long, drawn out, ‘need time to think’ kind of sighs. “Well, you don’t have to tell him
everything
, Kaitlyn,” she insinuated.

“I don’t know. I’m not so sure I could keep it a secret. I mean, we’ve only had sex once in the last eight weeks, and that was the night after we got back from the beach…guilt sex, I guess. Just once. In eight weeks.”

“Well, it only takes one time…obviously. Seriously though, about you and Michael—only once in the past two months?”

“Yeah. I mean, by the time he comes to bed at night I’m usually asleep. And half the time we end up with Eli in our bed at some point during the night. And the more that time passes, the more awkward it feels to initiate something. We never talk about it or anything. We just haven’t really
done it
, except that one time.” My words spilled out of my mouth almost faster than I could speak them.

“Well, you’ll have to tell Michael something. You can’t hide it forever.”

I sighed. She was right; I had to tell Michael. I just didn’t know how. “I know. I will. Oh, and please don’t breathe a word of this to anyone yet, okay?”

“You know I would never do that. I’m here for you no matter what. I love you, my friend.”

“Thanks, Shannon. I love you, too.”

I waited until Eli had gone to bed before I talked to Michael about it. I also waited until Michael was sitting down before I broke the news. He was sitting on the sofa with his iPad on his lap, checking the stock market.

I wrung my hands and paced back and forth in the kitchen, trying to get the nerve to talk to him. I practiced under my breath while I paced. “
Michael
, I’m pregnant. Michael, I’m
pregnant. Michael
, by a miracle of God, I’m
pregnant
.” I wondered how Mary from the Bible felt when she had to tell her fiancé, Joseph, about her immaculate conception, unsure of how he would react to the news.

Finally, I decided the only way to tell him was to just come out and say it. I had no other choice. He would either accept the fact that I was pregnant without hesitation, or he would berate me with questions until I broke and confessed my guilt. Without a moment’s delay, I walked into the living room where he was sitting. “Michael.”

“Mmmhmm,” he barely acknowledged me, staring at his iPad.

“I need to tell you something.”

“Okay.” He still didn’t look up.

“It’s very important.” I broke out in a cold sweat. Adrenaline pumped its way throughout my body.
God, this stress can’t be good for the baby.

He finally put the iPad on the coffee table and looked up at me. “What is it, Kaitlyn?”

I can’t do this!
“I’m pregnant,” I barely squeaked out the words and closed my eyes, waiting for a response.

Silence.

I peeked at Michael who was still sitting there. “Really?”

“Yes. Really,” I affirmed.

Michael just continued to stare at me, dumbfounded. “How far along?” he finally asked, looking skeptically at my flat stomach.

“Six weeks, I think.”

“Hmmm, that’s interesting,” he mumbled under his breath, taking a moment to mull the idea over in his mind.

Idiot
, I chided myself.
You’re never going to get away with this.

Then suddenly, without warning, he laughed and stood up to hug me. “Well, I guess what they say is true. It only takes once.” Wrapping me in his arms, he swung me around in a full circle. “Looks like we’re going to have another baby!”

I heard a nervous chuckle escape my mouth.

Yes. Yes, we are. I mean,
we
are, right?
I smiled weakly. The uncertainty chipped away at my conscience like a pickaxe against stone.

It had been nearly three weeks since I’d broken the news to Michael. I barely placed the eggs onto the table before my face had time to meet with the trashcan by the sink. The smell of eggs alone turned my stomach, but to have to whip them up for Eli and serve them for breakfast was more than my will to suppress my gag reflex could handle.

Eli looked up from the table at his dad who had just stepped into the kitchen. “Mommy threw up again,” he announced as he scraped the plate with his fork and shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. My gag reflex threatened me again and I had to turn away.

“I take it your morning sickness is in full swing today, huh?” Michael asked as he swiped his to-go mug of coffee off the counter and took a sip.

“You noticed?” I said smugly, wiping my mouth on a paper towel and tossing it in the trashcan.

Michael smiled. “I don’t remember you being sick like this with Eli.”

“That’s because I wasn’t,” I said flatly.

Chalk up another difference between this pregnancy and my last pregnancy.

I found myself scrutinizing every detail of this pregnancy, searching for any minute detail that would give me the answers I needed about the father of the baby. Guilt still found a way to rob me of the joy I should have felt in carrying another child. My pregnancy dreams had been so vivid lately; I hoped my conscience didn’t decide to rear its ugly head, causing me to spill the truth to Michael while I slept. I had been known to talk in my sleep a time or two. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling to have your dreams retold to you over the breakfast table.

“Well, I hope it ends soon. There’s nothing like trying to enjoy your morning coffee mixed with the aroma of vomit.” He tilted his mug up as if he were indicating me, and then took a sip.

“Thanks,” I deadpanned.

Michael laughed. “I’m kidding. Seriously, I hope you feel better.”

I tossed him the leftovers I’d packed up for his lunch. “So do I. Have a great day.”

“You too.” He bent down to kiss Eli’s cheek, then tossed his hand up and waved to me before swiftly opening the door and stepping out into the garage.

“Love you too,” I mumbled under my breath, staring at the closed door Michael had so swiftly dashed out of on his way to work.

Remind me again why I chose to come home.

“Mommy, I’m finished.”

Oh, yeah. He’s why.

I grabbed Eli’s plate off the table and stood over the trashcan, gagging while I scraped his leftovers into the garbage.

I spent the morning on the sofa trying to keep my sickness at bay. Eli was home for summer break, so he spent the morning watching cartoons and playing with his wooden building logs. It wasn’t until mid-morning that I felt like getting up and doing something. I decided to start my day with a shower.

The hot water spraying across my back felt like heaven. Guilt and nausea twisted my stomach into a million tiny knots. That night I would tell Michael the truth. I couldn’t live like this any longer. Terror gripped me like a vice, but I knew I couldn’t live with myself, giving birth to a child that may or may not be Michael’s baby. He had to know the truth, regardless of the consequences.

I managed to make it through the rest of the day in one piece. Eli was a big help in bringing me cold washcloths and sips of water. I’d never had morning sickness that lasted all day. Of course, my festering guilt didn’t help either.

Dinner went off without a hitch. I cooked and cleaned without a single gag. Hopefully the rest of the night would be a breeze, too. Well, except for the moment I spilled the truth to Michael. I had no idea what to expect, but I knew it wouldn’t be good. I wondered if I should start packing after I finished washing the dishes.

Eli skipped into the living room where Michael had just sat down on the sofa, flipping through the list of his recorded stock market news and sports highlights television shows.

“Daddy, will you play a game with me?”

“Sure,” Michael chuckled. “As long as we can watch my show at the same time.”

“Okay, Daddy. I’ll go get the game.” Eli bounded up the stairs, but was back in a flash.

I heard them setting up the candy themed game board with the colorful playing cards, preparing for a father/son game night marathon. Eli usually liked to play three or four games in a row.

I took that time to make a short phone call.

“Hey, Shannon,” I said when she answered her phone.

“Oh hey, Kaitlyn. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. It’s been a rough day.”

“I hate to hear that. Morning sickness is the pits.”

“You’re telling me,” I laughed.

We made small talk for a few minutes about our day and the weather. We chatted about her son’s upcoming birthday party. We even discussed her dreaded mother-in-law’s impending visit.

After several minutes of superficial conversation, Shannon piped up. “So, what’s
really
up?”

I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn’t really want to have to bring it up. I was so thankful she knew me well enough to know I needed her to broach the topic. “I’m going to tell him tonight.”

“I thought you already did.”

“No, not yet. I told him I was pregnant, but I haven’t told him the truth.”

“You’re going to tell him about Chris?”

“Yes.”

Silence.

“Shannon?”

“Yeah, I’m still here…just wondering if that’s a good idea.”

“I can’t live like this, Shannon. The guilt is killing me. What if this is Chris’s baby? This baby will come out with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes, looking nothing like Eli. Michael will know then. I would rather tell him now and deal with it now than wait until the baby is born.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “I’m here if you need me, or if you need a place to come to when this is over.”

“Thanks, Shannon,” I said graciously. “Say a prayer he doesn’t go off the deep end. I’m really freaking out here.”

“It will be okay. I’ll say a prayer, but Michael is a good man. Everything is going to be fine,” she assured me.

“I sure hope so. Talk to you later.”

“Bye, Kaitlyn.”

I hung up the phone just as I heard Eli racing up the stairs toward his room. I timed that phone call just right.

“Eli, it’s time for a bath and bed,” I called up the stairs. “I’ll come run your bath water.”

“Awww,” Eli whined. “I wanted to play the other game too.”

“Not tonight sweetheart. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Eli replied and sulked to the bathroom.

After I ran the water, helped him rinse his hair, and assisted him in getting his pajamas on, it was finally time to say goodnight. The day had been one of those days I couldn’t wait for bedtime. It was hard to focus on being a good mother when I vomited all day while my guilt suffocated me.

“Goodnight, Mommy.”

“Goodnight, honey. I love you.”

“So much it hurts?”

He remembered.

“Yes, baby. So much it hurts.” I shut his bedroom door just in time to wipe the first tear on my sleeve.

I avoided Michael until I knew for sure that Eli was asleep. I folded laundry in our bedroom while I watched my favorite recorded show about rich teenagers who party too much. It felt nice to lose myself in those mind numbing episodes. Before I knew it, I had finished folding and putting everything away. I had avoided the inevitable long enough. It was one of those ‘now or never’ moments. Quietly, I walked into the living room where Michael sat with his laptop, a bowl of Neapolitan ice cream, and his favorite sports show on television.