“That Lucy. She told me something was going on, but I thought she was letting her imagination run wild.”
“What do you mean? I didn’t tell her anything about Harvey,” I said into the phone.
“I’m going to ask her for the lottery numbers,” my mother said and laughed at her own joke.
“How’s dad doing, mom?” I asked, hoping the cardiologist appointment the day before had gone well. She gave me the good news that everything was fine, and I hung up with her convinced my life was finally back on track.
A month later, we celebrated Harvey closing the deal on his own bar. He’d decided to give it another try on my encouragement. While I still helped with events at the company I worked for, I realized that my talents were useful in helping him at the bar as well, which he rented out for events (my idea).
Several months after that, for the second time in my life, Tammy suggested I take a pregnancy test.
“Girl, you don’t remember when you had your last period, you keep eating all of my ice cream, and afterward you want to throw it up? Let’s go to the drug store right now.” Which we did. As I sat on the toilet at the drug store and saw the plus sign turn a bright pink, I covered my mouth in shock. I pulled up my pants and opened the door, waving the stick in the air. We both screamed, attracting attention from the people at the pharmacy, and I hurried us outside.
“Oh my gosh!” I yelled. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!”
“Oh my gosh!” Tammy yelled with me. “How are you going to tell Harvey?” she said.
“Oh, crap!” I said, turning from absolute delight to absolute terror.
“What? For sure he’ll be excited! You said he’s always wanted kids,” she tried to reassure me.
“Yes, that’s when he was married and with Natalie. This is different. I’m only his girlfriend. Oh my gosh. But you’re right. He loves me. He tells me that every day without fail. It’ll be fine,” I tried to convince myself. That night he was supposed to take me out to dinner, so I’d tell him then, or maybe when we got back so that it’s not in public. Right?
I hesitated all day, and even took two more pregnancy tests to be sure, but they were clear as could be. For a moment, fear took over, and I panicked. I immediately called my gynecologist (whom I had seen almost as soon as I got back from my vacation), and since they’d had a cancellation, her assistant told me to come in right away.
I sat in the room for a few minutes before Dr. Rice came in.
“Hello, Audrey,” she said. What a nice woman she’d always been with me.
“Hi, Dr. Rice. Sorry so last minute, but I want to be sure as soon as possible.”
“I understand. Especially after last time. So let’s see what’s going on here. You had positive tests?” I nodded.
“Well, let’s see if we find anything on an ultrasound since you don’t know when your last period was.”
“It’s been so strange since after the miscarriage that I kind of stopped trying to keep track of it,” I said.
“Let’s take a look then. This will be a bit cold.” A few seconds later I was looking at a black and white mish mash I couldn’t understand.
“Well you’re definitely pregnant,” she said, and I put my arm up to my head, as tears fell. “And, hold on… You’re quite pregnant. I’d put you at three and a half months.” I dropped my arm and gasped.
“Shut up!” I said.
“Yes, ma’am, give or take a week, but the size of the baby, which looks to be healthy, is that of a three-month gestation.”
“Oh wow,” I said, tearing up again. “Boy or girl?”
“We won’t know for several weeks more, but you can make the appointment to follow up with Clara up front. Here’s a picture of the ultrasound and a prescription for vitamins.” She went on with instructions on foods and medicines to avoid, and what to expect in the next few weeks, but I kept staring at the photo in my hands. I walked out of there in a daze, looking at the ultrasound picture every few minutes to make sure the pregnancy was real. The time on my phone said it was almost 5:30, and I had to go home to doll up for dinner.
It was supposed to be at an upscale restaurant. I made a joke over the phone about him requesting a bottle of wine from the manager, to which he told me to wear something nice, ignoring my joke. I’d never heard him worried about a fancy dinner or what I wore, but I played along.
Dinner was delicious, but I noticed we were both rather quiet. I knew I wasn’t being as talkative because I was trying desperately not to show him the ultrasound photo I had in my purse. But I was nervous about his silence. When they brought him the wine and I refused (not to his surprise), he wanted to toast.
“Here’s to seven months together, the happiest seven months of my life,” he said, and I raised my water glass to his wine glass.
“Oh, Harvey, you’re sweet. I didn’t even remember.”
“I have a surprise for you for our anniversary back at my place,” he said.
