lost my brother. What if it comes too early? What if it’s a girl and she has the same issues I do? What if I’m a shitty mom like my mom and I don’t know how to raise her or tell her how much I love her or…or…” Hysterics bubbled out of me.
I was now a woman who got hysterical.
“Hey, hey. You’re not going to be a shitty mom,” he said, holding my face in his hands. “You’re nothing like Evelyn. Don’t think about the what-ifs, because there’s nothing you can do to stop any of it. Let’s just enjoy this. And if things don’t go the way we planned, we’ll deal with it. Always and no matter what. Together.”
I nodded, the shaking in my hands slowing the tighter he held me.
I closed my eyes and calmed my breathing, focusing on my husband’s hands on my face and his familiar presence. My rock. The calm in my storm. The whisper to my scream.
Then I looked up at him, the final reality coming into focus. “Josh. You’re going to be a daddy.”
He gave me a sideways grin, tears and joy twinkling in his eyes. “Kristen…you are going to be a mommy.”
Epilogue
Josh
2 years later
I leaned into the back of the SUV and unbuckled Oliver Brandon from his car seat. Kristen stood next to me, a diaper bag slung over her shoulder. “You’re sure you want to do this? What if she eats him?”
I smiled, lifting the baby into my arms and grabbing his sippy cup. “Evelyn’s trying. She deserves a chance.” I closed the door and turned to her.
My wife eyed me. “She called you a rapscallion.”
I laughed. “Yes—yes she did.”
Kristen and I had good fun with that one. It was Kristen’s favorite nickname for me.
I gave Oliver his sippy cup. “But in all fairness, you told her you were married and pregnant via Potatogram. She had a right to be upset. Give me this.” I took the diaper bag from her. “You shouldn’t be lifting more than you need to.”
She scowled at me. “It’s been four months since my surgery. I can carry a five-pound diaper bag.”
I kissed the side of her stubborn head.
After Oliver was born, we’d tried for over a year to get pregnant again. But lightning didn’t strike twice.
We’d gone to a fertility specialist and done three unsuccessful rounds of in vitro, but her fibroids kept the embryos from implanting.
Kristen had been miserable. Her periods were a nightmare. She was in pain and borderline anemic. That, coupled with the fertility treatments and caring for an infant, had been really hard on us both.
I’d hated to see her suffering.
She was reluctant to pull the trigger on the hysterectomy this time because we’d gotten lucky once. But after over a year of it, we saw Oliver for what he was—a miracle. And one that wouldn’t repeat itself.
So with lots of reassurance from me that it was okay and that I just wanted her to be healthy, she’d had the hysterectomy at twenty-six.
And she was a new person.
I don’t think I truly realized how strong my wife was. Kristen didn’t like to tell me when she wasn’t feeling well. She did a good job hiding it and putting on a happy face. But when the cramps and bleeding were no longer a daily part of her life, she bloomed. She slept better, she had more energy. It transformed her. Even her hangry was less terrifying.
Seeing her like this was a gift.
“You know, Mom will probably have him potty trained by tomorrow,” she said.
“Good.” I peered up at the front of Evelyn’s 1940s-era Simi Valley mansion. “I’m liking this better and better by the minute.”
We made our way up the steps, and Evelyn opened the door before we knocked.
I still couldn’t get used to seeing this lady smiling. But she did. Not at Kristen and me, of course, but she loved her grandson.
“There’s my grandbaby!” she said with a flourish.
She leaned in and gave Kristen and me an air-kiss and then took Oliver from me in a flurry of Chanel No. 5.
Maria, the night nurse Evelyn had on staff to get us to agree to a sleepover, took the diaper bag.
Oliver knew Maria. Evelyn had hired her for us to help out for the first few weeks after he was born and again when Kristen was recovering from her hysterectomy.
Evelyn had become very helpful as of late. She’d gone to being all carrot and no stick now that the stick had stopped