Page 38 of One Day at a Time

‘But I’m also, erm, pregnant,’ she’d told him in the café that day.

‘You’re what?’

Despite giving it much thought, she hadn’t been able to think of a single reason that he could have misheard what she’d just said.

‘I’m pregnant, Gregor. I’m going to have a baby.’

‘Mybaby?’

‘Of course it’s your baby. How could it not be?’

‘Well, we agreed we could see other people…’

‘Yes, but that doesn’t mean I was straight on Tinder or waited for the next person to turn up at my door with a delivery and then randomly shagged them.’

‘I wasn’t suggesting that, but we haven’t had sex since…’ He’d stopped, and she’d seen the cogs of his mind whirring like washing on a line in a hurricane.

She’d sat back and shrugged off her jacket, clearly showing the extent of her advancing condition, as she’d finished the sentence for him. ‘Since five months ago. The night of our anniversary party.’

He’d stared at the blossoming shape of her body. ‘Fuck. You’re pregnant.’

‘Which is the message I’ve been trying to get across here.’ She’d said it gently, aware that she’d had a whole month to get used to the idea, and this was the equivalent of him discovering aliens were real and one of them had impregnated his estranged wife.

‘But all those years we tried…’

‘I know. Fertility Gods have a sense of humour.’

He’d sat back in his chair, flabbergasted. ‘I thought you’d summoned me to talk about selling the house. But now… I mean… I… well, whatdoesthis mean?’ He’d run his fingers through his hair as the words left him. Sheena had wondered if she’d ever had a conversation with so many stilted pauses or changes of tack.

‘I don’t know. I think I’ve just been trying to find a way to come to terms with it all. Especially after last time. I’ve spent so many years trying to detach myself from my last pregnancy, and now, almost thirty years later, the memories are coming back and hitting me when I least expect them.’

A cloud had crossed his face as he’d taken that in. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll always be sorry, you know that. It was a mistake.’

‘I know. And if I’m being honest, I always thought that the fact I didn’t get pregnant again was some kind of karmic punishment. That’s why I accepted it, I think. Maybe I was punishing myself too.’

He’d stared down at the table for a moment, taking in her words, but saying nothing. Somewhere back in the early years, they had stopped talking about it, as if it was the only way they could deal with the pain. But now wasn’t the time to rehash it all and she’d seen that when he’d lifted his head, stared at her stomach again.

‘And now you’re pregnant,’ he’d said again, as if repeating it would make it sink in. ‘How are you? Are you okay? Do you feel okay? I mean, your age…’

He was starting to spiral and Sheena could feel the anxiety and shock oozing from his pores, so she had gone for calm reassurance. ‘Gregor, I’m fine. Everything is good and I’m perfectly healthy.’

‘I don’t know how to ask this, but what do you want to do this time? About the baby, I mean.’

She’d flinched, aware that perhaps she should have expected the question, but defensive because in her mind there had only ever been one answer. ‘I’m going to keep it, Gregor. I’m sorry if you think that should be a consultation, but it just isn’t. If you don’t want that, I’ll understand and I won’t hold it against you or ask anything of you. This is a lot to take in.’

His head had dipped and she’d seen that he was doing some kind of deep breathing that he’d probably learned at Pilates, or reiki, or whatever fitness programme he was currently embracing.

‘It might take me a minute to get used to the idea of being a dad,’ he’d said and she’d respected his honesty.

‘I get that. It’s not exactly the kind of newsflash we expect at our age. Especially with where we are now. But, Gregor, I mean it when I say that I’m not asking anything of you here. You can be as involved or not involved as you want to be.’

‘Seriously? How could you think I wouldn’t want to be part of this? In fact, isn’t this a reason to give us and our marriage another try?’

Her hand had gone to her bump, as if shielding it from hearing its parents have a discussion about the future of the family it was about to come into. She’d tried to reassure it by speaking in a calm, warm voice. ‘Gregor, you started off this conversation today by telling me that you now saw it was right for us to split.’ Her words hadn’t been a castigation, just a gentle reminder of fact. ‘And I still believe that too. Why don’t we start off by trying to do this as friends and see how we go?’

In fairness to him, he’d honoured that since then. Friends. No rules. No expectations. They’d spoken several times over the last month, discussed the pregnancy, the baby, the preparations, and now here he was with her at her second antenatal meeting.

‘Let’s just run through a few things first, then, shall we?’ Dr Rose asked. ‘How have you been feeling since we last met?’