Page 64 of Not a Strong Enough Word

“Hey, beautiful.”

Two words.

Two lines, absolute panic, and two words have me bolstered. It’s Ryan. This is what he does for me, to me. He gives me strength to keep going without even knowing I needed it. Maybe without even knowing he’s doing it.

Could we do this? With him in my corner, the impossible feels possible. And it’s something I want eventually. Janice-or-Janie-or-Jackie’s unapproved question made me realize that earlier. Maybe it was a sign.

I don’t know what kind of mother I’d be, but I know without a doubt that Ryan would be an incredible father. I wouldn’t be alone in this. I’d have him. We would do it.

Gathering my confidence to get it over with and tell him right now, I suck in a deep breath, but he speaks before I get a chance.

“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day. I have some amazing news.”

That breath leaves me like a deflating balloon. “Oh yeah? Well…I have news too.”

“I want to wait to tell you in person, though.”

In person. Yes. That’s the best way. That will give me some time to figure out what I want to say, and I’ll be able to gauge his reaction better. No one wants to have a conversation like this over the phone.

“Same.”

“Okay, I have to go. I just wanted to hear your voice.” He sounds rushed, and there are voices in the background. “Two more sleeps. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Two lines and two more sleeps. I close my eyes and try to breathe deep.

Another green room. This time, there is a bouquet of flowers waiting for me with a note.

One more sleep. I’m so proud of you. I love you.

Another fake smile. Another round of questions. I don’t really hear any of them. I don’t really know how I respond, either, but it must be okay because no one seems to be looking at me like anything is wrong.

If only they knew everything is wrong.

But I smile through it. Answer the questions. Go to commercial. Leave.

One more sleep, and I’m no closer to knowing what to say.

I actually fall asleep when I get back to the hotel, but it feels more like my brain is shutting down than anything restful. Sometime in the middle of the night, I’m jolted awake. For a moment, I’m not sure what woke me. But then, pain lances through my lower abdomen. I double over, waiting for it to pass. When it does, I stumble to the bathroom.

There’s blood everywhere. Much heavier than a period, and it hurts. It’s so painful that I sit on the toilet and cry. I clean up as much as I can before bundling up my satin pajamas and shoving them into the tiny bathroom trash can.

I call the after-hours number for my doctor’s office. They explain what’s happening. Words like “miscarriage” and “pain management” and “watch out for excessive bleeding” float through the phone, but they only half register. I thank them and hang up.

I want desperately to call Ryan, but what am I supposed to say? I was pregnant with your baby. Now I’m not. And to top it off, I’m not sure which of those sentences I’m supposed to be happy about? No, I can’t do that. And besides, it’s late. He’s definitely sleeping.

A hot shower. That would feel good. I run the water as hot as I’m able to stand and step in. As the water splashes over my flushed skin, relief comes with it. I lean my forehead against the cold tile. I couldn’t have had a baby right now.

But right on its heels is a rage hotter than the water running over me. Why shouldn’t I have a baby if that’s what I wanted? I’m in a stable relationship. I have plenty of money. There should be room in my life for the family I want. Yet if things keep going the way they are, I’ll never have that. Where is a baby supposed to fit between writing, editing, and endless press?

The next day, I pop some painkillers, wrap myself up as best I can, and board the plane. But it’s not the relief that comes home with me. It’s the rage.

“I thought Ryan was going to pick me up,” I tell Trina as she tries to play Tetris with my suitcase and the boxes of books she has in her trunk.

“He’s at the JMP offices waiting for us.” She flattens her bright red lips. With a grunt and a shove, the suitcase finally slides in. “We’ve got news.”

“Yeah, I heard.” I get in the passenger side and try to swallow my disappointment at not having Ryan here as Trina jogs around to drive. I had hoped for at least a few minutes with him before this meeting Trina had scheduled. Though maybe it’s for the best. I wouldn’t have been able to tell him anything in a short car ride.