“Have you told anyone else?” Will asked. He finally set her down, but didn’t let go of her. Taking both her hands in his, he swung them, looking down at her belly. “We have to call your mother. And mine, too.”
Will’s parents and three brothers, as well as Randi, all lived in Shelter Valley.
She didn’t think they should call anyone.
She wouldn’t even have told Randi if she’d had any other choice, if she’d been capable of pulling herself together without help.
Will frowned. Their clasped hands lay still against their thighs. “You aren’t with me here,” he said. “What’s wrong, Becca? Is…is there something wrong with the baby?”
Becca shook her head. “We’re forty-two years old, Will,” she said softly, looking up at him through teary eyes as she attempted, gently, to help him along. “The risk of birth defects is so much higher now, at my age—it’s scary.” She shook her head. “And we’re far too old to be coping with midnight feedings and chasing a toddler around the house.”
“We’ll manage,” he said just as gently, his voice coaxing. “Others have done it.”
Pointing at the glass walls surrounding them, Becca tried again. “This house isn’t meant for a child, Will. It’s accidents waiting to happen. And our careers aren’t conducive to child-rearing, either. We’re out late more nights than not.”
“The house can be made baby-proof, Bec. We just never had reason to worry about it before now. And if it can’t, we’ll move. A house is a small thing.”
“And is your job or mine a small thing? The dean of a top university unable to meet his social obligations because he was home changing diapers?”
Will frowned. “You’re looking for problems, Becca,” he said. “Sure, we’re going to have adjustments to make, and no, it’s not all going to be easy, but certainly our baby will be worth every effort.”
Becca wished he wouldn’t make this so hard. Wished he wouldn’t give her even a glimmer of hope when she knew deep inside that there was none at all.
“The doctor’s concerned about my blood pressure. It’s too high.”
“We’ll watch it closely,” he said, nodding.
If only it was that easy.
“There’s the risk of a weak placenta, which could not only cause me to lose the child but would then probably lead to hemorrhaging, as well, which puts my life further at risk.”
His jaw tight, Will dropped her hands.
“And like I said, the chance of birth defects in pregnancies over forty is much higher, and for a first pregnancy all the risks multiply.” This, she thought, was perhaps the most compelling argument of all. The greatest fear.
The words came pouring out of her, almost verbatim from her telephone conversation with Dr. Hall. Becca wished for a return of the numbness she’d felt during her meeting with the doctor. It was far preferable to the weight of depression pulling her down now.
“I could develop kidney or bladder problems, and chances of a severe hormonal imbalance are greater.”
Will’s expression
was impassive.
“All that aside, how fair is it to bring a child into the world whose parents will be retiring before he starts college?”
“Do we have any other choice?” he asked, but the question was clearly rhetorical.
Muscles in his jaw worked. Nothing else about him moved.
Swallowing, Becca knew that a day she’d thought couldn’t get any worse just had.
“Dr. Hall says that I’m high-risk, Will. She assumes we’re going to terminate the pregnancy.”
The words sounded worse out loud than they did in her head. Worse in her own home than they had in Randi’s.
“Did you tell her that?” His eyes were like stones, flat and hard.
“Of course not! I didn’t do anything but listen. This was all her idea.” Which made it so much worse. A medical professional had just told her she shouldn’t give birth to her baby.