Oh God. “Inside you?”

“Yeah. That’s generally where they go.”

I didn’t see them put that in her. “Why?”

“I can’t get up to the bathroom and I think you can imagine why a bedpan isn’t going to work.”

“Oh, L. I’m so sorry you’re the one going through all of this.” I would do it for her in a second.

“I can do anything I need to for our baby. I’ll forget all about this little bit of discomfort when they place him in my arms.”

I lean down to kiss her forehead. “Her.”

I help L with repositioning before going out into the hallway to phone my parents. I’m not sure I’ve ever dreaded a call so much in my life. Mum is going to be devastated.

We do our normal greeting but then the part comes where I have to tell her why I’m calling. I start at the beginning, careful to not leave out any details, and I can hear her crying before I even get to the part about the cerclage. “Listen, Mum. The doctor is optimistic that the membranes will go back inside so she can stitch the cervix closed. There’s hope.”

“How is Laurelyn handling this?”

“She’s okay—willing to do whatever it takes to keep this baby inside for as long as possible.”

“I’m packing a bag as we speak. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

This is going to be a long road per Dr. Sommersby. “You don’t have to come now, Mum. There’s nothing you’ll be able to do except sit in an uncomfortable chair and look at Laurelyn while she slowly slides toward the head of the bed.”

“Then that’s what my job will be—not staying four hours away.”

I hang up and prepare myself for the other call I have to make to Jolie Prescott. I still haven’t forgiven her for making Laurelyn cry, telling her she had made a stupid mistake by becoming pregnant. L didn’t tell me so but I wonder in the back of my mind if her mum might have encouraged her to have an abortion. If she did, she’s smart for not telling me. I don’t think I could ever forgive her for such a thing.

“Jolie, it’s Jack. Laurelyn asked me to call you because something has happened.”

“Is she okay?”

“She is but there’s been a complication with the baby and she’s in the hospital.”

“Is she having a miscarriage?” Her voice sounds a little too hopeful.

“She could lose the baby but the doctor is doing everything possible to prevent it.”

“I need to talk to Laurelyn because I have some great news. Jake and I are getting married.”

All I see is red. What a bitch. She finds out her daughter is in the hospital fighting to save the life of her grandchild and her response is to tell Laurelyn about her happy news. Un-fucking-believable! Perhaps she’s mentally ill on some level. No sane person would be so indifferent to their child.

“She’s asleep,” I lie. I won’t allow her to upset Laurelyn. “I’ll have her call when she wakes.” Or maybe I won’t. I’m not sure speaking to her mum is beneficial right now. I think it could cause a lot more harm than good.

23

I didn’t sleep much last night. Even after I was given a sleeping pill, I only dosed in intervals. I don’t think Jack Henry nodded off once all night, although I repeatedly asked him to try and get some sleep. The nurse showed him how to turn the chair into a bed but he refuses, and each time I open my eyes or move, he slides to the edge of his seat and asks me if I’m okay. He’s like a guard dog watching over me and our baby.

I brush my teeth and Jack Henry helps me wash up. “Did you tell Margaret they’re doing an ultrasound this morning?”

He’s standing at my bedside wearing his cotton sleep pants and a T-shirt, rubbing his scruff. He has a case of bed head, although he never slept, and he couldn’t look more adorable. “Yeah. She wants to stay and watch if it’s okay with you.”

Of course, it’s fine by me. “I don’t mind. I’d love for her to see the baby.”

“She’ll be really happy about that. She never got to be with Em when they did any of hers.”

I’m almost afraid to ask about my mom but I need to. “You never mentioned it, but did you talk to my mom?”

“I did.”

“What did she say?”

He looks like he’s thinking up something to say. “I told her what was happening and that we were going to do everything possible to save the baby.”

“What did she say about that?”

“She asked if you were miscarrying and then told me she wanted to talk to you because she had good news. She and your dad are getting married.” He looks like he’s angry. “I didn’t think her timing was appropriate, so I told her you were asleep and would call her later.”

Asking about the miscarriage without any concern for me or the baby and then jumping straight into her good news … that hurts. But it’s just like my mom. I don’t get the disconnect there. I haven’t even laid eyes on this baby yet and I already know I’ll put his happiness ahead of my own. That’s what a real mother does.

She’s hoping I’ll lose the baby because she thinks I should be pursuing my career instead of a family. This is a problem for me and I’m not sure she’ll continue to hold a place in my life if she’s going to wish my child away. “She probably won’t call to check on us but if she does, tell her the nurse is with me and I can’t talk.” I can’t handle her right now.

Margaret arrives only moments before Dr. Sommersby comes into the room for my scan. “Is it okay if my mother-in-law stays?”

“That’s fine with me if it’s all right with you.”

I look at Margaret and she’s wearing a huge grin. That’s how a grandmother should be, ecstatic about seeing her grandchild, not wishing it away. “Yes. I would very much like her to be here.”

The ultrasound procedure is the same as yesterday—lots of measuring and documenting—but Dr. Sommersby is nice enough to show Margaret some great close-ups of the baby. She agrees with me—that the baby looks like Jack Henry—but in the end there’s no change in the membranes, so we’ll continue doing what we did yesterday. I’ll continue to lie with my head down and we’ll check for improvement tomorrow.

Day four. I didn’t think I’d become sick of this so quickly but I am. I don’t want to stay here any longer. I want to be home at Avalon. I cried like a baby after Jack Henry finally went to sleep last night because I didn’t want him to see me. I’ve been holding it in, putting on a tough exterior, because I don’t want him or Margaret to see my weakness and mistake it for selfishness.