The Road So Far

[September 2013 - 5 Months Pregnant - Bunker Kitchen - Satisfying pregnancy cravings]

I was standing in the kitchen the first time I felt it. A sharp, stabbing pain deep in my abdomen. It came on quick and was gone just as fast. My knuckles gripped the edge of the counter, white and shaking. The bell peppers I’d been slicing lay neglected on the cutting board. No other pain followed. As I let my breath out slowly, Dean walked in with a bag of groceries. Well, his version of groceries.

“I got all the classics: chips, pretzels, peanut butter, and,” he turned to me with a sly smile, “every pregnant lady’s favorite combo, pickles and ice cream.”

One look at my face was enough to register something was off. I didn’t have time to play it off. He looked from my face to my death grip on the counter.

“Kate, what’s the matter?”

“I, I don’t know. I just got this sharp pain and—“

Suddenly I felt a gush, like standing up on my period, and I could feel a dampness seeping through my pants.

“Kate?”

Dean crossed the kitchen and started to check me over. He felt my wrist with one hand and my forehead with the other.

“You don’t feel like you have a temperature, but your pulse is racing. How about you lie down for a few minutes?”

I shook my head, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

He swallowed and bit his lip, but he knew better than to argue with a pregnant woman who needed to pee.

“Ok, bathroom then bed?”

“Deal.”

Dean held himself together the whole way to the bathroom. He kept his face neutral and his hand steady on the small of my back. Ever the strong soldier. As soon as the door closed behind me though, I heard the heavy soles of his boots pacing the floor.

I pulled my jeans to my ankles and sat down to evaluate the situation. Sure enough, there was blood all over my underwear and soaking through to my jeans. Bright red blood, like Day Two of my period, not like the old brown stuff from Day Five.

After I cleaned up as best I could, I stood and was about to zip my jeans when I noticed it. A black line across my stomach. Moving to the mirror for a better look, I lifted my shirt and gasped. A series of inky lines crisscrossed my skin below my waist. They didn’t pulse, which was good because I might have thrown up if they did, but they were warmer than the skin around them. I didn’t need Sam to check the online mommy forums, this wasn’t a normal pregnancy symptom. This was something…else.

“Are you ok?” Dean asked, the tone of his voice rising in parallel with his anxiety.

He must have heard me gasp. I zipped my jeans then ran the water to wash my hands.

“I’m spotting,” I called, trying to keep my own voice even, “it’s normal this early but I need to change my pants.”

Dean straightened up the second the bathroom door opened. I pretended I hadn’t caught him in the middle of wearing a hole in the floor.

“You have spots?”

It was my turn to smile.

“No, spotting is bleeding but like, I dunno, spots of it.”

That explanation didn’t help. Color drained from his face and he put his hands on my shoulders.

“You’re bleeding? How much? Can we do something? Do you need a tampon? Are you losing the baby? We have to get you into bed.”

This was exactly why I didn’t mention the black veins. Normal pregnancy stuff already freaked him out, demonic pregnancy stuff would send him into a tail-spin of anxiety and his over-protection would kick into overdrive.

“Hey,” I put my hands to his face, “take a breath. I’m bleeding a normal, expected amount for this stage of pregnancy. It doesn’t mean I’m miscarrying. I don’t know about tampons, we can Google that after I have some clean clothes on.”

It turned out that tampons are a no-go for spotting during pregnancy, but clean and comfy sweats are a must-have. I sighed as I leaned back against a stack of pillows, no more pain so far, maybe my jeans were finally just a little too tight.

“Hey, this says you might taste metal,” Dean said, reading from one of several pregnancy books I’d stashed on my nightstand. “Do you taste metal?”

“Now that you mention it…”

He swung his head around to look at me. I met his gaze.

“Trust I seek and I find in you, Every day for us something new. Open mind for a different view, And nothing else matters.”

“Very funny.”

“I thought so.”

Before he had a chance to reply, we heard footsteps in the hall and a knock sounded on my door.

“Kate? I’ve got something you might want to try.”

“Come on in, Jody.”

She entered with a small box in her hand.

“Oh good, Dean, you’ll like this. And you’re already in bed, perfect.”

“What have you got?” I asked.

Jody handed me the box and Dean looked over at the picture on the front.

“It looks like a Fisher Price tape recorder with a microphone,” he said.

“Well, it is related to sound, it’s a fetal Doppler. Kate, can you lean back and lift your shirt for me?”

I gave her the box back and lifted my shirt, tucking it under my bra, careful not to let the waistband of my pants reveal the black veins. No reason to get anybody else worried just yet. Jody deftly opened the box, pulled out a small tube and squirted some cold gel on my stomach.

“Ah! That’s freezing!”

“Sorry, I forgot, I’ll warm it up next time.”

Jody flipped the Doppler on and put the small wand against my skin. The handheld part of the device made a scratching sound as she moved the wand around. Dean cocked an eyebrow and looked at me. I put a finger to my lips so he wouldn’t say anything while Jody listened intently.

“Almost got it..there!”

The room filled with a steady whooshing sound coming from the Doppler.

“120, exactly where it should be,” said Jody, smiling.

“Exactly where what should be?” Dean asked.

“The sound you’re hearing is your baby’s heartbeat. It’s 120 beats per minute and it sounds perfect.”

Dean blinked and then just sat motionless. A light breeze would have blown him over.

Instead, I reached out and took his hand in mine. My touch seemed to bring him back to reality. He squeezed my hand, mustering up a small smile to go with it.

Our baby’s heartbeat.

Jody left to give us a few minutes alone. After I wiped my stomach down with a towel from my hamper, I looked over at Dean. He still hadn’t moved from his previous position. Those green eyes looked like they were a million miles away.

“Dean,” I reached out my hand again, “can you say something? Please?”

He blinked. Then he blinked again, and again, and he didn’t stop blinking. Then he was on his feet, alternating rubbing the back of his neck or his chin with his hand. It wasn’t until he started muttering under his breath that I really started to worry.

“This is insane. This is the craziest thing I’ve ever done. What do I know about being a dad? I’m gonna hand the kid a .22 before he can walk. I can’t do this, I’m just gonna screw a kid up—“

“Hey, med-rare with A1, remember?”

I stood to try and stop his pacing, but before I could take a step, another pain tore through me and I felt a gush again. My hands shot to my stomach as I doubled over with a groan. My knees buckled and I would have hit the floor if Dean hadn’t caught me in time. The warmth of his arms around me was soothing, melting the pain away almost as quickly as it had come. I leaned into his shoulder and breathed deeply. The heat from his body bled into mine, radiating down towards my stomach. Each breath cleared the pain from my memory just a little bit more. Yup, this was a totally normal pregnancy symptom. What other surprises lay in store for me?

“Kate?” Dean’s voice was so quiet I barely heard it, that worried me more than the pacing.

“I’m ok, I think. Good thing I put that pad on or I’d need more clean underwear.”

“Do you want help getting into bed?”

He asked first. He didn’t assume.

“Yes,” I said as I wrapped my arms around his for support.

After I sat back against the headboard, I patted the spot next to me and Dean gladly took the offer. I leaned my head against his shoulder and he gently kissed the top of my head.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“For what?”

“Trying. Oh!”

I felt a familiar fluttering and quickly pulled his hand to my stomach. I’d been trying for weeks to have him feel the baby with no success. Maybe now I was far enough along. The fluttering stopped as soon as I moved, but I held my breath and kept his hand on the spot where I’d felt it. Heat radiated from his hand into my belly. A second later, the fluttering came back. Stronger. More insistent.

“Whoa, is that the baby?” he asked.

I smiled, “Yes, he’s saying ‘hi daddy.’”

Dean swiped a hand across his eyes.

“Someone is cutting some strong onions,” he joked.

“Sorry, I had a craving for raw onions last night.”

We sat there together for a long moment, a family of three.