A Life More Complete

---Chapter 23---

I sit down on the edge of my bed and whisper the results out loud, “I’m pregnant.” My mind immediately comes to my mother and her hatred for her children. She hated me from the time of conception and this thought brings tears to my eyes. Although this news is by far shocking, it’s not the worst thing that could happen to me. I have a good job, yes, I hate it, but at least have one. I have health insurance and a home, a 401k and great friends and my sisters, which is more than some can say. I’m going to be all right.

I put my hands on my belly while the tears run down my cheeks. “Little peanut-sized baby, I will love you no matter what. I know we haven’t had the best start, but trust me I will make it up to you.” My voice comes out in a hushed whisper.

The first phone call I make is to Gia. She answers on the first ring and I can hear the kids in the background. I hear Gianna singing and Nico telling her to be quiet. Liam is babbling and Gia is laughing as I hear her voice, “Hello?”

“Gia? Hi, It’s Krissy.”

“I know who it is. Why would you tell me that?” she laughs and I begin to cry. “Krissy, what’s wrong? What’s the matter? Why are you crying? Shit, say something!” she shouts into the phone.

“I’m pregnant,” I blurt out. The way I planned this in my head was much smoother. I imagined I would tell her and she would squeal and we would giggle and it would be wonderful. I’m not sure whose life I am leading in my head. It not so much that I’m upset that I’m pregnant I feel like this pregnancy is a sign that I should have this baby. Accidental or not, everything happens for a reason. It’s more about the fact that I’m about to do this alone—at least I think I am.

“Are you f*cking kidding me?” Gia shouts.

“Do I sound like I’m joking,” I ask through ragged sobs.

“Holy shit! Does Tyler know?”

“No and I’m not sure what to say to him. I just...” My thoughts are so jumbled up. I’m having a hard time forming a coherent thought.

“Are you planning to have a baby out of wedlock? You’re not married! This is un-f*cking-believable!”

“Stop shouting at me!” I yell back at her. “You shouting at me isn’t helping and by the way who uses the word wedlock anymore? What are you ninety?”

“I’m sorry,” she says as she calms down. “My Catholic upbringing kicked in and I became my mother for a second.” Gia mentioning her mother sends me back into a crying tail spin again. Her mother is the one person I couldn’t bear to think about. She was always so kind to me. She treated me like her own and this news would bring a world of shame down on me in her eyes, a devout Catholic and all around genuinely wonderful person. Gia’s family was the only normal family I knew and her mother tried hard to instill the same morals and values in me that she did in Gia. Mrs. DeRossi goes to church every Wednesday and Sunday. She lights candles and carries a rosary with her everywhere she goes. I’ve heard her say more Hail Marys and Glory Be to the Father than I can count. I remember her response when an eight year old me told her that I didn’t go to church, “Oh dear,” was all she could say.

“Have you thought about what you want to do?” Gia asks this time more composed and less judgmental.

“I’m keeping the baby and please whatever you do, don’t mention your mother again or I’ll start to cry.”

“Okay, sorry. Let me put the kids in the house and find David so he can take over. Sorry again about how I reacted. You’re right I shouldn’t be yelling at you. This isn’t a big deal. Honestly, worse things could happen than this.” She doesn’t sound as self-assured when she says that last statement.

After a few seconds she returns and the background noise is gone. Gia apologizes again and I tell her to stop. She falls silent for a few minutes and I know she’s crying. I hear her sniffle and I lose it again. This time I’m blubbering and snot is running from my nose. I can barely catch my breath and the more my crying intensifies so does Gia’s. I pull the sleeve of my sweater over my hand and wipe at my runny nose, swiping under my eyes, yet none of it makes a difference. I’m a hot mess.

When the two of us finally calm down, Gia tells me she’s coming because not even two thousand miles can keep her from me.

“David’s working on it right now,” she says.

“No, Gia. It’s okay. Really, I’m fine. It’ll take a little while for the news to settle in but it’s gonna be fine. I’m fine.” I feel like in the process of reassuring her I’m trying to convince myself, too. Each time the word “fine” leaves my mouth I cringe. It’s such a vague description, so many meanings, too many levels, but I use it because words fail me. And I’m not sure I even believe it.

“If you say so. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but finding out isn’t the hard part. You’re gonna need me once you drop this bomb on Tyler.”

“Oh believe me I know. I figure if I set my expectations low and when I say low, I mean nonexistent, I won’t be let down. It can only go up from here, right?”

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it. Either way, you have to tell him.” She hesitates and says something I didn’t see coming. “Maybe we should give him the benefit of the doubt? Just because you broke up doesn’t necessarily mean he doesn’t want the baby.”

“Maybe...” is all I can say.

Before I hang up with Gia she convinces me that I need to call Tyler. She tells me not to mention that I already told her. He just might be insulted that someone else knows he’s going to be a dad before he does. I agree with her, but when I hit end on my phone I can’t bring myself to do it. I’m terrified of his response.

I pick up my phone at least a dozen times and scroll through my contacts list, even at one point pressing his number but hanging up too quickly for it to ring. I finally decide to call my sisters in hopes that they have some more insight, but really I’m just procrastinating.

I rehearse the speech in my head numerous times and I dial. I reach Rachel first and even though I have a really kick ass speech prepared I go for the same ‘blurt out and cry method’ I used on Gia. Our conversation is very similar to Gia’s. It’s almost eerie how similar. Rachel overreacts making me cry harder, and then she goes into apology mode, which later turns to what I view as pity, even though she assures me that pity is not part of her emotional system. And after being raised by our mother, I believe it. We decide to meet halfway for lunch tomorrow.

Next is Maizey and she too gets the ‘blurt and cry’. You’d think I’d be getting better at this, but I’m still a blubbering fool. Maizey is nothing like Rachel. She immediately bursts into tears, crying so hard I can hear her husband in the background yelling at her until she confesses my news. Once we’ve both settled down, she giggles at the fact that I just might have a little belly when she sees me at the end of May. I smile at her words.

The blurt and cry method is still in full effect when I call Melinda and Bob later on that evening, but by the time I work up the courage to call Tyler I’ve pulled myself together. I put it off for so long now and the day has been so emotionally draining that it feels like a lifetime ago that I was standing in the bathroom reading the little sticks.

I sit down on the edge of the couch with my phone in hand. My thoughts swirl obsessively stopping first on why I shouldn’t call Tyler, then on why I should and finally stalling out on why my body was suddenly craving the Baconator from Wendy’s. Do pregnancy cravings really start this early or was my little peanut already on board with my procrastination habits?

After lingering on the thought of the Baconator far too long, I finally call Tyler. He doesn’t answer which isn’t surprising. I can’t say I would if his name showed up on my phone. I leave him a brief message asking him to call me when he gets a chance. I try to keep my voice as even as possible hoping my message doesn’t come across as desperate or worse...pregnant.

Emotionally and physically exhausted, I finally retreat to the comfort of my bed. As my eyes grow heavy and begin to close, my phone vibrates on my nightstand and somewhere between sleeping and waking I dream it’s the sound of my baby’s heartbeat. When it disappears my eyes grow weary and fall heavily closed again only to be jolted awake by the same sound. After several long vibrations I realize it’s my phone, leaning over the caller ID alerts me to the one phone call I have been dreading.

Tyler’s name pops up on the screen and before I answer I try to prepare the perfect thing to say, but my body and my brain are working against each other. I am physically unable to handle all the emotions as my hands begin to tremble. The phone vibrates in my hand for a fourth time and I know I only have so much time before it will end.

“Hello?” I say, my voice unable to hide its shakiness and unease.

Tyler sounds sleepy and when I look at the clock I notice it is after midnight. Since our paths haven’t crossed and we haven’t made any attempt to speak to each other I realize I have no idea where he could be. For all I know he’s in Chicago and I left him a voicemail that jarred him awake at some ungodly hour.

“Krissy? You okay?” he asks, his voice hoarse as if he’s been sleeping.

And damn my emotional self because as soon as he asks I begin to weep like a baby again. How do you possibly segue into the conversation that is about to change someone’s life forever? Which is exactly why I went with ‘the blurt and cry method’ with everyone else I told. I cover the phone with my hand to hide the sniffling that is taking over. When I’m unable to formulate any type of words after several seconds, he asks again.

“Seriously Krissy, are you alright? You call me after midnight and leave some ambiguous message. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Tears fall, soaking my pillow as I finally find my words. “No, not really. But I will be. I have to tell you something and I’m sorry that I’m doing this over the phone. This is not how I wanted this to be...”

Interrupting me, his tone is clipped and I can tell he’s losing patience with my ramblings. “What? I’m really tired and I wouldn’t have called you back but your message was strange.”

“Ty, I’m pregnant.” The line is completely silent. “Ty?” I question, checking to make sure he didn’t hang up.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

My hands begin to shake even more than I ever thought possible and my jaw is clenched so tightly I know I’ll wake up with a headache tomorrow. I figured he wouldn’t have much to say, but I really never expected complete silence. The only thing I can hear through the phone is the sound of my own whimpering. My overwhelming need to fill the silence takes over.

“I never meant for this to happen and to be honest with you I don’t even know how it happened. We were always careful and my period is never late, so I took a pregnancy test, well actually I took three like six hours ago and well...” I’m rambling so badly now I’m even embarrassing myself, but I can’t stop. “Obviously the tests were positive, well I think they were all positive one was rather complicated, so I don’t actually know, but the other two...”

“Stop. Please stop for just a second,” he interrupts.

“Okay,” I mumble softly. He stays quiet again for too long and I can’t help myself. “This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. I even debated about not calling you. I’ve decided to keep the baby. That decision was far easier than what I’m doing right now.”

“You debated not calling me?” The tone in his voice makes me feel stupid. “And then what? Were you going to go on and have the baby and act like I didn’t even exist?”

“No, I guess not. I never even thought that far ahead. I don’t know what I was thinking. This is new for me too.” I wipe my face across the pillow to dry away the tears. Tyler blows out a long breath of air and waits again before speaking.

“I’m in Chicago. I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon. Why don’t we talk about it then? I’ll come by after I get in.” His voice is stern, but not as harsh as the beginning of our conversation.

“I’m sorry,” I say out of habit. What I can’t tell him is that I want him here with me right now. I need him to hold me in his arms and tell me everything is going to okay.

“It’s okay, Krissy. It’s going to be fine. Thank you for calling. I’ll text you before I come tomorrow.”

The small bit of reassurance I get from him makes my stomach tense and the tears begin to flow again. And all I can think is maybe he does care.

“Okay. I’m not going to work tomorrow, so I’ll be home all day. Just come by.” I don’t want to hang up. Just hearing his voice and the small inkling of support makes me want to beg him to take me back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye, Krissy.” He hangs up before I can say another word. I curl up in my bed and cry myself to sleep. The combination of guilt, mixed with missing him and the struggle to find happiness amongst the mess of sadness is hard to bear, in addition to my hormone ravaged body that is still craving that damn Baconator or at least a Double-Double with cheese.