Page 57 of Grounds for Love

“So, you don’t recommend the amnio?” Rod asks and I stare at him. He’s been hitting the medical books again.

Dr. Ellison smiles and patiently explains, “No, I don’t. Because of your age, you’re considered high risk, but you’re healthy, you’re not overweight, and you have no preexisting conditions. Plus, there are risks to doing an amniocentesis.”

“Risks?” Rod asks.

Anxiety over the word “risks” causes goosebumps to form on my skin.

Doctor Ellison nods. “Yes, serious risks, the biggest being pre-term labor. Let me reassure you that I have studied your case thoroughly and all things considered, my medical recommendation is that you don’t have anything to worry about. Of course, you’re more than welcome to get a second opinion.”

Rod opens his mouth and I jump in. “No, that won’t be necessary.”

I glare at Rod and he finally relents. “We’ll go with your recommendation, Doctor.”

“Wonderful.” She flips the folder closed and asks, “Now do you have any questions?”

From his past history, I know Rod is worried about the baby. I ask, more for Rod than for me, “Doctor Ellison, could you go over again the restrictions I have?”

She grins, obviously picking up on the nervous father-to-be. “You have the list of foods to avoid. Exercise is fine as long as it’s something you’re already conditioned to do. For example, if you’ve never lifted weights, don’t start now. Avoid anything that might involve pressure or weight to your stomach. And I mean more than what you would experience during marital relations. The baby is well protected. And…”

She pauses and bites her lip. I know what’s coming and I know she’s trying not to laugh. “As I replied to your email, blunt force trauma to the head, or any part of the baby, isn’t possible, no matter the size of the penis. Nor can the baby actually see at this stage.”

I bite my own lips and glance over at a sullen Rod.

The doctor smiles professionally and patiently. “Statistically it’s been proven that sex during pregnancy is a good thing. Any type of sex. Think of it this way. To the baby, an orgasm is like a massage. Plus it makes for a much happier pregnancy for the mother.”

“Yay,” I say and raise my hands in a cheer. One glance at Rod shows he’s not as convinced.

“Enjoy your pregnancy, Jennifer. Your body will tell you what you can do. If it feels good, do it. There’s no need to be cocooned in bubble wrap.”

Doctor Ellison and I share a conspirator’s smile. She gets me. She’s probably answered the same question hundreds of times from overprotective baby daddies.

I just hope it eases some of Rod’s stress.

A month later, Joy and I are on the mainland shopping for maternity clothes. I’ve been wearing Rod’s shirts and a pair of leggings since my tops stopped fitting and I couldn’t zip my pants anymore, but even those are becoming uncomfortable.

We went in three shops and I was able to get a few decent pairs of pants and jeans and tops that will expand along with my belly. And I splurged on a winter coat that I can button and zip. Mine was getting to where it only kept my arms warm because my stomach didn’t allow it to close.

Joy stops in front of an Italian restaurant and asks, “How does pizza sound?”

“Delicious,” I call over my shoulder as I push the door open. “Can we get mushrooms and green olives?”

Joy grimaces. “If we have to.”

I laugh. I’ve had such strange cravings. Normally I hate green olives, but I’ve been eating them by the jarful lately.

We’re seated immediately and put our order in.

“How are things going with Rod?” Joy asks.

“Good. He’s cut back on his schedule, even with bringing on more ferries. We’re adjusting to living together. I don’t complain when he asks, texts, or calls me a hundred times a day to see if I’m okay, if I’m drinking plenty of water, did I have lunch, or if I’m staying off my feet as much as possible. He doesn’t say anything about me bumping down the heat because I am constantly hot these days. And he doesn’t say anything when he finds an empty container of ice cream in the freezer with the spoon still in it. Pregnancy brain is real.”

The further along I’m getting, his stress level grows. I swear he keeps a chart of what I eat and how much I drink. I’ve even caught him watching me when I sleep. I’m no longer allowed to walk on the beach by myself because I might fall. I know where his worry is coming from, though, and I’m trying to be patient. At least I have sex back. I don’t know what I would do if he still treated me like a china doll. I probably would have invested in a new vibrator since I want sex all the time now.

“He’s just worried about you, Jen. I think it’s romantic. I’m going to say something and I don’t want this to upset you, okay?”

I frown. “That’s the way to start a conversation that is sure to upset me.”

“Do you love Rod?” she asks.

---