Page 52 of Forever Christmas
Chapter 19: Corabelle
I swear my morning sickness just gets worse as I enter the second trimester. Most women find it’s easier, but I’m don’t. The next doctor visit goes fine. The Dopplers find the heartbeat perfectly.
But the sixteen-week sonogram is coming. That’s when we’ll look at the condition of the baby’s heart and find out the gender. As the date approaches,my stomach just revolts.
I can’t hold anything down.
The fall quarter has begun and I’m barely able to make classes. I haven’t worked on my thesis at all. I’m not sure I will graduate in January after all. Everything is going to hell.
I’ve avoided Professor White. I feel like I’ve thrown away all my opportunities. He went out of his way to get me a scholarship, and an adjunct job I had to turndown. And here I am, not even doing my work.
The day of my sonogram, I skip class entirely. My body is wrung out. The pills Dr. Jamison prescribed to help with the nausea have not helped much. Even if the baby doesn’t have a heart defect, it’s probably a malnourished skeleton.
Picturing this sends me on a terrible crying jag every time. I just want this to be over. Tell me the baby is dead,or will die, and just be done.
I want it done.
When Gavin comes home to take me to the appointment, I’m lying in the dark of the bedroom, still in pajamas, a wet towel over my face.
He curls up beside me. “You okay, Corabelle?”
I can’t even answer. Moving my head might jostle my stomach. I can’t throw up anything else. There’s nothing there. But the heaving is painful and brings on a debilitatingheadache.
Something fuzzy brushes my arm. It’s flat with round edges. A pillow, maybe.
I move the towel aside. It’s a rainbow butterfly, furry and soft.
“Thought we could use a little something extra today,” Gavin says.
I hug the pillow to my chest. “I love it,” I say.
“You want me to pick out some clothes for you?” he asks. “I’ll probably go for the slinky red dress.”
“I don’t think thisbelly will go in the slinky dress anymore.” I press a hand to my stomach. My hips have gotten bonier due to the sickness, but the bulge is pretty pronounced.
Gavin bends down to kiss it. “Looks perfect to me,” he says, and heads to the closet.
My head is still in all the wrong places, though, and when Gavin comes out with an outfit, it’s as if we’ve gone straight back to the day of Finn’s funeral.Gavin tried to help me find something to wear, but my belly was still all pillowed and I couldn’t find any shoes.
I wouldn’t leave then, just like now.
My belly convulses as I hold back a sob. This is never going to work.
“I don’t want to go,” I say. “I can’t bear it.”
Gavin sits next to me again. “So not knowing is easier?”
“If it’s bad,” I say.
“But what if it’s not?”
I don’t tell himthat I don’t see any way it could be good. I can’t eat. I barely sleep. Even the vitamins come back up.
There’s no way this baby is healthy. Just no way.
I roll onto my side around the pillow.
“Hey,” he says, brushing back my hair. “Let’s not think about the sonogram, okay? Just the next thing. The very next thing.”
