Keep the Baby, Mom

My mother-in-law got pregnant at fifty-nine.

She had type 2 diabetes and high blood pressure, and I was terrified for her. So I sat her down, held her hand and walked her through every way this pregnancy could kill her. A week later, she ended it.

What I never saw coming was that my husband would die in a car crash before the year was out. Or that his parents would try everything to have another baby and never get pregnant again.

So they blamed me. As far as they were concerned, I was the reason the Hollis name was going to die with them.

And they put weed killer in my water glass.

The ER doctor said a word I'd never heard before: paraquat. It took weeks. My kidneys failed, then my liver. My lungs slowly turned to scar tissue, and by the end I was wide awake, fighting for every breath until there was nothing left to fight with.

Then I opened my eyes, and I was back at the kitchen table on the night my mother-in-law told us she was pregnant.

This time, I already knew what I was going to say.

Nobody at the table looked happy about it.

My father-in-law, Earl, kept turning his coffee mug in slow circles. My mother-in-law, Bonnie, wouldn't look up from the fruit bowl. Beside me, my husband, Grant, had on the stiff, polite smile he saved for telemarketers.

Grant and I had been living with his parents for eight months while our new house was being built. Just till it's done, he'd said. Think how much we'll save.

Earl cleared his throat. "So. Your mom and I wanted to run this by you two first. Keep it, don't keep it, we'll go along with whatever you decide."

"Whatever you think is best," Bonnie added quickly. "We won't fight you on it."

That's what they said, anyway.

But if they really didn't want this baby, Bonnie would have booked an appointment and told us afterward. Nobody calls a family meeting to vote on something they've already decided against.

Besides, a woman her age turning up pregnant? They knew exactly how that would look to the neighbors. They wanted someone else to make the call, so they'd have someone to blame.

Too bad I didn't see through it in my last life. Back then, all I could think about was her health. I listed the risks on my fingers one by one. Preeclampsia. Stroke. Her diabetes spiraling out of control. Birth defects.

I meant every word of it. In the end, I scared her into giving up the baby.

They never forgave me for it.

Grant nudged my foot under the table. "Babe? What do you think?"

What did I think?

Same as last time, of course. I held up my hand and started counting on my fingers.

"Janet Jackson had her son at fifty," I said. "Halle Berry was forty-seven. And remember that story on the news a while back? The woman in her sixties who had twins?"

Bonnie's whole face lit up. "Yes! I saw that one. Those twins are in school now."

"I remember that too," Earl said, sitting up straighter.

I smiled. "Then I'll say it first. I'm all for it, a hundred percent. Keep the baby, Mom." I reached over and squeezed her hand. "And once it's here, you just sleep. I've got the night feedings."

All three of them stared at me like I'd grown a second head.

Earl and Bonnie said they needed to sleep on it. Thirty seconds later, they were arguing over whether Earl Junior sounded too old-fashioned.

Grant laughed right along with them. But the second our bedroom door shut, the smile dropped off his face.

"You actually want them to go through with this?" he said. "Mom's fifty-nine. When that kid starts high school, she'll be seventy-three. Who do you think ends up paying for braces? Car insurance? College?" He jabbed a finger at his own chest. "Us, that's who."

"And we're supposed to have kids of our own someday. Do you know what daycare costs now?"

I looked at him, surprised. "If you're against it, why didn't you say something at the table?"

That shut him up for a second.

"I'm not against it," he said. "I just... people are going to talk. My parents having a baby at their age? It's embarrassing."

"Your parents are healthy," I said calmly. "I bet they've got another twenty years in them. They've got Dad's pension, Social Security and money in the bank. One baby isn't going to bankrupt them."

"And people can say whatever they want. They're not the ones paying the bills."

Grant rolled his eyes. "It's not that simple."

"Then go tell them no yourself. I'm not stopping you."

I climbed into bed, turned my back to him and shut my eyes.

That was Grant for you. He loved being the good guy, so he never said no to anything. He just got somebody else to say it for him, then stood off to the side looking sad and reasonable while they took the heat.

Last time, that somebody was me.

Not that it mattered now. In a few weeks he'd be dead, and I wasn't going to waste my energy on a dead man.

The only real risk left was the doctors.

Bonnie was fifty-nine, diabetic and on blood pressure meds. Any OB would sit her down and spell out exactly how this could kill her. So how did I make sure she kept the baby even after she'd heard every word? I needed something that scared her more than dying.

I lay there turning it over in the dark until the mattress dipped and Grant got into bed behind me.

That was when it hit me.

How had I not thought of it sooner? Grant was the perfect excuse.

The next morning, I called in sick and drove across town to a private women's health clinic. I paid out of pocket for every test they had, plus the rush fee, so the results would be ready that afternoon.

I made it home before Grant got off work and found Earl and Bonnie in the living room.

"Mom, Dad? Can I talk to you about something?"

I sat down and set a folder on the coffee table.

"All this baby talk got me thinking. Grant and I have been married over two years, and I've never gotten pregnant. So today I finally went and got checked out."

I spread the pages across the table. Ultrasounds, bloodwork, hormone levels, all printed on clinic letterhead.

"The doctor said everything's normal. My ovaries, my uterus, all of it." I let my voice shake. "And if it's not me..."

I looked up at them.

"Then it's Grant."