Page 88 of The Marriage Game

“Shhh!” I hiss, glancing back at the kids. Whew. They didn’t hear him. “But yes.”

“Okay,” he says slowly. “What about…that?”

“We enjoyed…that, didn’t we?” I say, a tinge of desperation in my voice. How is he not getting this?

Max smirks at me. “Oh yes.”

“Perhaps too much,” I squeak, touching my stomach pointedly. Max swerves out of our lane. The kids and I all scream, but thankfully he recovers himself before any damage can be done. Right. Not the best choice to tell him while he was driving then.

I’m really off my game right now.

“Dad!” Elle cries. “What happened?”

“There was a cat in the road,” Max lies automatically. “Sorry.”

“Oh. Okay.” Elle accepts this easily and returns to her phone. Liam peers around like he’s searching for the cat, but then he too returns to his iPad.

“Jill,” Max says in a low voice, “are you telling me what I think you’re telling me?”

I nod, then realize his eyes are on the road. “Yes,” I whisper. “I am.”

Next thing I know we’re pulling over. “Kids,” Max says, “stay in the car. I need to talk to your mother.”

“Um, what?” Elle looks confused.

“Why can’t you talk to her in the car?” Liam asks.

“It’s private,” Max replies. “Stay in the car and you can both have an extra hour of screen time added to your daily allotment.”

He’s said the magic words. Screen time is currency in our house.

He runs around to my side of the car, and pulls me out, slamming the door shut behind me. He holds my hands gently in his, looking earnestly down at me. “Jill, you’re pregnant?”

I nod, tears glistening in my eyes. Truthfully I couldn’t say whether they’re happy tears or completely freaked out tears. Who am I kidding? They’re totally freaked out tears. Did I mention that I’m 40?

“And you think it happened on the retreat?” he presses.

“I mean, that’s the only time we haven’t used protection recently.”

“But you had just finished your period. That’s why we didn’t use protection.”

“Well. I’m old. Google said that makes my hormones and ovulation patterns wacky and unpredictable. Apparently anything can happen.”

“Wow.” Max looks stunned. His eyes drop to my stomach. “A baby.”

“A baby,” I echo tremulously. “I don’t know if I can do this, Max,” I exclaim. “I mean, we have two self-sufficient children in that car, and what? Now suddenly we’re going to have one in diapers? It’s a complete lifestyle shift. And we’ll beso oldwhen the baby graduates high school. And you know, I’m a geriatric pregnancy. There are risks. Lots of risks. Down syndrome, premature labor–just to name a few. What about my body? It still hasn’t fully bounced back from the first two pregnancies,and now I’m going to get huge again? I know it’s selfish and that there are people who try and try for babies and can’t have them, so it’s horrible that I’m not excited about this pregnancy. But I don’t know, Max! This wasn’t supposed to happen. I can’t handle this.” Words are pouring out of me in rapid-fire. Every ounce of vulnerability that I’ve been feeling since I saw that plus sign on the test is coming out of me. Outside of those few times at the retreat, I’m not sure I’ve ever been so honest about my own limitations.

So just add shame to the mix of emotions I’m feeling then. I am so weak.

“This is just not how I saw our life going,” I practically wail, sounding an awful lot like the teenager in the car. I havegotto get a grip, but the control of my life that I thought I had is slipping. I can’t hold on, not when the future has taken such a sharp and unexpected turn. But then, quite suddenly,I’mthe one being held. By Max. He’s taken me in his arms and is holding me tightly. My whole body sighs as it remembers: I am not alone.Weare not alone.

“Hey,” he says in a deep, soothing voice that I want to curl up in, “stop worrying. Yes, this is unexpected, but you are going to be fine.Weare going to be fine. Yes, we have two self-sufficient children in the car and now we’re going to have one in diapers, but the way I see it that means we have two more people who can help change said diapers. It will prepare them well for when they have to care for the two of us when we’re old and back in diapers.”

“I might have to wear adult diapers after I give birth a third time.” I say it like I’m joking, but the thought makes me start performing kegels at breakneck speed, like this can somehow make up for the fact that I haven’t done any kegels at all in about ten years.

“Sounds sexy,” Max jokes back with a wink. I choke out a laugh. His hands run up and down my back. “Now, as for how old we’ll be when this baby graduates high school, just remember, I’m five years older than you. Consider things from my point of view. You might be old, but I’ll be ancient. You’re bound to look young standing next to me at that commencement ceremony.” He raises his eyebrows, like what do you have to say to that? “What else? Right. Risks. I’m not going to address your concerns about those because worrying about what could go wrong never got anyone anywhere,” he continues on. “Whatever happens, God knows it’s coming, and He’ll be with us every step. As for your body, well, I’m not sure what you mean by it not having fully bounced back, but I certainly do like watching certain parts of your body bounce.”

“Max,” I protest weakly, even as a smile comes to my lips.

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