“And now you have Stella.”
He takes another sip of his coffee. Clears his throat. “Now I have Stella. And with her, the only remaining piece of Reese. It was definitely not what we planned, but I would never change how it happened or that I have Stella now. She’s my world. The best part of my life.”
“You made it through college. Through medical school and residency and a demanding fellowship with a baby, and then a toddler and then child. How did you do it? I mean, I know, but I wasn’t around much. I wasn’t here, so I didn’t see it.”
“I had help, Carter. I had a lot of help. I had Mom and Dad and I hired nannies and put Stella in hospital daycares. Having money helps and I knew that was the one thing I’d never have to worry about. Stella would never want for anything other than the mother she lost.”
My head bows and I feel him grow tense beside me. Landon hates talking about this, but he’s doing it for me. The love my brothers feel for me and the love I feel in return still surprises me sometimes.
He sighs, sliding the mug in his hand back and forth. “Truth, it was awful. I had just lost the love of my life and suddenly I was a single dad trying to get through medical school. I never slept. I hardly ate. But I did what I had to do, and I made it through. I thought about giving up, going into an easier specialty or leaving medicine altogether, but that’s not the father I wanted to be for Stella.”
“I don’t want Grace to have to worry. But I worry about the extra strain and stress she’ll put on herself and her body. She’s epileptic. I’m terrified of what all those hours in the hospital and being pregnant will do to her and the baby.”
“Is that what you told her?”
“No. I told her we were going to cut back her hours and surgeries. Now she’s gone and I don’t know where she is or how to fix this.”
“By shutting your mouth and trusting the woman you love. By listening when she talks and considering her and not yourself. By showing her with your actions that she can trust you and open up to you. She’s been epileptic nearly her whole life and knows what she’s doing. She doesn’t want to have seizures any more than you want her to have them.”
He’s right. I know he’s right. The problem is, I’m not thinking like a doctor. I’m thinking like a man worried about his woman. About his baby.
“A hundred says she’s with Oliver. You came to me. She goes to him. She’s smart and knows how to take care of herself. So put that part out of your head. My advice is to listen and talk, not dictate. Carter, you’re the middle child in a family of six kids. You always had to assert yourself louder than the rest of us to be heard. Had to demand things in order to get us to listen—which we still rarely did. If you were Grace, would you want someone to sweep in and command how you should not only do your job, but live your life?”
I sit back on the stool, thinking about Grace. About how stubborn and headstrong she is. Persistent.
We’re both alike in that.
Control is what we thrive on.
If I want to keep her, I must learn to trust her and vice versa. Something she won’t do if I continue to stomp around, throwing my weight and position. If I had trusted Grace, she wouldn’t have hidden anything from me because she would have trusted me in return. I told her I want her to be partners, and so far, we haven’t done a great job in that.
We’re still so new with each other.
Clearly, we have a lot to figure out.
But first, I have to convince her that things are about to change. No more bullshit. No more messing around. No more running. It’s time she learned… she’s mine.
32
I’ve successfully dodged Carter all day. After the ten-thousandth call, I texted him back, stating that I was at Oliver’s and that I needed space and time to think. I felt bad for ignoring him for as long as I did. I wasn’t trying to hurt him—I’d never want to do that. It’s just that everything feels like it’s been parachuted on top of me, and I need a minute to breathe. A moment to regroup and get control over the situation that has zero chance of being controlled.
Him telling me that we were going to have to cut back my work schedule was my breaking point. I hadn’t realized how close I was to hitting it until he dropped that on me, and I lost it completely.
I took an Uber down to Oliver’s house in Chestnut Hill—thankful I was smart enough to leave with my phone and purse this time. At my call, he turned off the alarm and unlocked the front door for me. He didn’t ask me why I was running to him in the middle of the night. He didn’t ask me what had happened with his brother. He just gave me a hug and showed me to the guest room, knowing I wasn’t ready to talk.
I spent the rest of that morning thinking things over. Deciding what I want and how I want it and how I’ll make it happen.
The bright side is my blood work came back. Everything is normal with the exception of my HCG (the hormone your body produces when it’s pregnant) level that came back over 7500.
Pregnant for sure.
I went to the hospital this morning and repeated the test to make sure those numbers increase—hopefully double—from my initial test. Now I’m here, sitting in front of my neurologist.
I still have to find an OB or midwife. I have to think about what genetic testing I want done. If I want to learn the sex. But this appointment needed to come first. I need to come up with a safe plan for this pregnancy that takes my epilepsy into consideration. I also want to know if it’s safe for me to work. If he tells me it’s not, I’ll listen.
It’ll break my heart, but the baby comes first.
“I appreciate you squeezing me in,” I tell Dr. Bates, sitting up straight in his office chair that feels more like what they electrocute people in.
“It’s my pleasure. Tell me what brought you here today. Have you had another seizure?”
“No. I’m pregnant. About six weeks along.”
“I see.” He sits back in his cushy office chair, rocking gently. “And you’re concerned about how your epilepsy will affect the pregnancy?”
“Yes. I want to know from a neuro standpoint what precautions I should take. What things I’m still safe to do.”
“Proper seizure control is the primary goal in treating pregnant women with epilepsy. That said, many of the medications we prescribe are dangerous for the growing fetus. Some interact with essential vitamins like folic acid. Psychological, hormonal, and pharmacokinetic changes in pregnancy may escalate seizure activity. But other than that break through seizure you had and taking as needed benzos, you haven’t been on regular medication in about a year.”
“I’d rather not start on anything new unless I absolutely have to.”
“No. I don’t advise it. The loading doses of those medications alone aren’t safe. Your third trimester is another issue, as I’m sure you know, but we can address that when it gets closer and see how your body is responding to the pregnancy. Honestly, your best course of treatment right now is to continue exactly what you’ve been doing these last four years. Exercise. Eat well. No alcohol or drugs, but that’s a given with your pregnancy anyway. Sleep when your body tells you it needs it and then get some extra whenever you can. Be warned, if you have any concerning symptoms, mild or severe alike, we will have to readdress this plan. I’d like to get regular EEGs. Say once a month just to confirm we’re on the right track.”