February 21, 2001
Since flying back from Europe earlier this month, I've been unable to readjust my sleep schedule- a bad case of jet leg. I'm tired all the time, sleeping more than usual.
So it's unfortunate that the night after finally going to bed at a normal time I was up at the crack of down the morning we're suppose to leave for the Grammys with my head in a toilet, throwing up everything I ate in the past 24 hours.
Though it's already planned for Elton John to perform 'Stan' in my place with Marshall during the Grammys, showing his support against the controversy Marshall is currently enduring, I was still going to go to watch the performance and see if I win any of my own awards.
Marshall and I weren't going together as an official couple- we're still keeping our relationship private- but as two collaborating artists. Versace sent me a dress to wear, I had called my hair stylist and make up artist to meet me in LA. The tickets were bought, the hotel booked. It was all planned out.
But my plans have changed.
Marshall knocks on the bathroom door, his voice worried, "You okay in there?"
"Go away!" I wipe my mouth.
My head is pounding with a headache, making me feel lightheaded and dizzy. And I'm so nauseous, I don't know what to do with myself. I feel like I have the worst hangover of my life or something.
I hear the door handle moving, but I stop him, "Please don't come in. I don't want you to see me like this."
How incredibly unattractive would that be.
"Baby, come on. Don't be ridiculous, I don't care. Let me help-."
"No." I moan. "Go away, please. I don't even want you to hear me." I gag. "I'll be fine, just go."
"I don't wanna leave you like this." he says, "I could probably still cancel-"
"No! I'm fine. Really, it's just a bug." I sniffle. He can't cancel a Grammy performance because I don't feel good. "You go. I'll call Bree. Have a safe trip, call me when you land."
He hesitates, "A'ight I love you. Feel better baby."
I barely finish telling him I love him back when I'm puking again. I throw up until theres nothing left to throw up. My stomach is as empty as it could possibly be.
After a long nap on the bathroom floor, I open the door to find a sleeve of crackers, a glass of water, and a bottle of Pepto Bismol on the floor. I smile. Marshall had to help somehow.
After I get all three in my system, I take a shower and feel a lot better. This must be one of those 24-hour bugs. Maybe even food poisoning- I did eat take out last night. I downgrade my sickness by the second.
Marshall calls me, letting me know he landed and wondering how I'm doing. I update him, assuring him I'm fine, and tell him I'll watch his performance on TV.
When we hang up I call Bree, asking if she could pick some things up for me at the store.
The girls aren't home- they're with Marshall's family since neither of us were suppose to be here. So I'm alone in the silent house.
That is, until the guards from the gate call, telling me I have a guest here. Sarah, Murphy's wife.
"Let her in." I tell them, heading downstairs to unlock the front door.
Since I moved to Detroit, Murphy and Sarah have been in New York packing up to move too. I gave Murphy the time off. Which wasn't easy for him to do, but he's been delegating his duties to Jax and Tony.
Originally when I first moved, I tried to offer Murphy an out but he wouldn't hear it. He's the head of my security and my most trusted guard, so I'm thankful. I could never replace him. But I do feel awful for uprooting them after him and his wife, Sarah, finally settled down in New York. They've given no complaints, but still. Bree, Jax, and Tony are all single and were happy to move with me too. I love my team.
As I open the door for Sarah, I smile. They've moved into a cute house not too far away from here and I know she's here for the paint samples I told her I'd leave for her.
"I didn't know you were going to be here!" She starts happily, but one look at me and she frowns, worried, "Oh, are you sick?"
"A little. I feel so much better though. And I don't have a fever or anything." I assure her.
"I'm so sorry to drop by like this. I would have called first or-"
"It's fine, really. I told you to come by."
I let her into the house and take her to the kitchen where I left the samples on the counter. She thanks me and tells me how she can't wait to start decorating their new place.
I smile, happy to hear. She continues telling me about what she plans to do for the house and surprises me by saying, "And I'm thinking about painting the second bedroom a neutral yellow color so it can be a nursery-"
"A nursery!?" Murph and her have been trying for years to have a baby. They haven't been very vocal about it all, but Sarah has talked to me just enough that I know of their struggle. Could she finally be pregnant? "Are you-?"
"Yes!" She beams, beyond happy. But it falters a bit, unsure, "Well, I think I am. It's not official yet."
"Have you had a test?"
"No. " She gets sad suddenly, "I've taken so many tests in the last year alone, and all of them have been negative. I'm getting way ahead of myself I know. But I swear this time it'll be positive. I just have a feeling. But I'm afraid...."
She trails off and starts to cry, her shoulder heaving with each sob.
I comfort her with a hug, "Hey, it's okay."
"I know I need to take a test. I need to know. And I can't tell Murph without being sure. I just...I don't know what I'll do if it is negative again. I don't think I can go through that again."
"I understand." I tell her, then offer, "Listen, Bree is going to the store right now. Picking me up some tea and a few other things. Do you want me to call her, ask her to pick up a test too? You can take it here with me."
She hesitates but ultimately nods. Bree is speechless when I first ask for the test, but as soon as I tell her it's for Sarah she gets right to it.
Bree comes from the drug store around the corner soon after, "Who knew there were so many types of pregnancy tests. I bought the most expensive- assuming that it'll give the most accurate results. It's a two pack too, in case you want to take more than one."
"Thank you Bree." I tell her and Sarah nods in thanks too- too anxious to speak.
The test is pretty simple. Pee on stick. Wait five minutes for the results. Plus means pregnant. Minus means not pregnant. Simple.
I open the package for her- her hands too shaky to do it herself- and hand her the stick, giving her privacy in my bathroom as I wait on my bed. That stick will determine her future- baby or no baby.
"A baby!" Bree coos coming back into the room with a pepsi can in her hand. She takes a seat beside me, "Ahh I'm so excited."
"Me too." I say, hopeful. Sarah and Murph deserve this.
A few minutes pass by and finally, Sarah walks back out the door in tears.
My stomach drops, "Oh Sarah-"
"I'm pregnant!" she sobs, tears of joy now. She holds up the stick, showing a clear plus sign on it.
I wave of relief washes over me, followed by pure happiness. Bree and I wrap Sarah in a hug, crying out in celebration together. It's a beautiful moment to share.
"I- I have to go tell Murphy." She says, wiping away her tears.
"Go!" I nod, excited as I wipe away my own. She leaves, as I start to plan all the amazing gifts I'm going to buy that baby- he or she will always be spoiled by me. Bree then gets a call, leaving the room to answer it.
How exciting is this? We'll have Nicole and Dre having their baby this summer and now Sarah and Murphy will welcome one this fall. I love babies!
Alone, I clean up. On the bed is the unused test. I pick it up, a sudden intrusive thought entering my mind. Could I be-?
I have a bug. Or food poisoning, I reason. I threw up one morning. Where did that thought even come from? I'm absolutely not pregnant.
I toss the test and it's box into the bathroom trash, rolling my eyes.
This isn't the right time anyways. I can't get pregnant. I may have known Marshall for years now, and feel like I've known him my entire life, but we've only really been dating five months. That's way way too soon for even thinking this.
But now that I am thinking of it...a baby with Marshall...The thought brings so much joy to my heart.
The topic of children, or in Marshall's case more children, has never come up before. But I see how he is with Hailie and Lainey. Know how he helped raise his brother. Admire the father he is and how much he loves being one.
I always thought I'd have children one day. Motherhood always part of that dream life I envisioned for myself when I was younger.
And I want babies with Marshall, I realize. I want it so much.
Someday.
That night, Bree and I watch Marshall's performance on TV, cheering him on with every win and I push those silly thoughts out of my head for now.
<><><><><><><>
"Yo, you got anything to tell me?" Marshall asks, storming out of our bathroom, the pregnancy test box in his hand.
Great.
Marshall just got home and was about to take a shower after his long flight. Instead he found that in the trash.
"Yes." I smile, ignoring his agitation and the obvious accusation, "Sarah is pregant."
I hadn't gotten the chance to tell him yet. Not even sure if I can share the news. But I don't think I have the choice not to at the moment.
"Sarah?"
"Yeah. Murphy's wife." I remind him, "They're having a baby. She took the test here and-"
Marshall cuts me off with a kiss, catching me off guard.
He holds my face between his hands, "That's a fuckin' relief. So you're not pregnant?"
"No. I'm not pregnant." I assure him.
"Music to my fuckin' ears." he starts kissing me again, little ones peppered across my face. I giggle. "Fuck. I almost had a god damn heart attack."
"Yeah, five months together is way too soon to be having a baby." I joke.
"Any time is too soon." he chuckles, letting me go and heading back into the bathroom.
Wait...what?
But I'm not going to ask my boyfriend of five months more about babies. I'm not. I can't. I wont.
"What do you mean?" I ask, following him. The conversation has already been opened, might as well.
He turns on the shower, "I mean, I don't want anymore kids."
I can feel all my hopes dashed with just those few words.
"You don't?" I ask, eyes on his back.
I know we've never talked about kids, our own kids I mean. But he never mentioned he wanted none. I would remember that.
He shakes his head as he starts to get undressed, "Fuck no. Another kid would be a fuckin' disaster. I'm done with all that, you know. Hailie's my one and only. Well, and Lainey. She's mine too. But no fuckin' more. I can barely juggle music and those two as it is."
It would be hard but not impossible, I want to argue. I would make sure of it. In a few years, when things settle down for the both of us, we could...But no. He doesn't want more kids. I never felt so disappointed in my life.
He looks over at me, oblivious to my thoughts, "Thank fuckin' god you're on the pill."
"Yeah," I force a smile, "Thank god."
As he showers I go downstairs to start cooking dinner for Marshall and the girls, my stomach still not back to normal enough to eat a full meal myself yet. As I chop up some vegetables, I'm not sure if the tears are from the onions or what I've just learned.
When I picture the future Marshall is in it, no question. I picture marrying him. I picture babies.
What does he picture? Am I even a part of it?
Should I be building a life with a man who does not want the same things as me? Who doesn't even consider if I'd want something different than him? Would he ever change his mind?
And if not...Will everything Marshall and I have together be enough for me in a year from now? Five years? Or will I always want more?
I want to say I'd be okay with it. But honestly...I don't know.