Something happened with Grace today that has worried her, though it may have helped her relationship with Con. She had a doctor’s appointment at which all was not entirely as the doctor would have liked, and so her OB-GYN asked her to return for a second test a few hours after the first. Grace was anxious, but as of yet nothing has been confirmed to be wrong, so she didn’t want to panic anyone.
“Why don’t you call Con?” I suggested to her. “He deserves to know if anyone does, and it always did help you to talk to him about your problems.”
This got a bit of resistance from the part of Grace that is still angry with Con, but she could not deny that it was true, and she did want to talk to someone.
Con picked up the phone on the first ring. “Hey, Gracie,” he said cheerfully. “How’s everything going?”
She hesitated. “Well, not so good, honestly,” she said.
Immediately the cheer was gone from Con’s voice. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is it the baby? You had a doctor’s appointment this morning, didn’t you? Did they say—”
“Everything’s okay for now, Con,” Grace said, keeping her voice level. “They just—my blood pressure was a little high, so they want me to go back in a few hours to check it again.”
Con took a deep breath, and I wondered if he was reminding himself that stress was just as bad for Grace as any physical symptoms might be. “Okay. Well, higher blood pressure could be a normal symptom, right? It could be nothing.”
“Right, of course.” The thin veneer of casualness fell away from Grace’s voice and face as she went on, “Or it could be something.”
“Gracie, it won’t help to worry until you know more.”
“But the doctor wouldn’t tell me anything else, Con,” she said, fear beginning to rise in her. I closed her in my wings, and she managed to catch her breath, but her voice still shook. “He wouldn’t say what it might mean, and I would much rather know—”
“Okay, look, it’s probably just gestational hypertension. That usually shows up in the second half of the pregnancy and goes away again after you give birth.”
Grace was too astonished to say anything. I was surprised, too.
Con sighed. “And since I know you mean it when you say you’d rather know: it could be something, you’re right. It could mean that the baby will be smaller than he should be, or that you’ll have to have a c-section. Your placenta might detach, or there’s also a thing called preeclampsia, and that’s really bad. Either one of those things might mean you’ll have to have the baby early.” He cleared his throat. “But all that is only if your blood pressure is really bad. If it’s just a little higher, then you should still be able to have a normal pregnancy. So don’t panic until the doctor tells you to, okay?”
Grace opened her mouth. “How did you know all that?”
Con laughed. “Gracie, I’ve been studying like I was back in college ever since you gave me the news. And I’ve got one of these—these little apps, that tell me how big the baby is and what we should be doing around what time. Did you know that Truman’s about the size of a coconut right now?”
A tiny laugh broke from Grace. It touched her heart that without saying anything to her, Con had gone to such effort to inform himself. “Dammit,” she said, wiping her eyes, “now I want something coconut.”
“What you want is a pina colada,” Con said with a laugh. “Why don’t I come over this evening and make us some? Although I might have to put some liquor in mine after this scare you’ve given me for no reason. Because I’m sure it’s nothing, Gracie.” He paused, and then he said it again. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Grace nodded, resting her hand on her stomach, her fingers pressing down. “Yes,” she said, “you’re probably right. For once,” she added, and they both laughed.
Then silence fell between them again, and Con broke it by saying gently, “Do you want me to come back to the doctor with you?”
Grace’s face crumpled, though Con couldn’t see it. “Yes,” she whispered.
They went together, and they were both deeply relieved when the doctor told them that Grace’s blood pressure level is not at a point that they need to worry. They will continue to monitor her, but for now little Truman is safe.
I will be monitoring her, too—Grace and Con were not the only ones who were frightened. Still, I cannot help but be glad that this has given Con a chance to prove himself, and that he did not disappoint us again. As a husband he may have failed, but as a father perhaps he will be all right. We will see.