10. Noah

10

I'm not a pacer. At least, I never thought I was until now. I hate that I can't be in there with Peyton. I know she's technically asleep, but I'm not and right now my mind is racing with every scenario possible. Mostly, what if something happens to her? What if she doesn't wake up from the anesthetic? I almost lost her once and I never want to experience something like that again. It damn near killed me.

But it also brought her to me or me to her. Doesn't matter which way you look at it. Her accident was eye opening. And I still hate Kyle Zimmerman. Even though the accident wasn't his fault, he should never have been in a car ten times too small for him and driving it in Chicago when road conditions are always questionable during the season. Stupid motherfucker.

"Noah, come sit." Katelyn pats the seat next to her, but I can't, and I don't understand why the other husbands aren't pacing like me. Maybe it's because I'm obsessed with my wife. That's what my friends tell me. I get it. They're jealous because Peyton's fucking awesome. But shouldn't these guys at least care if their wives are back there by themselves? It's then that I vow to be at every single appointment she has. She shouldn't have to do this alone.

"Do you want me to call Quinny?" Elle asks.

I roll my eyes at the nickname she's given him. He doesn't seem to mind. I guess I wouldn't care if Paige gave me some ridiculous nickname. But Quinny just doesn't fit him. Not in my eyes at least.

"No. She'll be out of there in . . ." I pause and look at my watch. "Ten minutes."

"Then come sit," my mother-in-law says and pats the seat again. I give in and sit next to her and instantly my legs start bouncing. I don't know how I'm going to make it through labor and delivery at this rate. It's not knowing that is going to give me anxiety.

"Everything is fine," Elle says. I know this, but knowing and recognizing are two different things.

"We'll see how Ben feels when it's your turn," I remind her.

"When is your appointment?" Katelyn asks Elle.

"Once we know Peyton's pregnant. We want to have the babies as close together as possible."

"Have you thought about the chance of multiples?"

"No, I'm just having one egg at a time deposited. I don't want twins. They're freaky," she says as she cocks her eyebrow at her mom.

"Well, one's a freak," I mutter, and she throws her magazine at me.

"I'll tell Peyton you went back to the porno room."

I shake my head. "She'd never believe you. Besides we?—"

"Stop!" Katelyn demands. She looks at Elle, "You're . . . I don't even know but I'm telling your dad so he can talk to you because I can't. And you," she looks at me. "I've known you since before you even took a breath. Don't talk about the things you do with my daughter." Katelyn lets out a huff.

"Geez, Mom," Elle says as she sulks.

I stifle a laugh. "You know your daughter and I are married, right?"

"Yep, I was there," Katelyn says.

"And you know how babies are made?"

"Noah Michael Westbury . . ."

"Oh, you got your full name." Elle continues with the childish antics by sticking her tongue out.

When my name's called, it dawns on me that Elle did all of this to keep my mind off Peyton. I stand and take two steps before turning and going to my sister-in-law. I pull her to me and wrap my arms around her. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Now go see our girl and come back with some damn good news."

"I will."

I follow the nurse down the hall to the recovery room. Each "room" is separated by a partition, giving the women some privacy. As soon as I see Peyton lying there, I'm by her side instantly.

"Hey," I say as I brush my fingers through her hair.

"Hi." Her voice is groggy, but nothing like it was after she woke up from the accident. My wife—the love of my life—had surgery while I was out of town for a game to remove scar tissue and only told her mom and sister because she didn't want me to worry. While I appreciate her efforts, I wanted to shake the shit out of her, and I told her under no certain terms is she allowed to do that again. Something could've happened and I wouldn't have been there.

"How do you feel?"

"I'm okay," she says. They warned us she could have cramps or be queasy for the rest of the day. Such a bummer that we'll go home, and I'll have to spend the rest of the day pampering her.

"Do you have any cramps?"

"No, not at the moment."

"Okay, well that's good."

The nurse comes in and hands me a paper bag. "Peyton has to stay for an hour and then she can leave. We've given her some Tylenol #3 with codeine for pain. Tonight, she needs to start taking Medrol and Progesterone, and then in five days we'll do the transfer."

Peyton smiles. "How many eggs did you get?"

"We got five," she says. "The embryologists will prepare Noah's sperm to fertilize your eggs. Tomorrow, we'll call you and let you know how many of your eggs were mature and how many fertilized. Then on day three, we'll give you an update on their progress. Day five is transfer day."

"All right, seems easy enough."

The nurse nodded. "Noah, you should know progesterone is a shot and we don't recommend self-administration because it needs to be injected intramuscularly."

"No problem," I tell her. "Her uncle is a physical therapist and can do it for her."

"Great. I'll be back to check on you in a bit. Noah, if she needs anything to eat or drink, there's a small cafeteria across the hall; help yourself."

As soon as she leaves, Peyton sits up and grimaces a bit. I sit next to her, rubbing my hand up and down her back. "Five eggs. That's good."

She nods. "I wanted more."

"I know, but we have five. That's more than we had yesterday."

Peyton nods again. "We haven't talked about what to do if multiple eggs fertilize."

"Well, we can definitely save them. Assuming this round is successful, we can do it again in two or three years."

"What would you say if I told you I'd want to transfer all five?"

"I think you're overthinking things here, babe. You're only allowed to transfer two. So, if all five fertilize, we'll freeze them and do this again. We don't know how your body is going to react or if you'll be able to carry. We haven't made it that far yet. Trial and error, remember."

"What if I can't?"

"Then we have the eggs for a surrogate."

Her eyes fill instantly with tears. I pull her to me and remind myself it's the hormones. She's hopped on all these drugs to make the eggs. She knows the ins and outs, probably better than the staff.

"Tomorrow, we'll know. Believe me, my guys are ready. This is their time to shine."

Peyton laughs.

"And then in five days, they'll put that little embryo in you, and it'll do its thing. Nine months from now, you'll scream at me, tell me you hate me, and blame me for all the pain you're in. So, I'd like to point out now, technically I didn't get you pregnant." I hold my hands up in surrender.

"You're such an ass."

"I know." I kiss her. "But I'm your ass and you can't ever get rid of me."

"I can't even if I tried."

"Rude. Your words wound me."

She leans into me. "I need it to be tomorrow already."

"I know. Me too."

The call finally comes in around noon with the news that we have two fertilized eggs. Just enough for a transfer of two or we can try with one. This wasn't the news Peyton wanted. Honestly, I'm not sure how I feel. The nurse told her the next few days would determine whether we come in on day five. The embryo needed to be blastocysts and if not, they'd have one extra day before all of this was for naught.

I stop paying attention to the call when Peyton breaks down in tears. She leaves her phone on the counter.

"Hey, sorry," I say toward the speaker. "We'll wait to hear from you in a couple of days." I hang up figuring if it's important they'll call back. "Peyton." I call her name throughout the house, and finally find her locked in our bathroom. "Babe."

"Go away."

"C'mon, that's not fair, Peyton."

"Life's not fair, Noah."

"You're right. It's not. And you've been dealt a shitty hand. We're trying to make the best of it. We're doing our best. Shutting me out isn't going to help."

"You don't get it."

"To some extent, I do, Peyton. Wanting a child is natural. It's the natural progression in our relationship. Hell, I want you to carry my baby and it kills me inside that I haven't been able to do the one thing you need me to do." My throat tightens. I swallow the sob threatening to escape. I press my back into the door, I slide down and bring my knees up. "I see the tears when you think you're hiding them. I see the calendar, the highlighted dates, and know when you're sneaking out of bed to take a test. These things aren't going unnoticed no matter how hard you try to hide them. Peyton, if I could, I'd go back and change things. I truly would. Not acting on my feelings when you turned eighteen has been my biggest regret. I let perception cloud my judgment and I feared what people would think. What the NFL and our parents would think, and I was wrong."

My wife says nothing.

I don't know how long we stay like this, with me sitting against the door and her hiding in the bathroom. When she finally opens the door, I fall backward and let myself hit the floor. Looking up at her, she's bent forward slightly with her long, dark hair cascading toward me like a waterfall.

"Hey."

"Hey," she says.

I extend my hand out for her to take, hoping she thinks she's helping me up. When she clasps mine, I pull her down to me. Her breath escapes her lungs. I chuckle at the sound she makes when she lands on me.

My arm wraps around her, and I hold her there. She begins to cry, breaking my already splintering heart even more. All I can do is hold her because anything else is out of my control. Right now, all I want to do is make love to my wife, show her how much of a woman she is to me, that she's perfect with or without a child. But I can't. Because hopefully in four days, they'll be able to transfer two embryos, and they can't take the chance I have a swimmer in there, looking for some fun.

Instead, I hold her and let her cry. I encourage her to let it all out, reminding her that I can take it. I do this while staring at the ceiling and fighting back my own emotions, my own tears. Later, when I'm in the shower or she is, I'll break down. That's when I'll let my emotions take over. She doesn't need to see me like that, not when she's dealing with this.

Later, when she's asleep, I'll go to her yoga room and sit in front of her Buddha altar. Maybe he has the answers to help us. That's when it hits me. I may have the answer.

"Come with me," I say as I tap her shoulder. We get up and I take her hand, pulling her to our bedroom. "Sit on the bed," I tell her as I go to my dresser. Inside, I go through my socks until I find the silk pouch I'd been given in Portland from Madame Kiesha.

Inside the bag is the bracelet she gave me. She said this would help Peyton. I don't know why I didn't give it to her before.

"Here," I say as I slip it on her wrist. "I don't know if I believe this or not, but Julius had taken me to this guru once. He needed something from her, and she knew right away we were trying to have a baby. She sensed things and then gave this to me. She said you're supposed to wear this until after the babies come."

"Babies?"

I nod as I look into her eyes. "She definitely said babies."

Peyton lifts her arm and looks at the bracelet.

"I'm sorry I didn't give it to you earlier. I don't know why."

"Because I'm meant to have it now."

I kneel in front of her and rest my head on her lap. She runs her fingers through my hair, comforting me, when I should be the one comforting her.

"It's going to be okay, Peyton."

She nods. "I know. Because I have you."