Seeds of Doubt

MARK – APRIL 1, 2024

The logo on the envelope caught his eye and put an instant knot in his stomach. Another bill for another visit? He thought they were paid in full. Fed up with the exorbitant fees and procedures, the empty promises, they decided to go back to the natural way. Holding the envelope, it felt heavier than the weight of paperwork should feel, more like the weight of the world. Should he open it? He could toss it out or bury it back under the pile where he found it. Either choice would be better than bringing the raw emotion back to the surface. 

Sitting at the kitchen table, Mark stared at the logo, the mother and child drawn in one continuous loop, simple yet complicated beyond measure. 

Strange, there was no address, no postage affixed, just stark whiteness apart from the logo in the upper left corner. He couldn’t recall ever leaving the clinic with anything like that. Turning it over, he bent up the ends of the metal clasp that held in the mystery and lifted the flap. 

His eyes opened in disbelief as his heart took on an erratic beat staring at the image, the photo he prayed to one day hold in his hands, the long sought after sonogram.

***

“Did you find the paperwork, babe?” 

He looked at his wife as she asked the question, not hearing the words over the buzzing in his ears. 

“Babe?” She repeated, looking at him quizzically. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

What he was looking for? The grainy image flashed before his eyes. The one piece of paper in that oversized stark envelope with that artsy logo. Panicked he had thrust it into his briefcase upon hearing the creaking of the screen door, the jangle of the keys before the doorknob turned. 

“Everything ok?” Her third attempt to reach him through the thick atmosphere engulfing him. He looked at her, those blue eyes always full of sparkle and joy, now icy and foreign. Who was she? 

“Yeah. Cool. Everything’s cool. I found the documents.”

“Thanks again. I just can’t deal with doing our taxes this year.”

“Yeah. It was a rough year.”  Looking for clues, he searched his wife’s face.

“The worst.” Jenny answered as she went into the bedroom, leaving him staring at the closed door.

***

A baby. 

Mark sat behind closed doors with the sonogram on his desk. 

“Hold all calls,” he buzzed Marissa, disconnecting before she had a chance to respond. 

The image had been seared into his mind as if with a hot branding iron. The source of his shock sat untouched in his briefcase waiting for the opportunity to study it. Maybe he misunderstood? There were multiple explanations rather than Jenny’s betrayal. His mind had spun into overdrive coming up with a series of scenarios to make this puzzle piece fit.

It was an advertisement, he concluded. Look what our overpriced clinic can do for you. Make your dreams come true. Teasing and taunting month after month to the point of foreclosure notices coming in the mail despite the endless extra hours at the office.

Finally convinced of its innocence, he took out the black and white photo and placed it face up on his desk.  His estimation was five weeks based on years of research in anticipation of their miracle. Emotionless, he stared. Disconnected, sure of its impersonal nature, he allowed his mind to absorb the image.

His eye travelled down to the fine print at the bottom for the first time. How had he missed that? Squinting, he read “Jennifer Walsh 12-22-2023”, putting an end to the notion of a generic advertisement and confirming his worst fears.

***

“Working late?” The text chimed in.

He stared at the two words from his wife, her image in the circle on top of the screen. The once beautiful smile gone, replaced with an evil grimace mocking him with her façade.  His life partner, heart and soul, suddenly a stranger.

He switched off his phone.

***

“Did you know the gestational sac forms around the embryo at five weeks?” Mark threw back his shot of Jack Daniels after imparting those words of wisdom onto the bartender. “The embryo is the size of a peppercorn at that time. Did you know that? A peppercorn. What the fuck is a peppercorn?” He clicked the empty shot glass onto the bar for another.

“Dude. You’ve had enough.”

“I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough, man,” his slurred voice sounded foreign to his own ears.  All sense of normalcy had been washed away before he started drowning his sorrows midafternoon. Anger was born and grew more monstruous with each passing minute as he studied his child’s image.

“Should I call you an Uber?” 

“Why don’t you do your job and pour me another drink? Drinks for all, in fact.” He turned to his neighbor on his right leaning sloppily on the bar. “What’s your pleasure, my friend?” 

“Fuck off, asshole.”

He stood quickly, the bar stool clattering backwards onto the dusty wooden floor. “Who you calling asshole?”

“You ain’t worth my time. Get the fuck outta here.”

***

Clutching the toilet’s rim, he threw up another round of Jack Daniels while imagining Jenny’s laughter. Dumb fuck. He got what he deserved. Apparently all those years praying for a family were a farce, a joke. The Oscar goes to Jenny Walsh for her role as devoted wife and wannabe mother.  Stellar performance while he played the supporting actor, the foolish believer. 

Ending a pregnancy was that easy for her? Nah, I’ll pass. I didn’t want a child after all, just wanted to fuck with my husband, string him along. Get rid of it. 

Note to self, text Brian. Get his lawyer’s name and number.   She wasn’t the only one who could throw away a dream.

***

JENNY - DECEMBER 22, 2023

“Well, my love. You’re not a week late. You are, in fact, five weeks pregnant.” Rosemarie beamed at her.

“Are you serious?” Jenny wiped the gel off her belly, a look of disbelief on her face.

“The picture doesn’t lie. Your prayers have been answered.”

She thought of Mark, her love, her heart and soul. He would be just as thrilled as she was. Why hadn’t she told him she was late? She thought of his face as he left for the office that morning, so earnestly kissing her goodbye. She couldn’t break his heart again with her false hopes. After zipping her jeans, she swung her legs off the exam table. 

“I can’t wait to get home and celebrate. Just in time for the holidays. I can’t believe it.”

“Here,” Rosemarie slid the sonogram into the white envelope and handed it over. “Baby’s first photo. Congratulations!”

***

The table was set, the bottle of wine placed next to the sparkling water, the candles were lit and glowing. 

The creaking of the screen door and the jangling of the keys sang of Mark’s arrival. Jenny smiled, her heart pounding in anticipation. Finally, their dream was coming true.

Simultaneous to his cheerful greeting of “Honey, I’m home” came the searing pain and sudden gush of warm blood. Doubled over, she ran into the bathroom, grateful to have spared her husband yet another heartbreak.