Maternity Leave (9781466871533) by Julie Halpern Read Free Book Online Page A

I have already purchased a set of encryption rubber stampers to wipe out the threat of identity theft, serrated knives, and a new set of pots. But buying things isn’t my favorite part. I am particularly enamored with the testimonial line. People call in to say how much they covet the products, and they’re so complimentary and kind, and the hosts are so encouraging and enthusiastic. If everyone were as loving to each other as they are on QVC, there would be no war.
    Ooh! An olive tree!
    Daytime
    Mom came over today to drop off some more gifts from her friends. I’ve heard her kvetching about forking over money for all of the obligatory baby and wedding shower gifts, not to mention the bar and bas mitzvahs, and finally I am the one to reap the rewards. If only those rewards didn’t come guilt infused with promises of thank-you notes.
    My mom and her friends are single-handedly allowing the United States Postal Service to remain open on Saturdays. That reminds me: I need to buy stamps. Now there is a great idea for a new baby gift.
    14 Days Old
    My friend Louise just had her baby. She went through a shitload of fertility testing, had two miscarriages, and suffered through an entire pregnancy’s worth of shots for her four-year-old daughter, Jupiter. I felt horribly guilty that it took me and Zach only three months of trying to get pregnant with Sam. So many people I know have gone through fertility issues. My older sister, Nora, has been trying for three years to get pregnant. She’s had two miscarriages so far, plus one pregnancy that looked successful but ended at eighteen weeks owing to complications from chromosomal abnormalities. She still hasn’t completely recovered from that one. I was terrified to tell her about my pregnancy with Sam. Zach and I found out I was pregnant right before Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and we were overjoyed until we realized we’d have to break the news to Nora and her husband, Eddie. Would she hate me? Scream in my face? Grit her teeth, then curse me out to our mom every chance she got?
    Zach and I planned to make the announcement to our families at Rosh Hashanah dinner. It was Mom’s night to host; she has three sisters who rotate hosting gigs for every holiday: Rosh Hashanah, Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, and Passover. Zach’s moms flew in that year for Rosh Hashanah, a rarity since we usually fly out to Seattle for Christmas. But Dawn and Mimi were readying to take a monthlong cruise along the Amazon, and they wanted to try the new-to-them experience of Jewish New Year. It felt like the perfect time to share the big baby news, but I didn’t want to surprise Nora with anything in front of a group of people. I called her that morning.
    â€œNora, I have to tell you something, but I don’t want you to be upset.”
    â€œThen chances are I will be,” she guessed.
    â€œDon’t say that! I already feel bad as it is.”
    â€œAs long as you feel bad, then that should make up for how bad I’m about to feel.”
    â€œNora! You are not making what I’m about to say any easier.”
    â€œNo, you are not making it any easier. You could have just started with, ‘I have something to tell you.’ You’re the one who added the caveat. Now everyone feels like shit, and you haven’t even said what you were going to say that supposedly was going to make me feel all bad.”
    â€œNever mind,” I told her. My nerve had been lost in all of the back-and-forth.
    â€œNo, Annie, you can tell me. I promise I won’t feel bad.”
    â€œYou promise?” I double-checked.
    â€œUnless you killed my cat. Or Mom. Did you kill Mom?”
    â€œYes. I killed Mom. And Dad, too.”
    â€œGood for you. I mean, not about Mom, but Dad was a solid choice.” Nora still hasn’t gotten over Dad leaving Mom for his dental hygienist when we were in high school. “See! We’ve moved on to patricide.