The Rainbow (Frerard) [underwater_sky]

March - Like Lions (Part Five)

            Jasmine called me up later that week and told me she had a surprise. Nothing special, but she wanted to see me. She told me to come over to her apartment before my job one weeknight and to bring food, too. She gave me detailed directions on how to get to this gluten-free vegan bakery downtown and then a vegan Indian place to get the exact meal she wanted. She was precise right down to how much spice to put in (a lot, but only on the main dish and only if there was extra coconut milk) and what she wanted to drink (ice tea, no preference of what kind, just so long as it was herbal and not sugar-free). By the time I was done writing all of that down, I had nearly forgotten what her original purpose was.

            "A surprise, huh? Are you sure this wasn't some elaborate ploy to get me to bring you food?"

            She sighed, but took my joke in good spirits. "No conforming to any old pregnancy narratives, Frank. I'm not going to ask you for ice cream in the middle of the night and start to eat pickles right from the jar. I want to have dinner with you and I actually do have a surprise. I would ask you to bring the food regardless of my condition. Besides, I'll be providing the dessert.”

            I was about to ask her if she wanted me to pick up that ice cream, to save her the trip at midnight, but I held my tongue. I was feeling playful, but she was taking this all very seriously. Although part of me still doubted that she would have asked for food this specifically, I conceded to her point on the issue. She was the one who was pregnant and had to deal with the repercussions: including physical, emotional, and social, one that I had not considered before. I suddenly felt self-conscious on the phone with some of the things I said related to her pregnancy and some of the thoughts that ran through my head about it. These narratives about pregnancy weren't just the medical ones of the nine month waiting period (which was frustrating enough as it was) but what people told us pregnancy meant. I didn't want to feel like I was conforming to stereotypes, nor did I want to box Jasmine in. But when I was out getting her ice tea, I saw pickles and I felt myself smile inside. Pregnant people liked pickles, and that was why I was smiling, but that wasn't true of Jasmine; she had always hated them (along with anything in a brine, like olives or hot chilies). I tried to separate the images in my mind of what I considered to be Jasmine and what I considered to be pregnant behavior, but it took some work. I would need to practice it more. I had to figure out what our own social narrative was in all of this. We knew how we were feeling (scared shitless and happy) and we knew the physicality of it (we had both been to doctors now), but our social lives were harder to grasp and understand. I knew and loved Jasmine, but I still had no idea what pregnant Jasmine was like or if there was a difference. 

            By the time I was done driving around to get her specific items, I had two bags full of food. I parked in her apartment complex and struggled through doors as I carried them up to her floor. She greeted me with a smile, already open and waiting, and took the bags off me before giving me a hug. She kissed my cheek quickly before heading off into the kitchen and I felt my heart skip a beat. Ever since we had decided to put off the house hunting, she had been a lot more even-tempered. She had been so worried about losing herself in this process that she clung to every last shred of independence. She had begun to work longer hours here and there in order to cover for herself when she went out on errands or for doctor's appointments.

            Other than the strict authorization that she was keeping her own apartment, her body was another essential part of this process. She had been researching and going to doctors recently and I hoped that one of the things she wanted to tell me was some information on her condition and what process she could expect in the future. I grappled with my overwhelming urge to want to know details, and anticipating the limitations on what I would be given. I didn't want to take over her body, to claim ownership to something that wasn't mine, to something that wasn't even born yet, because I knew I had no rights. It sucked when I thought about it sometimes, but she, and anything that may be a part of her, wasn't mine. It was as simple as that. It wasn't just for pregnancy, either. If I wanted to get a nose job or a tattoo and if Gerard wanted to get liposuction, then we couldn't restrict the other's behavior. I kept translating the pregnancy dilemmas that I was coming up against into scenarios where Gerard and I were instead; 'if something happened to Gerard and he did this, would I care this much?' type of set-up, which did seem to help. When you were that close to someone, regardless or not if you conceived something together, it was hard to differentiate what was yours and what was theirs. Our bodies had meshed in some way and it was hard to differentiate after acts that were so close. Jasmine was always going to be a part of me and I was always going to be a part of her. But I was also slowly learning that there was always going to be something that was inaccessible to me from her, from Gerard, and I would always have something that they would never grasp either. It wasn't bad necessarily and I didn't need to freak out. It was just there.