4
Emily
I was shocked when my younger sister, Sara, told me she was pregnant. One day she unexpectedly dropped by the law office where I was interning. I was very surprised to see her. As I was making copies of some legal documents in the copier room, she told me she was expecting. I tried to be excited and supportive, but it was difficult.
Sara went on the pill when she was sixteen. I always knew she was wild and impetuous, but I never expected her to be careless enough to get herself knocked up at such a young age. Yet here we were nine months later, looking at this seven-pound infant. Everyone says that babies are a gift, and I can understand why. He was precious. That doesn’t mean I’m still not conflicted over the situation.
I was extremely relieved when Katharine came to the waiting area to tell us that the baby was healthy. No matter how unsure I was about this pregnancy, I never wanted anything to be wrong with the child. Seeing the baby elicited a slew of new emotions in me. I was happy for them. I truly was. But I was also feeling extremely agitated.
There was a large part of me that was envious of my little sister, and I was having a really hard time dealing with that emotion. Sara and Jackson had an incredible relationship. They were good friends. They had a lot of fun together. They were constantly laughing. I have no idea how they could find so much to laugh about. They also had intense sexual chemistry. Sara was very open with me about her intimate relationship with Jackson. I was jealous of them. I never experienced that kind of connection with a man before. Even while she was pregnant, Sara told me about the wild sex they had in the most bizarre places. I couldn’t fathom doing most of the things she told me about with my boyfriend. Our lives were so different.
My boyfriend, Martin, and I have been living together for almost a year, but we have been dating for three. I just finished my first year of law school, and he was wrapping up his first year in med school. We started dating in college. He was a nice enough guy, and I guess it’s fair to say I loved him. We seemed to be compatible enough. I didn’t think I was in love with him, though. He was as predictable and boring as the day was long. I knew he felt a lot of pressure to do well in school, so I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. I had to pray that things would improve once we finished school.
I knew I hadn’t been completely honest about my feelings for him, but there was a large part of me that believed it would be better to be with him then to be alone. I now know that was a mistake. As soon as we moved in together, I wanted out. I felt claustrophobic in our small apartment, and I daydreamed about living on my own and dating other guys. It had been a very long year, and I felt completely trapped.
To say our sex life was dismal is an understatement. We had sex twice a week. Always on the same days. Always in the same positions. It was routine and completely unsatisfying. When we had sex in the missionary position, I felt like a priest was poking me a few times to complete an exorcism. Why a priest, you may wonder? He grunted a few times, said, “Oh My God,” and collapsed.
When we did it doggie style, I felt nothing but a strong desire for it to end. He had no idea what body part on a woman needed to be stimulated for pleasure. He found oral stimulation on a woman unhygienic, although he had requested I go down on him a few times. I told him I had TMJ that gets aggravated with fellatio so I didn’t have to go down on him at all. He believed my explanation and never asked again. I didn’t understand why it would be OK for me to go down on him if he wasn’t willing to go down on me.
Whenever I tried to be creative or spontaneous, I got shut down. When I tried to initiate it on an off night during the week, he turned me away. Foreplay was exactly the same every time. A little touch here, a little rub here, and bam, he was in me and it was over before it even started. If I had any pent-up sensations that needed quelling when he finished, I hid in the bathroom so I could finish myself off. When I was in the apartment alone, I crawled under the covers with my vibrator to get some relief. I may not be as wild as my sister, but I had some fundamental needs that were not getting met.
There was another first-year law student named Chad who had shown interest in me. He was six four and built like a Greek statue. He had blond hair and dark-blue eyes. He had the most adorable smile that was accentuated by two perfectly placed dimples. He had an incredibly casual demeanor for a law student, which was so refreshing. He had moved to New York from California in order to go to law school. We were in the same classes and were even in a study group together. Last year, he made a point of telling me he was single. I begrudgingly told him I was living with someone.
“So, Miss Emily, are you taken?” he asked me one day in a jovial manner.
My little voice was screaming, “Just say no!”
“Um, sadly, yes. I mean yes.” I wanted to lie and tell him no. I really did. I couldn’t do it, though. My mom cheated on my dad. It was wrong. I didn’t want to be like her. But I was so miserable with Martin. It was hard for me to admit I was in a relationship because I didn’t want to be in one. “We actually live together.” It was painful to admit.
Chad looked sheepishly at me with his big blue eyes. “That is unfortunate for me. If things ever change, please let me know. I would love to get to know you better.” He gave me the most endearing smile and walked away. Every part of my being was beating myself up for telling him about Martin. I finally had a hot guy hit on me, and I shut him down. I wanted to tell him I was available, but I couldn’t.
It was strange having any guy hit on me. I hadn’t had another man approach me in years. And this was more than an ordinary guy. He was hot. Really hot. I had never had a really hot guy hit on me before. It was flattering. Martin was average looking at best. Yet next to this guy, he wasn’t even remotely desirable. It’s funny how a lousy sex life changed how I viewed my boyfriend. If I were totally honest, I’d have to say I wasn’t even attracted to Martin anymore.
To have a sexy man show interest in me felt incredible. I was always careful not to do anything that would bring too much attention my way. I know I have always been pretty simple looking, but it was deliberate on my part. Being invisible was safer. There was enough drama in our family growing up. I didn’t have the energy to add to it.
I never was interested in doing much to my hair but pulling it away from my face. Mascara and Chap Stick were the extent of my makeup regime. I dressed in dark colors most of the time because I always wanted to stay under the radar. Sara was the flamboyant one. I never craved attention. Now I was completely thrown off guard by this beautiful man. He was blatantly attracted to me, and I wasn’t sure how to handle it.
Martin was decent looking—at least I’d thought so when we’d first started dating. He was almost six foot, which was much shorter than Chad. He wore a very short, professional hair style. Since he couldn’t tolerate one hair being out of place, he had his hair cut every three weeks. He wore glasses and dressed extremely preppy. His clothes were always ironed and matched perfectly. Blue jeans, sweat pants, and soft wrinkled t-shirts did not exist in his wardrobe. He was very slender, which I always thought I preferred. Until Chad. He had muscles busting through his fitted T-shirts that made me drool in lustful admiration. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have sex with him. I doubted it would be boring. I had never had an orgasm with a man before. I bet Chad could change all of that. Jesus, I sounded like a horny teenager!
As I looked at my sister, I was overwrought with emotion. She and Jackson had a baby conceived in love. Would I ever have that? It was obvious how passionate they felt toward one another, and I was pretty confident the baby would bring them even closer. I was supposed to be happy for them. I wasn’t; I was utterly conflicted.
Everyone surrounded the bed and watched as Sara nursed the baby. It was miraculous how natural the process looked. The only thing I ever dreamed about was being successful. I’d wanted to be an attorney for as long as I could remember. I couldn’t say I’d dreamed about being a mother. Our mother showed little interest in Sara and me. Her neglect left a bad taste in my mouth. I wouldn’t want to be an absentee mom to a child. I knew I would want to be an integral part of my child’s life. Our mother was extremely self-absorbed and left the child rearing to others. It was very hard on both of us girls.
My stepmom, Katharine, on the other hand, was the epitome of what a caring mom was like. She did an amazing job with Jackson and had opened up her home and heart to both Sara and me. That is what I heard moms were supposed to be like. Sadly, it wasn’t my reality.
And now my little sister was a mother. It was surreal.
When the baby finished nursing, Katharine helped Sara reposition the baby over her shoulder so she could gently burp him. It was obvious Sara didn’t have much experience holding a baby. She looked petrified. She tapped his back gently while supporting his head. This child mesmerized everyone.
Sara looked up at me and smiled. She looked so different. “Hey, Em, want to hold him?” she asked me.
Oh my. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d held a baby. The thought terrified me. “No, I think Jackson should be the next in line to hold him. Thank you, though.” I wasn’t quite ready yet. The sheer knowledge of my sister having a baby was weird enough.
I watched as Jackson sat next to Sara on the bed. Sara cautiously handed the bundle to him. Katharine gave Jackson a little advice on how to hold him and the importance of supporting his neck and head. Jackson looked very nervous as he took the baby from Sara. I wasn’t sure if he’d ever held a baby before. Once the baby was secure in his arms, he looked instantly comfortable. I saw him look at Sara and then at his mom. A very beautiful and serene smile appeared on his face. He quietly said, “Dad was right. I have a son, and he is OK.”
No one said anything. Katharine and Sara had tears in their eyes. When I looked back at Jackson, tears were flowing down his face. We all knew he had received a sign from his deceased father. I wasn’t sure I believed it, but he and Sara did have a healthy boy. Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe it wasn’t. All I did know was they had made a beautiful child together.
This was the most miraculous thing I had ever witnessed. I was thankful to be a part of it all. I knew at that moment I had to set all of my insecurities aside and be happy for them. My sister had a baby. I had a nephew. I had always been a skeptic, but I think this experience changed all of that. Today, for the first time in my life, I believed in miracles.