It was never supposed to be this hard.
When you meet the right person, and you finally get married, and you have a good job, and a nice house, and a white picket fence, having a baby is just supposed to be part of that. Pregnancy was the natural next progressive step, it was where they were supposed to be going when he slipped that circle of white gold over the third knuckle of her left hand.
It was never supposed to be this hard.
But it wasn’t happening. God, 17 year old girls could get pregnant without even trying, but she, Pam Halpert, a healthy, 30 year old woman, in a loving relationship with a great life… it just wasn’t happening.
They tried everything. They took her temperature and figured out the days she was going to be ovulating, but nothing. After they made love, she would lay with a pillow under her hips to usher his boys up inside of her, but… nothing. They consulted infertility doctors who assured them that everything was fine. They bought home ovulation tests and pregnancy tests and vitamins and… nothing. They struggled with the questions from their mothers about grandbabies, and questions from Michael about their sex life, and more of comments from Andy and Kevin about Pam’s bust size and how she must be a goddess in the sack, and they still held hands on the way home.
Until it had started to become a point of contention with them. Jim kept saying he was OK with seeing how things played out, they were in their early thirties, they had plenty of time. Pam wanted things to move faster, quicker, she wanted the baby that was going to be a little part of her and a little part of him and she wanted him or her in her arms. She wanted to feel the ache of child birth, she wanted to feel the elation of holding her baby for the first time – of watching Jim hold their child for the first time... She wanted to be exhausted from 2 AM feedings and she wanted to watch this little person grow up and become someone. She wanted everything.
And she couldn’t get pregnant.
She felt his love for her every day. She knew that he loved her and loved her body and would have done everything he could for her. But she also knew that he wanted a baby more than anything. She knew he wanted a little girl who would have him wrapped around her little finger. She knew he wanted a little boy to teach how to play basketball. She knew.
She knew because she saw the look on Jim’s face every fourth weekend of the month when she came out of the bathroom, another box of tampons having been opened. She felt the pain of seeing him holding their nieces and nephews and knowing that for some reason, she couldn’t give him one. She hated her body, hated that it wouldn’t give her the one thing that she’d been praying for, for… years. She loathed the depression that came on that dominated her daily life, that made her feel inadequate, that made her feel so small, that made her feel like she was a horrible wife and would be an even worse mother. She felt frustration nipping at her heels and her fingertips, biting her, piercing her skin. Bitter wasn’t a sufficient word to describe it.
At one point… at one point they had been pregnant. Well, she had been. About six weeks along. The joy she’d felt, the elation, the sheer euphoria of knowing that she had a baby inside of her, growing, that she’d created with Jim out of love and hope and prayer. A little baby that might grow up with his eyes and her hair, maybe her nose and his smile. When she’d told him she thought she might be, and they went to buy a test and they stood in the bathroom of the house he’d grown up in waiting to see if it turned blue… it was everything she’d ever dreamed of. And then it did turn blue, and he turned to her with tears in his eyes and a smile on his face and he took her softly into his arms – carefully – and he hugged her and pressed kisses to her hair and her cheeks and her lips and everything had been… God, everything had been just beautiful.
She bounced with excitement, anxious to wait until she’d completed her first trimester to tell everyone, because she didn’t want to jinx it. She’d come home from a day at work, laughing at Dwight and rolling her eyes at Michael, and it was a typical day. She was smiling as she made dinner, and giggling as they watched their favorite TV show, and when she stripped off her clothing to take a shower, it felt as though nothing was amiss. She felt full.
It was in the shower, however, when everything went awry. She was shampooing her hair when she felt the familiar ache in her belly, and her hands slid to her abdomen, cradling the fetus that rested there, her face fell and tears stung her eyes. She bit the inside of her lip as she lifted her right leg, resting her foot on the side of the tub. She pressed her fist to her mouth as she lowered her right hand between her thighs, running it along the length of her, and when she lifted her hand back up into the stream of water that splashed on her chest, the droplets stained red and she fell backwards into the side of the shower. Her legs felt like jelly as she sobbed, the water falling like rain around her, and she drifted to her knees into the spray, holding her stomach as the baby she loved so much already, the baby she’d only known about for a week, but wanted more than anything, unattached from her body and slid down the drain, swirling around the silver catcher before slipping away forever.
It had been nearly forty-five minutes of running water when Jim had come to find her, curled into the fetal position in the tub, the drain nearly clogged and the water soaking around her a soft shade of pink. He picked her up, terrified, and she looked into his eyes and choked out a sob.
“Our baby, Jim… Oh my God, Jim, our baby is gone.”
And she heard his teeth grit and saw his jaw clench and he laid her naked and wet and shivering on their bed, and he pulled up the covers around her, their beautiful white down comforter, and he lay down next to her, tears sliding down his cheeks silently. Their hands met somewhere in the middle, and when his gripped hers, and she could feel the smooth hardness of the ring around his finger, she pulled away and rolled into a ball and sobbed herself to sleep.
She awoke the next morning to him spooned up behind her, his hand splayed protectively over her stomach, and she twisted and turned and jerked away from him, and she ran to the bathroom to throw up. As she sat back up, perspiration beaded on her forehead, she saw the bottom of the tub stained pink, and she turned to her left and vomited some more. She finished and wiped the tears from her eyes, and stood to wrap herself in a towel. She bent over the sink, glancing up once to see her reflection in the mirror. Her blood shot eyes, the dark bags underneath, her hair curled around her face haphazardly, the paleness of her skin. She couldn’t look at herself, at her body. The body that couldn’t keep their baby alive inside of her.
Her eyes turned to Jim still asleep in bed, and to the dark red stain on their sheets, on their stark white comforter. The comforter they’d chosen together right before they’d gotten married, the one they’d put on their registry that her mother that purchased for them. The comforter that now held the remnants of what could have been, what would have been, what should have been.
It was never supposed to be this hard.
And she didn’t know how to fix it.
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Chapter Notes:
This is - I know, spoiler for my own story - about infertility. Totally off from just happened on the actual show, but I've been dealing with a coworker lately who has had major infertility issues, and I felt the need to write.
The backstory is my coworker, a sweet woman with a darling husband in her late 20's, struggled to get pregnant for almost 2 years. She went through almost every infertility treatment imaginable, and after a looong time and 2 rounds of IVF, she's finally 19 weeks pregnant with twin girls. Her relationship with her husband really reminds me of JAM, which inspired this story.
I have a feeling this is going to get pretty heavy, but hopefully will have a sweet ending. I make no promises tho.
Enjoy!
Again, I own nothin. At all. Because if I did, there would have been JAM babies in Season 2, Karen never would have existed, Roy would have fallen off a cliff, and everything would have been fluffy and wonderful since day 1.
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The backstory is my coworker, a sweet woman with a darling husband in her late 20's, struggled to get pregnant for almost 2 years. She went through almost every infertility treatment imaginable, and after a looong time and 2 rounds of IVF, she's finally 19 weeks pregnant with twin girls. Her relationship with her husband really reminds me of JAM, which inspired this story.
I have a feeling this is going to get pretty heavy, but hopefully will have a sweet ending. I make no promises tho.
Enjoy!
Again, I own nothin. At all. Because if I did, there would have been JAM babies in Season 2, Karen never would have existed, Roy would have fallen off a cliff, and everything would have been fluffy and wonderful since day 1.
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Chapter End Notes:
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And there it begins. I know, I know, why the stupid angst when on the real show they're happy and having a JAM baby and everything is wonderful and perfect? Well, I guess because in working with said coworker, I've realized that not everything is puppies and rainbows and sparkles when it comes to pregnancy.
Anywho, reviews are glorious, whether you liked it or not. Constructive criticism is always appreciated :) Even if it's just, "hey Sara, WTF? We want more fluff from you, eff this angst crap". Because I understand lol
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And there it begins. I know, I know, why the stupid angst when on the real show they're happy and having a JAM baby and everything is wonderful and perfect? Well, I guess because in working with said coworker, I've realized that not everything is puppies and rainbows and sparkles when it comes to pregnancy.
Anywho, reviews are glorious, whether you liked it or not. Constructive criticism is always appreciated :) Even if it's just, "hey Sara, WTF? We want more fluff from you, eff this angst crap". Because I understand lol
