November
17 Weeks
I can totally understand why people say the second trimester is the one where you can forget you're pregnant because there are times when I wake up and get ready for work and it isn't till I'm dressed and making breakfast that I remember I am growing a tiny human inside me. Which is bizarre to think that something so important can be so easily forgotten, if only for a few moments. Until the baby starts kicking I think it'll be easy to forget about, now that the morning sickness has gone.
I am avoiding my Mum and Dad. I mean they live 400 miles away in Scotland so it's not like I'm going to bump into them down the corner shop. But I have been avoiding all FaceTime and Skype calls much to my mothers annoyance. Despite the fact you can still barely tell I am pregnant, my mum would know. Call it mothers intuition, I don't know, she would just know straight away. So phone calls and texts will have to be sufficient for now. Or at least until I build up the courage to tell them. I am running out of time and burying my head in the sand wont help but I just cant bring myself to do it. I can feel my trousers getting tighter, there still isn't much of a bump but my clothes are getting tighter and I know in only a few weeks it will start to become noticeable. I was successfully managing to keep the bloatedness and roundness of my stomach under loose fitting jumpers (praise be for knitwear!) but I couldn't keep it hidden for long.
I don't know how to broach the subject with my parents. It had taken all my courage telling Harry, I don't think I can bare the disappointment in my fathers eyes when I tell them I've gotten myself pregnant by a man I am not in a relationship with. Probably every fathers worst nightmare. I know in the end they would be supportive. They were my parents after all and I was giving them a grandchild. However the initial disappointment and assumption that I'd ruined my life was something I didn't want to deal with. Then I don't know how to deal with the aftermath. My parents telling me I should move home to be closer to them would be inevitable and moving back to Scotland wasn't something I was going to consider., which would end in another argument.
I had always had a great relationship with both my parents. I had a happy childhood. My mum had always stayed at home to raise me and my dad had gone out to bring in the money that kept us in a fairly nice house, kept me in all the latest fashion trends, and enough left over to go on lovely holidays together. All in all it was a great childhood and even as I grew up and started to rebel, my parents were pretty understanding with any of the stupid shit I tried to pull which resulted in me being a relatively decent teenager and turning into a semi-stable, well rounded adult. Even when I got in to my twenties and wanted to leave our small little home town in central Scotland they didn't try to stop me. They armed me with as much knowledge and experience as two parents could and let me go and 'find myself' or whatever dumb shit I called it at the time. Then they were totally supportive when I found a decent job and decided to stay. But I don't think this pregnancy falls under the same bracket. I don't think they'll be as understanding this time around.
"Did you find out the gender?" Allison asked me the following Tuesday. Hawaii Michael had whisked her away on a romantic weekend all weekend, which meant I hadn't seen her since the night we appeared on Harry's doorstep. Therefore I hadn't updated her, on the scan, more than a few texts and a picture of the newest scan image.
I shook my head as we sat wrapped up in blankets with the fire burning in the background casting a beautiful orange glow around the living room. The evenings were getting darker as the weeks crept closer to Christmas and I loved nothing more than coming home from work, lighting a few candles, putting the fire on and inevitably falling asleep on the couch.
I shook my head. "Baby wouldn't sit still for long enough. The sonographer said she didn't want to guess in case she was wrong because she really couldn't say either way"
"But they'll check again at the next scan?" Allison asks from beside me. We're sitting on the same couch with my laptop propped on the coffee table in front of us, watching an episode of Gossip Girl.
"If I ask them too, but if they cant see then I don't think I get another scan after that... unless I go private" I add quietly, hoping Allison puts two and two together and gets what I mean, but also hoping she doesn't because I don't want to have this awkward conversation.
"Private? Does Big Daddy Warbucks want you to go private?" Allison asks wiggling her eyebrows at her amusing nickname.
"I think so" I roll my eyes at her ridiculous nickname for Harry. I pull my sleeves of my sweatshirt down to cover my hands. Its a nervous habit I've had for years. I think that's why I enjoy wearing sweatshirts and jumpers so much. There's more to fidget with.
"And...??" Allison eyes me expectantly. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a messy blonde ponytail. Her skin is clear and bright and I'm jealous because the hormones are doing ridiculous things to my skin and I feel a little chubby and spotty and not at all very appealing. I want to be one of those glowy pregnant people that embrace their beautiful bumps and walk about in maxi dresses like some ethereal, earth mothers walking barefoot around the forest. But instead I'll be found wrapped in blankets, on my sofa, eating bars of chocolate, picking at my spotty face and whining about being fat.
"I'm not sure" A scowl falls over my face. "I don't want him spending money on me. I didn't get into this situation to gain money from him or for him to pay for everything. I don't want people to think I'm a gold digger after his money"
"Is it anyone else's business?" Allison raises her eyebrows in question.
"Well no... but I don't want people to write lies about me"
"People? You mean the media?" Allison gets to the crux of my problem pretty quickly.
"I just... I know the stories that have been written about him in the past. I'm under no illusion that when this becomes public knowledge the newspapers and magazines will write horrible things about me and that's not even his so-called fans"
"So don't read it. That's if he even allows anything to be written about you. He's not the most forthcoming with information on Social Media. Have you not noticed?"
I shake my head.
"He doesn't post much about his private life at all." It would seem Allison has suddenly become the oracle on all things Harry Styles. "Has he said anything about telling the public?"
"Not really. I haven't spoken to him since the scan on Friday so his opinion might have changed but no, he just said he didn't know how his fans and stuff would react"
"Then its no ones business but yours and Harry's" Allison states matter of factly. "At the end of the day who needs to know what Harry's paying for and what he's not. That stuff is purely between you and him. Just stop stressing about things you don't need to. If he wants you to go private and he's willing to pay for it and it means you get more scans and appointments then just do it. Stop stressing the little shit." Allison smiles as she pulls me into her side and wraps her arm around my back.
*
I pad about in my pyjama shorts and a hoody, that's not as baggy as it used to be tidying up the living room before going to bed. Allison left earlier than usual because I couldn't stop myself yawning, but now that I'm alone I find myself obsessing over Allison's words. Am I too hung up on what others will think about me? Why do I assume everyone will judge me so harshly? Is it because I would judge me harshly if it wasn't happening to me? I never pegged myself as a judgemental person. I always thought I took people as I found them and I was pretty laid back about most things. I tried not to form opinions on people or issues until I had the full picture. It would seem I could afford others the luxury but not myself.
By the time my head hits the pillow that night, I have such a strong urge to speak to Harry. My bedroom is my second favourite room in the house. One wall is painted a dark dusky pink, the other three walls are left white. My bed is filled with fluffy pink and grey throws and scatter cushions. I need to go through the same ritual every night of throwing all the pillows on the floor before I can actually get into my bed. Allison tells me I should just stop putting them on, save myself the hassle, but the bed feels bare without them so I go through the same rigmarole every morning and night. I lie in bed, in the dark, staring at my black phone screen, planning in my head what I might say if I phoned him then I nearly pee myself as my phone screen lights up, vibrating in my hand, indicating a call from the one and only...
"Hello?" I answer, trying to calm my racing heart.
"Hey Nor' its not too late is it?" My stomach flips when his deep rumbley voice radiates through my chest. Giving me a pet name by shortening my already short name, does stupid things to the butterflies in my tummy.
"No, I was just considering phoning you" I admit as I pull the covers tighter around my body.
"Is everything ok?" He asks abruptly
"Yeah, everything's fine" I smile at the worry in his voice. "I..." But the words get lost in my throat. I don't actually know how to finish the sentence. I was going to say I missed him, but that's ridiculous to miss a man you've been in the company of three times.
"... I just hadn't heard from you in a few days. I was just checking in" I finish
"Oh ok, cool" I hear him sigh in relief. "So nothing new to report?"
"Nope, nothing new. I just... I was thinking tonight, I might take you up on the offer of going private" I make a snap decision
"Really? Are you sure?" I can hear the relief in his voice.
"Yeah. I think it might help us keep this whole thing more private and I don't like the idea of only having one more scan left when I'm not even half way through. That seems too long to not see the baby" I admit
"Yeah, leave it with me then and I'll set up an appointment. I think it means changing doctors and stuff is that ok?"
"Sure. I don't suppose it matters really" I shrug despite the fact Harry can't see me.
"Good, ok..." His voice trails off and I silently will him on to say whatever he was thinking.
After a beat he finishes "... Thanks Nora. I appreciate you agreeing to this. I know it might not seem like a big deal to you, but it gives me a bit more control over stuff... wow that sounds stupid" He sighs.
"No it doesn't" I counter. "Out of everyone here, you have the least control over everything. Its not a big deal to me. I'm happy either way, but if it makes you feel better or more at ease or whatever then I'm happy to do it"
"Thanks Nor" He breathes. "Maybe this whole thing won't be as hard as I thought it might be"
"What do you mean?" My interest is piqued as I roll over in bed and stretch out my leg into the suddenly glaringly obviously empty bed.
"Just... when you came to my house last week and dropped the bombshell... Well I obviously worried that this... between us... would be pretty difficult. You know, we don't know each other very well, we haven't known each other for long and suddenly were having a baby together which I think is probably the most intimate thing two people can do together. And I know we've still got a lot of stuff to decide and figure out but, I don't know, I think we might be able to manage it."
"I hope so" I whisper as the tears sting my eyes.
"Heyyy, I didn't upset you did I?" His melodic voice soothes me.
"No, no" I wipe the tears with the sleeve of my hoody that I'm still wearing. "I'm just a mess of hormones pretty much 24/7. I can flip from raging bitch to crying in a second"
"I'll bare that in mind" His deep chuckle is like a melody to my ears. I want to hear it again.
"I feel like we still have so much to learn about each other" I sigh my eyes closing to ward of the familiar sting of tiredness.
"Like what?" His low tone lulling me into a peaceful state.
"Everything. I barely know you, you don't know me. You're right, we're about to do the most personal thing 2 people can do together and you don't even know my middle name"
"What is it?" He asked suddenly
"What's what?" I my forehead crinkling in confusion.
"Your middle name. I bet it's something cool"
"Why do you think it would be cool?" I asked amused
"Dunno, Nora's quite a cool name, I imagine it's something pretty unique"
"Hmmm I guess so. It's Love"
"Nora Love Henley? See told you it would be cool!" His triumphant voice made me ache to see his face. I wanted to see the stupid grin that was probably spread across his face right now.
"You think? It's my mums maiden name. I used to think it was really cringey when I was growing up, but now I kind of love it"
"It's sweet" He tells me. "But in a cool way. Mines is Edward, slightly less cool"
"I knew that. Google is a wonderful thing" I laughed as I hear him huff.
"Ok rule number 1: Don't believe everything you read on Google, or in the paper, or on the internet"
"Why? Is your middle name not Edward?" I ask, knowing it is but trying to lighten the mood. His tone has suddenly gone very serious.
"It is. But I bet you could read a lot more stuff that wasn't true" He sighs. "Just promise you won't jump to conclusions about everything you see or hear about me. I'll always endeavour to be open and honest with you but please... just don't believe everything you read, okay?"
"Okay" I answer quietly.
"Ok, I've got to go. I'll text you tomorrow when I've set up the stuff with the doctors"
"Okay" I repeat. Suddenly feeling a bit lost. I don't know how the conversation suddenly took a nose dive but here I am suddenly questioning everything I said and what I said wrong.
"Goodnight Nora"
"Goodnight" I answer and the line goes dead. I toss the phone on my bedside table and, feeling despondent, I pull the covers around myself and after much tossing and turning I fall into a deep sleep. Dreaming about holding a baby with giggling green eyes and a fuzz of brown hair.