Love Thy Neighbor

Chapter 38

A couple weeks after David's third weekend in Toronto, I realized I was late. I took a pregnancy test and it confirmed what I already knew. I was pregnant. I'd gone off the pill right after Shawn and I broke up. David and I were using condoms but were now part of the statistic that shows how unreliable this method of birth control can be. And of course I read and analyzed all the statistical research out there, trying to figure out how this happened to me.

I called him and told him. He said he'd catch the first possible flight after work on Friday. We talked for hours the night he arrived. We discussed every single option. I am solidly pro-choice, but I was having trouble with the idea of termination. I told him the next morning that I was keeping the baby. He surprised me by being overjoyed with my decision. He left to take a walk and came back several hours later with a beautiful diamond ring. He told me he'd never stopped loving me and that maybe this was fate's way of making sure we were together.

I got caught up in his proposal. He said everything a girl wants to hear. He promised me he would never hurt me or cheat on me. He also said we owed it to the baby to give it a family.

I said yes.

In April we were married in a very small ceremony in Quebec. Liz and Jules came, and even though both were disappointed in my decision, they didn't tell me then. I knew. I could tell in their eyes that they were worried. I think my parents felt the same way, but they wanted the baby to have two parents and they focused on that. Elsie was the only one who spoke up. Right before the wedding she grabbed both of my arms and said to me that if David was not my true love, I should not marry him. I should only marry my one true love. She never said his name, but I knew who she was referring to. I knew I'd never have him back, so I went through with it.

I stayed in Toronto until I graduated and then moved to David's tiny apartment in midtown Manhattan. I didn't look for a job since I'd be taking maternity leave over the winter. I'd have to postpone my career until the baby was old enough to go in daycare. So much for those dreams.

As soon as we were living together, it was clear that David and I were not compatible. We didn't really fight; we just had very little interest in each other. He never cheated on me, which I appreciate, but we just weren't in love. I think he'd said he loved me when he proposed, because he felt that marrying me was the right thing to do. We had a tear-filled night towards the end of my pregnancy where we made the decision to divorce.

I contacted my dad who contacted his lawyer. The lawyer found a loophole in Canadian law that states that you can get an annulment if you've had a "shotgun wedding." The lawyer felt we could fudge the truth a bit to qualify for this, and luckily enough, the courts agreed. We didn't have to divorce. An annulment meant that for all legal purposes, the marriage never happened.

It took months for all this to get worked out and during that time I gave birth to Delilah. She was a December baby, born during a blizzard.

I have to give David credit. He had legal documents drawn up that stated he would go above and beyond normal child support. He was willing to support our baby financially and agreed to pay for her childcare. I agreed to weekend visitation once she was weaned. In the meantime, he comes to see her each Saturday or Sunday. He loves his daughter, even if he's never really experienced raising her. That's not his fault, though. It's no one's fault that we could not stay together and raise her as a family.

Coincidentally, soon after Delilah (or Lila, as I call her) was born, Nana's townhouse in Brooklyn lost its renters because they were moving to Florida. My dad suggested I take over the house, so I did. I pay Elsie half of what we'd been charging in rent.

The house is perfect for me. It's three narrow finished levels. There's a staircase leading to the front door, which enters on the main level. The main level consists of a living room, half bath, kitchen/dining room. The dining room used to be a separate room, but when we did the renovations the kitchen and dining area were opened up into one big space. It makes the space much more open and light. On the second level there are three bedrooms and two baths. We'd added the en suite master bath at the same time as the kitchen renovation. The top level is a finished attic and has my home office. The basement is purely a utility and storage space. When I moved in, I made the place my own by painting the walls colors I love and furnishing it with the styles I liked. It's totally me which is what I love most about it.

Delilah is now nine months old. She has dark brown baby curls and light blue eyes. Her cheeks are perpetually rosy and she's chubby in that adorable baby way. I'm amazed that I made this perfect thing. She has a wonderful nanny named Marian who comes to the house three days a week and watches her while I work from home in my office. David got me a part-time job analyzing financial statistics for his company, Goldman Sachs. I work hard, only taking breaks to feed Lila a couple times each day, and I'm very good at what I do. I know I am fortunate to have a job that accommodates my needs as a mother. I'm also lucky that I saved up so much money during my internship and grad school. Without that nest egg, I'd struggle getting by on part-time work.

Quite honestly, most days I feel pretty fortunate. I've made several friends in the neighborhood. The friend I am closest to lives next door. Her name is Kendra, and she also works out of her home and also has a baby, though Jayson is a year old.

Kendra and I spend many evenings sitting out on our front steps, bouncing our babies on our knees, just talking. She's the only person in Brooklyn I have told about Shawn and the only person I have ever admitted to that I am still struggling with losing him. I'd told her that what hurt me most was that he never once reached out to me. I know I didn't reach out either, but I firmly believe that he had more to be sorry for. He was the one who tried to change the arrangement we'd agreed to, and he was the one who dumped me when I wouldn't accommodate him with that change.

If he had just said he was sorry, maybe things would be different for us today. But then again, if he had done that, I wouldn't have my precious daughter.