The Very Best Birthday Present...

So, I'm living up on Hollyridge with Max and my house-mate, Scott Firestone, dating Pen, and having a pretty great time.Work is good, Max is having a ball,Pen is sweet and always taking me to glamorous places....things feel like they're really clicking into place for me. And then, a week before my birthday, I had this funny feeling.

I had trained Max to climb up on the counter and make coffee for me in the mornings. (I know - that sounds pretty awful, doesn't it - but he really LIKED doing it. It made him feel grown up and important) I loved waking up to the smell of coffee brewing - and Max was the sweetest angel, putting just the right amount of cream in and bringing it to me in bed. I was always so grateful and gave him big hugs and kisses for his efforts. But this one morning in May, the coffee did not smell good at all. In fact, the smell of it was making me feel a little sick.I hid my distaste from Max so I wouldn't disappoint him - he loved our little ritual almost as much as I did - but the next couple of mornings were the same. Coffee, even the smell of it, was making me feel a queazy.
Then, later that week, the alarm bells really went off.I went out to dinner with Pen, and alcohol had the same effect on me. I recognized the symptoms.And I remember that dinner very well. It was the thursday night before my birthday, and Pen took me to this nice French restaurant that he knew I liked (even though he would have been happier with Taco Bell).

"So..you're birthday's coming up." he mentioned at the table.
"Yeeeeesssss...." I said. I had already planned a big party at my house that he knew all about and had friends coming to as well.
"And your party is on Saturday, right?"
"PEN! You KNOW it is - didn't you invite people?" I was going to be a little bummed if he had spaced this thing...
"Yes, yea. No - I'm just saying that SUNDAY is the real day, though, right? The 19th?"
"Well, yea - but you can't have people over for a party on Sunday. This is going to be a BIG party, Pen..." (It was my first BIG party in LA. I was in the mood to celebrate. I finally was making some money - and the pilot and, I wanted to do a BIG thing. I invited ALL of my friends.)
"No, no - I know about Saturday - and I did invite my people. I didn't forget. I was just wondering what you're doing on Sunday. The actual day..." Pen explained.
"Well, I guess I'm going to be cleaning up all day." I replied testily. I was getting more and more upset as the dinner went along. This was all so weird and unimportant. What I had on my mind was possibly EXTREMELY important.
"Ok, ok. I get that. But, do you think you can take a break from cleaning so I can give you your birthday present?"
I looked at him like he was nuts.
"It's not exactly a THING...I'll need about 3 hours."
I just kept looking at him like I didn't get it.
"I'll help you clean up - and I'll get a sitter for Max."he offered.
"ok. Fine." I agreed.
"Do you not like the wine I ordered?" Pen asked, noticing my untouched glass. He looked really nervous and I knew why. I had been giving off a crazy vibe all night. I took one look into his concerned face and burst into tears.
"What the heck is wrong, Jen?" Pen asked, "I just wanted to plan ahead a little, that's all - if you don't want to do the thing on Sunday,it's ok...I'll figure something else out."
I shook my head,'no' and tried to choke out what was on my mind. "Not that!" was all I managed at first. I got up and dashed to the lady's room, leaving Pen bewildered.By the time I had gotten myself together, cleaned up my face and returned to the table, Pen was signing the check.(thank goodness!)He looked so worried as we walked to the car. "And he damn well should be.." I thought. I grabbed his arm and held on tight, trying to let him understand that I wasn't angry at HIM. And anyway, it might be the last time he let me hang onto him that way.

Once we were in his car (the 69 convertible T-bird that night), I put my hand on his thigh and tried to face him with what I had to say. "I think we need to stop at the market on the way home." I said in a very somber whisper.
"O- kayyy..." (It was Pen's turn to look at ME like I was crazy)"What do we need to get at the market that has you bursting into tears at your favorite restaurant?"
"A pregnancy test."

It felt for a few moments like a silent bomb had been dropped into that car. Terrible, awful silence followed. Pen looked stunned. Just as I had feared. I braced myself for the yelling and the anger that I now assumed came after every such announcement. But there was none. Only silence, and Pen looking like he couldn't quite understand what I'd said - it seemed to be happening in slow motion.
"Or two..." I quipped, sheepishly. It worked.It broke the spell. Pen laughed, and then he said, "Wow."

As we walked into the glaring light of the store, Pen asked the usual questions. "Why do you think you might be?"
"Because coffee and alcohol make me sick.."
"How long have you been thinking this?"
"Just, like a week....or less."
"Well, is there anything else - any other symptoms?"
"Symptoms?" I asked.
"Signs."
"You know what....maybe it's nothing. Let's just do the test - then we'll know. It's probably nothing."


And then at my house that night, after Max was put to bed and we were trying to go sleep, "But you've been taking the pill, right?"
"Yep."
"Do you think you missed a day?"
"Entirely possible."
"Well, how could that happen?"
"I don't even know if I DID miss a day...I just said it's possible. Everything's been going so fast the last couple months - I've been racing around like crazy!"
"No, no. Ok. I get it. I wasn't accusing....just asking."
Then Pen snuggled up with me, and I was so grateful for that snuggle. All of my experience up until that point had taught me that if I came out of the bathroom the next morning and that damn stick had a pink plus sign on it - all hell would break lose. The man who was snuggling with me tonight might yell, might say horrible mean things to me, would probably break up with me, and worst of all, maybe - he would blame ME. Solely. As if I had done the thing by myself or plotted against him and done it on purpose. That's what MY experience had prepared me for.As IF I would do such a thing - NOW! My "career" seemed to have really just started to take off - and being preggers isn't so good for an actress. Actresses (especially young, blonde ones) are supposed to be thin and sexy and UN PREGNANT.I said a little prayer that night. It wasn't, "Please, God, don't let me be pregnant." It was, "Please, God, help me through whatever tomorrow brings. And help me do the right thing."

The next morning, I woke up super early. Pen woke right up, too. I went into the bathroom to pee on the stick, set it down gently on the bathroom counter, then tip toed back in to my bedroom to wait for twenty minutes (or whatever it was - it felt like an hour!)with Pen. He was sleepy and sweet. I was so scared I was shivering a little. I tried not to let him feel that. We had not said one word about what we would DO if the outcome of the test was positive.After that bloody endless wait, I slunk back into the bathroom as if the little plastic stick was a ticking bomb. I had sort of convinced myself that it was going to be a minus sign and that all of my craziness about the coffee was just that.

When I came back into the bedroom, Pen was wide awake, sitting up in bed.I had never seen him so wide awake early in the morning.
"Well, what is it?" he asked.
I shook my head, 'yes'.
"It's YES?" he asked, "It's positive, you're...?"
I shook my head 'yes' again, and waited for the yelling. But he didn't yell. He jumped up and ran into the bathroom. "Oh, great.." I thought, "he didn't understand me - or didn't believe it.."
But he did understand. He came back holding the plastic stick with the very CLEAR, BRIGHT pink plus sign showing in it's little window - AND HE DIDN'T LOOK MAD AT ALL.
"We're pregnant!" he said, tearing up and hugging me."We're going to have baby!"

Well, you could have blown me away with a feather. You really could. Pen's reaction was just about as opposite of anything I had imagined as it could possibly be. He smiled, he cried - he seemed overjoyed. I just couldn't believe it.

All day long, Pen kept calling me from work. He said things like, "I'm going to be a father! I'm so happy!" and "This is the happiest day of my life, Jennifer!" and,"I'm going to buy a VAT of Champagne and tell everyone at your party! ...if it's ok with you!", then he'd call back in 5 minutes and say, "And cigars! I'm buying cigars! Jennifer - thank you! This is the happiest day of my life!"
Most of the time I could hear him break into tears at some point during the call.
It was the very best birthday present he could ever give me - a couple days early, but that's ok. He gave me my daughter, Isabella Mary Pendleton, for my birthday that year. And I DO believe it was the happiest day of his life.

For that alone (and there is more) - I will always love him.