FALLING STARS
Chapter Twenty-Five

In the weeks that followed, Rose continued to feel unwell. The upset stomach and faintness she had experienced even before she learned of her son’s death continued, with unpleasant mood swings now added to the problem.

Rose continued to ignore the symptoms, attributing them to the heat, her age, and her grief over the loss of her son. No one else seemed to be affected in quite such a way, but she paid no attention to that.

One morning early in July, Ruth came to visit, and immediately noticed that Rose was still feeling poorly. Rose had been waving off her mother’s concerns since May, and Ruth hadn’t pushed her about it. Now, however, with Rose still feeling ill, Ruth was growing concerned. Rose might be forty-nine years old, but she was still Ruth’s baby.

"You’re still not feeling well, I take it?" Ruth asked as they sat down for tea. Rose sipped her tea, nibbled on a cookie, and then pushed everything away.

"I’m fine, Mother. I’ve just been upset. I’ll feel better soon enough."

"I know that you’ve been grieving over Adam, Rose, but you’ve been feeling unwell since before he died."

Rose shrugged. "It probably has something to do with my age. The heat is bothering me more this summer than it ever did before."

"I’m twenty-five years older than you, and the heat doesn’t give me this kind of trouble."

"I think it’s the change of life. I’m at the age where that happens."

"Forgive me for being skeptical, dear, but as one who went through that long ago, I don’t think that’s what’s bothering you." Ruth took a sip of her tea. "You’re acting more like a pregnant woman than one who is experiencing the change of life."

"Mother!" Rose had started to pick up her tea, but set it back down again. "I am not--I repeat, not--pregnant. I’m much too old for that. Besides, if I was, I think I would recognize it. I have had six children."

"You haven’t had a baby in fifteen years, and you might have forgotten some things. Besides that, you might not be too old. My friend Elizabeth Phillips had a child when she was fifty-one. These things do happen."

"Mother, really." Rose blushed. "I’ve started into the change of life, I’m sure. I haven’t...haven’t bled since April."

"And you’ve been feeling unwell since May."

"Exactly." Then Rose’s eyes widened, as she realized the implications of her words. "Oh, my..."

"Perhaps, Rose, you should go see a doctor."

*****

A week later, Rose walked into the office of the family doctor, Dr. Meyer. He had been the doctor for the Dawson family since 1927, and Rose trusted his opinion.

Dr. Meyer was a tall, brown-haired man in his late forties, and he had treated different members of the family for various illnesses and injuries over the years, as well as delivering Rose’s youngest son, Andrew.

"What seems to be the problem, Mrs. Dawson?"

"I haven’t been feeling well in a while, since around the middle of May, in fact."

"What’s been happening?"

"I’ve been feeling faint at times, and also nauseous, especially in the mornings. I’ve been having some mood swings, too. I thought it was the change of life, but my mother thinks that I might be with child. I think that I’m too old, but..."

"Well, why don’t we try to find out?"

Rose lay back on the examining table, allowing Dr. Meyer to complete his examination. Finally, he had her sit back up.

"Well, what is it?" she asked. "Am I going to live?"

He smiled. "Yes, you’re going to live, and you should feel better soon."

"So..."

"You’re pregnant," he told her.

Rose wasn’t entirely surprised, not after the conversation with her mother, but it still seemed odd to her. She shook her head.

"I can’t be."

"You are."

Rose still protested. "I’m forty-nine years old. I’m a grandmother, for crying out loud! I have half-grown grandchildren. Grandmothers don’t have babies."

"Are you unhappy about being pregnant?"

Rose touched her stomach thoughtfully, then shook her head. "No. I’m just...surprised is all. I thought I was too old for that."

"Until you’ve completed the menopause--until your menstrual cycles have stopped for at least a year--there is the possibility that you can still conceive. And you’re not the first young grandmother to have a baby, nor, I expect, will you be the last."

Rose was still somewhat stunned. "A baby...I never expected this."

"Does your husband have any idea of what’s been happening?"

"Of course, but I don’t think he realized..." Rose’s face broke into a smile. "This is wonderful. Oh, I just can’t believe it. Another baby, after all these years..." She sobered somewhat. "Do you think that there could be problems, with my age and everything?"

"It’s possible, but most women who give birth at your age have normal, healthy children, with few problems. However, I would like you to come in here more often than you did when you had Andrew, just to be on the safe side."

Rose nodded. "I will. Thank you, Dr. Meyer." She started to climb down from the examining table, then stopped. "When should the baby be born?"

"Around late January, early February is my best guess."

"I’ll be almost fifty then."

"That’s why I want to keep an eye on you during your pregnancy. You are older than most women who give birth, but chances are you’ll have a normal pregnancy and a healthy child. You don’t seem to be experiencing any complications so far."

"No, nothing worse than when I had my other children. When should I make my next appointment?"

"In about three weeks."

"Can I bring my husband along?"

"If you want." Dr. Meyer was more liberal than many doctors when it came to the issue of fathers and childbearing, unlike Dr. Mitchell, who had delivered Gregory thirty-one years before. He hadn’t objected when Jack had insisted upon being present for Andrew’s birth, and he wouldn’t object to Jack’s presence at the examinations now.

Rose broke into an excited skip when she left the doctor’s office and headed for her car. She stopped a moment, feeling sheepish, reminding herself that forty-nine-year-old women didn’t skip. But forty-nine-year-old women didn’t usually have babies, either, and she was happier than she had been in weeks.

Rose resumed skipping, ignoring the stares of passers-by, and drove home humming happily to herself.

*****

Rose waited until late in the evening to tell Jack what she had learned. She wanted him to be the first know.

Once they were alone in their room, Rose crawled into bed and snuggled close to Jack, brushing a strand of now-silvery hair from his face. At fifty-two, Jack was still strong and fit, and Rose thought he was still the most handsome man she had ever seen. The streaks of silver in his hair and the lines around his eyes only added to his allure, as far as she was concerned.

Jack pulled her close, giving her a slightly amused look. Rose had been smiling all evening, laughing happily at anything that entertained her, but she had refused to say why. She had just kept giving him secretive looks. Andrew had looked at her as though she were crazy, but, at fifteen, Andrew often found both of his parents embarrassing. Heidi had spent the entire evening on the phone with one of her friends, discussing a young man she had met who had been sent home from the war because of injury, and hadn’t noticed her mother’s lively mood.

"Okay, Rose. You’ve been dancing around all evening. What’s gotten you so happy?"

Rose smiled, reaching for his hand and placing it on her still-flat middle. "I went to the doctor this morning..."

"And?"

"And we’re going to have another baby."

"We’re going to...what?!"

"We’re going to have a baby."

"A baby? Are you sure?"

Rose nodded. "I’m sure. Dr. Meyer confirmed it."

"How long have you suspected?"

"Since last week, when Mother said that she thought I was acting like a pregnant woman. I didn’t quite believe her, but I guess she was right."

"A baby...this is quite a surprise. We haven’t had a baby in fifteen years. Good Lord, this child is going to be younger than some of our grandchildren."

"I know. I thought I was too old to have more children, but I guess I was wrong." Rose rested her hands on her stomach. "It almost seems like a miracle, having a baby now. We just lost one of our children, and suddenly we’re having another."

Jack ran a hand over Rose’s belly, looking pensive. "Jack?" Rose whispered.

"What?"

"Are you sorry...that we’re having a baby?"

He shook his head. "No. I’m just surprised, is all. It is amazing, having another child now. I am a little worried, though. You haven’t given birth in fifteen years, and you are older than many women who give birth..."

"I know, but I’m glad to be having this child. I never thought that it would happen, but now that it has, I’m glad. I think that if it wasn’t meant to happen, it wouldn’t have."

"Maybe you’re right. Another baby, after all this time...and at our age."

"Well," Rose told him, smiling, "I’m sure you’re not the first older father, and I have been told that it does sometimes happen that women my age give birth. I think that everything will be fine."

"I hope so." He kissed her, then moved away a bit.

"What are you doing?"

"I think I’d best keep my hands to myself. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize your chances of having a healthy baby."

"I’ve been with child since May, and our making love hasn’t caused any problems before." Rose pulled him back towards her. "It’s fine, Jack. It didn’t cause problems with our other children, and I don’t think it will cause any problems now."

They moved closer together, their lips meeting in a gentle, loving kiss, their hands moving over each other as their passions rose.

"After all," Rose whispered, "this is how we got this child."

Chapter Twenty-Six
Stories