Another mercifully short chapter; after all this time they don’t get easier to read.
Ana has just been told that she is pregnant and…dramatic soap opera-style fade to black.
The chapter starts like this:
“I gape at Dr. Greene, my world collapsing around me.”
You just know it’s only going to get better from here. I’m predicting lots of wailing and gnashing of teeth; lots of dramatic, eye-scratching overreacting. I mean think about it. Ana’s filthy rich. Filthy stinking rich. She doesn’t need to work, she can afford the best medical care (this is the USA after all), and a whole fleet of servants to raise her child for her.
So really that’s a pretty minimal interruption to the Crazy-making Gaslight Sex Show they have going on here.
But Ana is overcome with a serious case of the vapours after hearing the news. She has to sit down, and drink a glass of water. The only thing she can think to do is whisper, “Shocked.” When she regains something of her composure she asks Dr. Greene how this happened, “I thought this was a reliable form of contraception.”
Dr. Greene answers this in the only sensible way. With smug sarcasm.
“It normally is, when you remember to have the shot.”
Of course, being the patient focused modern thinking doctor that she is, Doctor Greene lays out all Ana’s options. The options are: having an ultrasound to check how far along she is, and getting a prescription for prenatal vitamins. Those are the options. ALL THE OPTIONS. It’s that kind of book.
So Ana has the ultrasound, and it isn’t just any ultrasound, it’s an ultra-sexy, totally unnecessary transvaginal ultrasound. For Science. Ana reacts to being vaginal probed by thinking, Holy Fuck!
Thaaat’s disturbing. They never explain just exactly what she means by that, and that’s prooobably for the best. So, long story short, Ana sees the little bundle of barely differentiated cells on the ultrasound and is immediately in love. In LOVE.
But wait! She’s also torn! Ambivalent, even! Because she thinks she should be at least 30 before having kids. Why? The reason women put off children is to further their careers and win some financial security. But Ana’s husband just bought her a company. So that’s not an issue. Biologically she’s exactly the right age to have kids. Not too young, not too old.
And also, Christian will be mad. Oh yeah. That guy. He’s always mad, so who cares?
Ana doesn’t know what to do with herself now, so she heads off to work and tries to pin the blame on her assistant for moving her appointments without telling her. Then she does what every red-blooded American does when faced with a problem: she has a cup of tea.
Then we interrupt our emo-feels-fest for some email. Christian is playful and happy for once, and Ana gives him the cold shoulder. Christian asks Ana what is wrong and she tells him she’s “fine.”
Uh-oh guys! We know what that means!
At the end of the day Christian is ‘wary’ when he picks her up at work. We all know that when a woman says she’s fine it’s woman code for “Holy crap is everything ever wrong and you’d better guess what it is or else!” Ana continues to pretend there’s no problem as they go to visit Ray. Nothing of note happens, but as they are leaving Ana promises to come back the next day. In her head she thinks, “That’s provided Christian hasn’t locked you away…or worse.”
Or worse? What does she think he’s going to do? Kill her? Is that not some kind of red flag?
At home Ana refuses to eat, and Christian, finally sick of the head games, demands to know what the flying fuck is wrong. Ana tells him that she is pregnant, and it turns out all her worrying was for good reason. Christian. Flips. The fuck. Out.
He spends an entire page screaming at Ana, swearing and berating her. He calls her stupid; he accuses her of doing it on purpose; he drops dozens of F-bombs. Finally, he shouts, “Oh, fuck this!” and storms out.
Mrs. Jones comes to comfort Ana, having heard the ruckus. Ana asks her for a glass of wine, but Mrs. Jones gives her the hairy eye and she asks for tea instead. Mrs. Jones tries to push food on her, reminding her she’s eating for two now. But Ana refuses. She texts Christian, but he doesn’t reply. Ana hunkers down in the foyer and waits for him to come back. And he does come back, drunk as a skunk because we’re operating by the Relationship Cliché Playbook here.
Oddly enough, Ana realises that Christian is a lot nicer drunk and less of an asshole. She gets him sort of undressed and into bed. He passes out after having made some encouraging remarks about the baby. Everything is just about to end on a quasi-positive note!
Then Christian’s BlackBerry buzzes and, like every attentive wife, Ana reads his text message. It’s a text from that bitch-troll-whore-queen, Elena, aka Mrs. Robinson(!) thanking Christian for the “visit” and telling him not to fret as he’ll make a wonderful father.