Disclaimer: I don't own Desperate Housewives and never will. No copyright infringement intended.
When Bree started feeling sick three weeks after the plane crash, she figured it was the stress finally getting to her. The love of her life was dead after all, and she was stuck in a loveless marriage out of guilt. Taking care of Orson was exhausting her.
However, when she found herself getting emotional over bburning popcorn/b, Bree knew something was up. She had a nagging feeling in the back of her mind about what this was, but wasn't sure. Yes, Lynette had got pregnant at forty-nine with twins, but she was ififty-three/i years old! What she was thinking couldn't possibly be it.
Bree ran to the grocery store out of town to buy a few pregnancy tests. She couldn't believe she was even considering the possibility. She was too old to be pregnant!
While Orson napped in the bedroom, Bree waited for the results of the three pregnancy tests she had bought. "Come on, be negative. Just be the flu," she whispered to herself.
When it was time to look, Bree's nerves got to her. She reached for one of the tests, but quickly pulled her hand away. She worked up the courage to look less than five minutes later. All three tests were giving her the same result – Bree Hodge was definitely pregnant. She was having a baby at fifty-three years old!
Bree sat down on the toilet and began to sob. What was she going to do? She had never expected to get pregnant at her age. The baby's father was dead. She was still married to a man she didn't love anymore. "Please tell me what to do. I don't know how to handle this," Bree pleaded. She wished Karl was with her right now. He would calm her down and help her.
"Bree, I need you!" Orson called from the bedroom. He was letting his wife take care of him because she wanted to. He still loved her, but held no more illusions about their marriage. He and Bree were still heading towards divorce.
"Coming!" Bree called back. She took a deep breath to calm herself down and stop the sobs. She needed to pretend that she was fine. Bree also needed to call her doctor and make an appointment to discuss this.
When Bree walked into Orson's room, the mask was in place. She tried to pretend that nothing was wrong and that everything was okay. Far from it, actually, but Bree wasn't about to let Orson see that side of her.
"I'm hungry. Can I have a grilled cheese sandwich?" Orson questioned as he maneuvered himself into his wheelchair. He didn't notice that Bree had been crying, even though her eyes were puffy.
"Of course you can!" Bree plastered a fake smile on her face and headed towards the kitchen to start making Orson dinner. Hopefully, cooking would take her mind off the news she had just received and was still in denial about.
"You look pale," Orson suddenly observed as he followed her into the kitchen. She had been acting odd lately, and he had no clue why.
"I'm fine," Bree lied. Everything was okay. She was probably just going through menopause or something. The doctor would set her straight after she went to an appointment she still needed to make.
Orson shrugged and wheeled into the living room to watch some TV. If Bree said she was fine, then she was fine. "I hope you go the right kind of cheese, Bree!"
Bree struggled not to burst into sobs again. Karl wouldn't have believed her lie, and he'd have asked her what was wrong. She had been comparing Karl and Orson for a long time now. It wasn't fair to either of them, but it just kept happening. "Get ahold of yourself, Bree. You don't need to fall apart now," she told herself.
"Thank you, Bree." Orson took the plate off Bree, and continued to watch TV. He didn't notice that she wasn't eating.
"You're welcome, Orson." Bree was too nauseated to even think of eating right now, so she decided to call her doctor and make an appointment. "Yes, I can come in at 2:00," she informed the receptionist, checking her calendar. After hanging up, Bree sat down on her stool and just stared at the wall. She needed someone to talk to. Keeping this a secret (If she was even pregnant after all) would kill Bree.
"What are you doing?" Orson asked when Bree got up and headed out the door. Bree hadn't gone out and left like this since he had returned from the hospital.
"Going to see Susan. I'll be back later. Don't worry!" Susan was the first person that Bree had thought of talking to about this. Lynette was pregnant, but she and Tom were still dealing with the loss of one of the twins, Patrick. She didn't want to bother them with this.
Bree pushed the doorbell a few times until Susan answered. "What's up?" Susan questioned. She could tell that her friend was clearly upset about something. It was probably something to do with Karl. Susan knew that the two had loved each.
"I need to talk to you," Bree informed her and dissolved into sobs. She hoped she wasn't like this for the next few months, if she was even pregnant at all. The receptionist had been surprised about why Bree called, but it seems like she really hadn't believed it.
"Come on in, sweetie." Susan led Bree to the couch. Mike and MJ were playing a game on the floor. When Mike saw how upset Bree was, he ushered his son into the kitchen to give the two women some privacy.
"Thank you," Bree sobbed. She couldn't exactly get the words out yet, but was glad that Susan was there for her.
"What's wrong?" Susan rubbed Bree's back to calm her down. This definitely seemed like a Karl thing to her. She had been watching her friend like a hawk for weeks, and it was obvious that Karl's death had devastated Bree.
Bree continued to cry for a few more minutes before she was able to work up the courage to tell Susan what was going on. "I haven't been feeling well for a few days. At first I blamed it on Karl's death, but I had a nagging feeling in the back of my head that it was something else. So I went to the store and bought three pregnancy tests. I figured they'd all come out negative, but they were positive. I'm pregnant! At fifty-three years old, I'm knocked up and having the love of my life's baby. And he's dead!" It was still so hard to believe.
Susan stared at her friend in shock. Bree was pregnant with Karl's baby? And to top it off, she was in his fifties! She pushed her shock back to take care of the clearly upset Bree. "Oh, sweetie. I'm so sorry. What are you going to do?"
Bree shrugged. "I don't even know! I made an appointment with my doctor tomorrow. I'm probably overreacting and I'm not even pregnant. I'm stuck taking care of a man I no longer love out of guilt. And I don't know what to do."
Susan pulled her in for a hug. "Do you want me to go with you tomorrow?" Luckily for her, she had the day off work. And being there for Bree was one of her priorities right need. She clearly needed her help.
"If you want to. I don't want to be alone." Bree hated being this emotional about this, but she couldn't help it. Her emotions had been out of whack since Karl's death. Maybe that was the reason for all three positive pregnancy tests.
Susan helped Bree return home about an hour later, and vowed to watch out for her if she was pregnant. She'd do it anyway, since Bree was worrying her. She had been off ever since learning the news of Karl's death. "I think we're going to be seeing a lot more of Bree than we usually do in the next few months," she informed Mike.
"Why?" asked a confused Mike. He had found out about Bree and Karl after he had died, and the pairing still confused him.
"You wouldn't understand. And Bree probably doesn't want anyone to know yet." Of course, Bree was in deep denial about possibly be pregnant, despite the three positive pregnancy tests. Susan still had a hard time believing it.
"Whatever." Mike and Susan read a few stories to MJ before he fell asleep, and the two headed for their own bedrooms.
"What took you so long?" Orson asked when Bree entered the house. He was upset that she had been gone for so long.
Bree glared at him, but then faked smiled at her husband. "No reason. Susan and I just had some girl talk for awhile. Nothing that concerns you." She hated this so much.
Orson rolled his eyes. Bree and her girl talked annoyed him sometimes. He returned to his bedroom, while Bree decided to bake some brownies to calm down.
After finishing up the dishes and putting away the brownies, Bree was so exhausted she fell asleep on the couch.
She woke up feeling nauseated. The redhead rushed to the bathroom to throw up. She stayed there for a few hours, before remembering that crackers curbed nausea.
"Do you have the flu?" Orson was slightly concerned about his wife. He didn't want to get sick himself. That wouldn't be good right now, especially since he had just come home from the hospital.
"I think so. I made an appointment with my doctor today," Bree told him. She munched on a cracker. The nausea definitely seemed to be fading now. She was grateful for remembering that crackers helped.
"Good." Orson wheeled himself out of the kitchen to go do whatever it is he wanted to do. Bree really didn't care what he did.
At 1:30, Susan picked Bree up and the two women headed to the doctor's office. "Thank you for taking me," Bree told Susan.
"You're welcome. And it's no big deal. I want to be there for you." Susan would do her best to help Bree if she was pregnant.
Bree smiled at her, and the two entered the office. Bree signed in, and waited to be called back. She was extremely nervous. And still nauseated, but the packet of crackers in her pocket were helping with that a little.
Susan followed Bree into a room about fifteen minutes after they arrived. "So you got three positive pregnancy tests?" asked the doctor.
Bree nodded. "Yes, I did. But I'm fifty-three. I'm pre-menopausal. I don't even know how this is possible."
"It's rare, but can definitely happen. I'll do a few tests, just to see if you are pregnant. If so, I'll make you an appointment with a high risk obstetrician."
A little while hour, Bree had her answer. "So am I pregnant?" she asked. She was terrified to hear the answer, but Susan grabbed Bree's hand to calm her down.
The doctor nodded. "Congratulations, Mrs. Van de Kamp. You're definitely pregnant. I believe you're about four weeks along."
Bree stared at him. "I'm really pregnant?" She still couldn't believe it. This was definitely Karl's baby. She and Orson hadn't had sex in a long time.
"Yes, you are. I'll make you an appointment with a high risk obstetrician immediately, to get in you as soon as possible. This pregnancy will be closely monitored. You and the baby will be taken care of."
Susan led Bree out to the car. She was also in shock. She couldn't believe both Lynette and Bree were pregnant, especially considering their ages. "I'll be there with you every step of the way. I'll even be with you in the delivery room." She could help Bree out while she was in labor. It wasn't that big of a deal.
When Bree returned home, she was too tired and nauseated to cook. She ordered pizza for Orson, and then went up to her bedroom to take a nap.
Bree was going to have a lot to deal with in the next eight months.
She had a long road ahead of her.
I did some research before starting this fic, and it is possible to conceive naturally at Bree's age. I hope you like this fic. I finished writing it, so there should be an update everyday. This is chapter one of six.