Elvis and I often talked about having children, but we certainly weren’t planning on having them right away. Then one day we were at the ranch. It was early afternoon and Elvis was still asleep. I lay in bed and felt a strange sensation in my stomach, a sensation I’d never felt before. I lay staring at the ceiling. No–it couldn’t be. Again, the same feeling. I slid out of bed. I’ll call Patsy, I thought. She’d know. I went to the phone in the next room.
“Patsy, when you found out you were pregnant, did you feel strange?”
“Strange like what?”
“You know. I mean, what did you feel?”
“Well, I missed my period.”
“But didn’t you feel something in your body, something strange?”
“I really don’t remember, Priscilla. Why?”
“Because I think I’m pregnant. I know I am. I’ve never felt this before.”
“Maybe it’s nerves.”
“No–I just have a funny feeling. I’ll talk to you later.”
I didn’t tell Elvis right away: I couldn’t. But he saw that I was quiet and preoccupied.
If I were pregnant, I knew that our plans to travel would have to be postponed. I wouldn’t be able to head off to some exotic locale and leave my child with nurses and maids. For the first year, I truly wanted to be alone with Elvis, without any responsibilities or obligations.
For a few days I was angry with Elvis. Before the wedding I asked him if I should start taking birth-control pills, but he had been adamantly against it.
“They’re not good for you. I really don’t want you taking them. They’re not perfected yet, Baby. There’s all kinds of side effects.”
A week passed before I told Elvis my suspicions. I expected him to react with the same mixed emotions I’d felt, but he was ecstatic. He made arrangements for me to see a doctor right away, accompanied me to the doctor’s office, and sat anxiously in the waiting room while I was examined.
When I came out I put my arms around him and said, “Guess what?”
“What? What?” He was barely able to contain himself.
“You’re going to be a daddy.”
He couldn’t believe it and immediately wanted to tell everyone. Just then his father, who had driven over with us, came into the room. Elvis grabbed him.
“Daddy, you won’t believe this. Cilla’s gonna have a baby. You’re gonna be a grandaddy.”
“Good Lord Almighty,” Vernon said, stunned. “You’re kiddin’ me.”
“No, Daddy. We’re telling you the truth.” Then Elvis teased him, saying, “You’re going to be a grey-haired grandaddy.”
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