22. Oops
OOPS
For the next month, my family went into wedding planning mode. Since Lena and I had never been engaged or married, preparation became a family affair. Cairo and I decided to have a big December wedding since I would be off for several weeks during the winter holiday.
Despite having a better relationship with the Liberation University board, I still bristled against their antiquated ideas and demands. That, coupled with federal mandates that caused budget cuts that could shut us down one day, had me ready to throw this job in the dumpster.
A month and a half after Cairo’s press conference, my appetite diminished, and I could no longer sleep at night.
I meditated, prayed, and did everything to calm down, but nothing worked.
I even broke out into cold sweats at random times.
Within a month, I’d lost most of the weight I gained during the first months of my presidency.
“Babe, please go to the doctor,” Cairo begged. “I don’t want to scare you, but I’ve gone through sickness with one wife. I don’t want to bury another. Your job is stressful, so if you need to make changes to live your best life, please do it before it’s too late.”
The angst in Cairo’s voice moved and convicted me. I was used to being an independent woman, but it wasn’t fair to avoid a visit to the doctor when I had signs that something was off with my body.
“You’re right. All I need is to get a disease and die after finally finding happiness. Since Black women presidents drop like flies in this country, I’ll contact Dr. Knowles.”
I called my family doctor but couldn’t get an appointment until the next week.
My appetite was still off when Cairo accompanied me to my visit.
They drew blood and urine samples, making me feel as if I was a lab rat.
I fidgeted on the examination table, preparing myself for any number of diagnoses.
Although Cairo put on a brave face, I could tell he was worried.
He sat close to the examination table and squeezed my hand.
“Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together.
Since I’ll have more time at the end of the season, I can do more around the house and be close when you need me.
Maybe Whitney can take some tasks off your calendar too.
And we can take a long vacation anywhere you want to go. We’ve got this. Whatever it is.”
I smiled and lowered my head, praying silently until Dr. Knowles entered the room. Her solemn look concerned me.
“Give it to me straight,” I said.
“Did you say you’re getting married in December?”
My eyes bucked, and Cairo stared at the doctor.
“Yes. Should we move the date up for some reason?” His question soothed and frightened me at the same time.
“Only if you want your baby to be in your arms at your wedding.”
My heart dropped.
“A baby?” Cairo’s voice boomed across the room.
“What? That’s impossible.” I shook my head and laughed in Dr. Knowles’s face, startled by her outlandish diagnosis.
“Have you been using protection during sex?” she asked with pursed lips and folded hands, looking like an old-school teacher reprimanding her students.
“Of course. I wouldn’t risk a pregnancy in my position. My life is too busy for that,” I said, looking at Cairo to back me up.
“Every time, Zora?” The doctor furrowed her brow as if I was trying to deceive her.
“Yes,” I repeated, this time with even more confidence. “I hope other tests can give you a better answer.”
“Uh…we didn’t use protection every time.” Cairo shook his head and held his chin in his hands.
My head whipped toward him.
“What do you mean no? I never let you nut up in me without a condom.”
“Remember that time you…” He raised his eyebrows up and down and cocked his head sideways several times as if I could magically recall whatever he tried to tell me.
“No!” I shouted, shaking my head at Cairo’s ridiculousness. “You’re wrong. We have lots of sex, Cairo, and I’m always cautious.”
“Remember the day after my injury? In my bed? When you were angry…” His wide eyes stayed on me until the memory of our make-up sex romp flooded back.
Oh no.
“I straddled you, and you came in me raw. I didn’t get a Plan B because I fell asleep. Damn. Damn. Damn.” I clapped my fist against my palm.
Dr. Knowles clapped her hands and pointed at me.
“That’ll do it. A fertile woman gets pregnant when she doesn’t use protection.” My doctor smiled at me like she said something worthy of her big, goofy grin.
“You know what? This can’t be happening.” I pressed my hand over my stomach and shook my head, tears welling up in my eyes. “Cairo, no.”
He got out of his chair and wrapped his arms around me. I pressed my head in the crevice of his shoulder and chest and placed my hands on his back. I closed my eyes and cried real tears. Cairo rubbed my back until I calmed down. He held my shoulders and stepped back before kissing my forehead.
“Let’s hear the doctor out.” He turned toward Dr. Knowles. “How far along is she?”
“From what you said about the date of your last period, I’m guessing around eight weeks.
I’ll refer you to your ob-gyn to get those answers for sure.
No matter what you choose, our team is available to support you.
” Dr. Knowles smiled and squeezed my knee.
“You can make that appointment at the receptionist’s desk. Congratulations to both of you.”
With that, Dr. Knowles said goodbye and exited.
I wiped my eyes with the pads of my fingers and stared at Cairo. His stillness calmed me and made me nervous at the same time. I rubbed my temples.
“What are we going to do?”
“Have a baby.”
I dropped my hands. He grabbed and squeezed them.
“Have a baby?”
He kissed my lips.
“Yes.”