Chapter 48 Raya
Raya
It’s time, apparently.
My legs are up in stirrups, knees wide, my whole lower body on display to anyone that happens to walk into the room. I feel like a rotisserie chicken or something. It’s so undignified.
Ace is right by my side. Dr. Bernard is between my legs snapping on fresh gloves.
“We’re gonna push on the next contraction, okay?”
Oh, are we? We?
Anyway, I nod and brace myself, lowkey irritated that they muted the TV. I was trying to see what Julia Roberts was gonna say to break up that damn wedding. I’m rooting for homegirl.
“You’re doing good, babe.”
I look up at Ace and shrug. “I can’t feel much.”
“You’re still doing good. Did you want anybody else in here? Tori?”
“No. Just you.”
He nods, squeezing my hand so tight, I feel like I need an epidural for my fucking fingers.
“Ace. My hand.”
“Oh! Sorry.” His voice is shaky. “I’m nervous.”
“Contraction starting,” the nurse calls, her eyes on the monitor. “Take a deep breath, hold it, and push.”
I bear down and…I think I’m pushing. Everybody’s encouraging me, so I must be doing something.
“You got this,” Ace says. “Keep pushing.”
My face burns and my throat hurts. I want water, but evidently, that’s forbidden. But it’s giving me motivation. After I push Ace’s fucking baby out, I can have a nice, cold bottle of water.
I push harder.
“Great job,” Dr. Bernard says. “This baby has a lot of hair. Dad, come look.”
Ace drops my hand and peers between my legs, his smile big and heartbreaking. I wish I could feel what he’s feeling, but I don’t.
“Okay, you can rest for a minute, Raya. Very good.”
My eyes go to the television. I think Julia got her man. Oh, wait. No, he’s chasing after Cameron Diaz. What the fuck, Julia? You didn’t close the deal? Who wrote this fucking script?
“Raya.”
My eyes shift to my husband. “Yes?”
“You okay?”
“I’m good.” I gesture at the tv. “Just distracting myself.”
He looks concerned, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Alright, here comes another contraction. Let’s push!”
This goes on for a while, a boring cycle of pushing and resting. Time blurs past.
I’m starting to sweat now. My hair is coming loose and sticking to my neck. It’s very uncomfortable.
“This might be the one,” Dr. Bernard finally says. "Dad, do you want to catch the baby?”
He moves down next to her and blows out a breath. “I’m ready.”
“Alright, Raya. Deep breath. Hold. Push.”
I’m so ready to get this shit over with. I bear down with all my strength, squeeze my eyes shut, and push.
“There we go! Good job, mom. He’s here.”
He?
It’s a boy?
“Babe. He’s perfect.”
I barely even hear Ace. Now, the baby’s crying, and so am I. I just realized at this moment that I must have wanted a girl.
“Okay, cut right there, Ace. Good job, Dad. We’re gonna clean him off, and then you can take him to Mom.”
He’s back by my side, but his eyes are glued to the baby.
It’s already starting.
When he finally pays attention to me, I see he has tears in his eyes. We both burst into tears when our eyes lock, but for different reasons, I’m sure.
“Seven pounds, four ounces!” the nurse calls from the other side of the room.
“He has all his fingers and toes,” Ace reassures, and I frown at that, because I wasn’t aware it was possible that he wouldn’t.
I should have read those books Ace got me.
He leans down to kiss my forehead, then presses his against it. “You did so good. You know that?”
“I guess.”
“Here you go, Dad.”
The nurse hands Ace the baby, and I get my first look at him.
He has a ton of hair, jet black and sleek. He’s a little lighter than the both of us, but I’m thinking his color will come in soon enough. I’ve seen a few pictures of myself as a baby and I was pale, too.
He’s…not cute. Not yet. But most babies are ugly in the beginning. He’s quiet and alert. That’s good, I guess.
“Put him on her chest. It’s good to get skin to skin contact.”
Ace doesn’t ask, he just kinda thrusts the baby into my arms. I wanna tell everybody to slow down, let me breathe, give me a minute to process, but I guess that’s not a luxury new mothers get. So I take my baby and pretend I’m happy.
He’s nice and warm, at least. I stare down at him, then up at my husband, shaking my head before I can stop it.
“What’s wrong?” he asks softly.
I shake my head again. He wouldn’t understand. I don’t even understand.
I wish he was a girl.
Ace is crying again, but he’s trying to play it cool.
“Should I let Tori in?”
“You can.”
But what’s that gonna do?
Dr. Bernard is back between my legs.
“Raya, you’re gonna feel some pressure and some pulling. Try to relax.”
I nod.
Then a big glob of red comes out, and I almost gag. Then the nurse comes and starts boxing my fucking stomach.
They say childbirth is a beautiful thing, but I haven’t seen it yet. It’s been gross, annoying, intrusive, and disappointing in every way.
And of course Cameron Diaz got the fucking guy. Julia, you red-headed bitch. You disappointed me, too.
“I just stitched you up,” Dr. Bernard announces. “You tore some, but it’s not too bad.”
“Okay. Thank you,” I say awkwardly.
“Mom? Do you want to try breastfeeding?”
I hesitate. “Right now?”
“Yes. He’s rooting.”
I look down at him and see what she means.
“Okay.”
Because that just makes practical sense, I think. Formula’s expensive as hell. In this economy, why wouldn’t I tap into a free food source?
The nurse helps me get him latched on.
“There’s not gonna be milk at first, but it’s still good that he latched on. He can get the colostrum. Very healthy for the baby.”
“Great.”
My skin’s crawling. I don’t know what it is, but this feels weird. My brain is screaming at me to get this thing off me, but I hold him tighter instead. I can’t let the intrusive thoughts win. I can push through this. That’s what I’m supposed to do.
I smile when Ace comes back in with my aunt, because that’s also what I’m supposed to do.
“How are you feeling?” she asks me. “Oh my God, he’s beautiful.”
Fine, thanks.
“What’s his name?”
I look up at Ace. “What do you think?”
“Remember, we said Arlo for a boy and Amber for a girl.”
I don’t remember at all, but I nod. “Arlo is fine.”
It sounds weird to me, like when you say a word too many times and it doesn’t sound like a word anymore. But it’s fine. I don’t care one way or the other.
I don’t know what it is about seeing Ace carrying that damn car seat, but damn. I wanna climb him right now.
I can’t, though. Dr. Bernard said I have to wait six weeks, and now that the epidural is gone, I’m acutely aware of just how much damage the fucking baby did on his way out.
That little motherfucker wreaked havoc on my coochie.
And I’m cramping like it’s the first day of my period and bleeding into an adult diaper.
I’m still waiting on the beautiful part.
Somebody came to our house while I was gone. There’s a bassinet by our bed now. Bottles on the counter. Tiny socks and onesies and a changing table and blankets everywhere. It’s a whole new world, and there’s a whole new person here. I’m not sure I like it.
I get myself settled on the couch while Ace takes the baby out of the car seat. He’s crying now, yet again, so I guess that means he’s hungry. I get him latched on, then stare into space while Ace patters around straightening up and…whatever else. I’m not paying attention.
“Here, I’ll burp him.”
I look down at the baby, surprised to see he’s not feeding anymore. He’s knocked out.
I hand him to Ace and grab the remote. I’m trying to find My Best Friend’s Wedding again, because I really need to know how Julia fucked that up. She was doing so good with her scheming.
“Can you turn that off?”
Ace is back.
He kneels on the floor in front of me and rests his arms on my thighs. “Do you need anything right now?”
“Nope.”
He blows out a sigh, and I notice his eyes are red and watery. “I know this is my fault.”
“What’s your fault?”
“You’re not…connecting with him. You barely even look at him.”
“Ace—“
“If I could go back in time, I wouldn’t have done it like this. That’s my fault. I’m sorry.”
“I know. What’s done is done.”
He pins me with his gaze. “What can I do?”
“I don’t know.” I run a finger across his arm. “I’m trying. I just don’t know how to get there. It’s supposed to come naturally, but it didn’t for me.”
“Right. Because of me.”
“Well, it’s me, too. I think I wanted a girl.”
His brows knit together. “I didn’t know that.”
“I didn’t either until he came out.” My eyes fill with tears. “How do you raise a boy? How do you keep him from becoming…” I trail off, blinking the tears away. “How am I supposed to raise a boy when I hate men?”
In spite of everything, Ace chuckles at that. “I guess we gon’ find out, huh?”
I smile through my tears. “I guess so.”
He raises my hand to his mouth and kisses it. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this, but you did. I know you did it for me, and I’m grateful. I damn sure don’t deserve it.”
“You do. Just…not like this.”
He nods. “I got you something.”
He disappears into the back of the house, then returns with three bags from Louis Vuitton.
“Is this what you got in New York?”
“Yep. Open it.”
The stuff is really cute. I thank him. But I still feel nothing.
“I don’t wanna be cold like my mother,” I say. “I’m scared, Ace.”
“It won’t be like this forever.” He sits next to me and pulls me into him. “It’s growing pains. You’re gonna be a good mother. You know how I know that?”
I shake my head.
“Because when you love somebody, you’re ferocious with that love. You go to war for us. It won’t be any different with Arlo. You’ll see.”
I burrow in closer, burying my face in the side of his neck.
“It’s okay, baby. I promise.”
I wanna believe that, but I know myself too well.
Once I finish crying, Ace helps me stand. Peeing is excruciating, but the sitz bath they gave me helps with that.
“Take a nap,” he says as he helps me to the bedroom. “I’ll wake you up when he gets up.”
He leaves me to myself, but he doesn’t shut the door all the way. As I drift off to sleep, I hear him next door in the office.
Crying.