15. Shante
SHANTE
By the time I hit sixteen weeks, pregnancy was wearing my ass out.
I stayed tired and emotional. Hungry every five damn minutes.
My back and boobs hurt. The morning sickness was disrespectful.
One minute I could be craving chicken Alfredo from somewhere downtown.
The next minute the smell alone had me throwing up in the sink.
That morning I sat parked outside my OB office trying to mentally prepare myself before going in.
I ain’t even wanna be there. Not because I didn’t care about the baby, that wasn’t it.
I cared too much, that was the problem. At first this pregnancy felt like some arrangement, a favor, something temporary.
But now the baby was becoming real to me.
I rubbed my stomach slowly through my hoodie before closing my eyes briefly.
I was getting attached and that terrified me. The second I walked inside the doctor's office; cold air hit my face. The waiting room smelled like sanitizer and baby lotion. Pregnant women everywhere. Some with husbands. Some with giant bellies laughing while flipping through parenting magazines.
I sat there alone lying to everybody around me.
“Shante Carter?”
I stood slowly grabbing my purse before following the nurse toward the back. Every appointment made my guilt worse. The further along I got the more impossible this situation started feeling.
The nurse checked my weight first and I groaned. “Ain’t no way I gained all that weight.”
She laughed softly “You pregnant mama.”
“I don’t like this.”
“You carrying healthy though.”
The baby was healthy and growing perfectly. That made things even harder emotionally. A few minutes later I laid back on the exam table while the doctor prepared the ultrasound machine. My nerves instantly started acting up. Hearing the heartbeat always messed me up emotionally every single time.
“You ready?” the doctor smiled.
No not even a little, but still I nodded. The second she pressed that wand against my stomach I looked away automatically at first. Too overwhelmed already. Then there was movement flickering across the screen.
“That’s your baby.”
The doctor's voice sounded distant suddenly, all I could focus on was the screen. It was a whole little human growing inside me. Then the heartbeat filled the room and immediately tears burned my eyes.
“There go that beautiful heartbeat,” the doctor smiled.
I covered my mouth quickly trying not to completely break down hearing that baby heart changed something inside me. The baby kicked suddenly on the screen making the doctor laugh softly.
“Oh, somebody active.”
“That’s crazy,” I whispered.
The doctor handed me tissues immediately already used to emotional pregnant women.
“You okay?”
I didn’t answer because I ain’t even know anymore the deeper this pregnancy got the harder it became separating myself emotionally from the baby.
“You wanna know the gender today?” the doctor asked.
“No.”
The doctor looked surprised slightly. “We can wait.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s wait.”
Finding out if it was a boy or girl suddenly felt too personal.
It would have me crossing another emotional line I wasn’t prepared for yet.
After the appointment ended, I sat in my car for almost twenty minutes staring at the ultrasound pictures in silence.
Tears slid down my face before I could stop them.
What the fuck was I supposed to do when this baby got here?
Hand it over and pretend I wasn’t attached?
Pretend carrying this child for nine months ain’t gone affect me emotionally?
People lied when they acted like surrogacy was simple.
Especially in situations messy like this.
My phone rang suddenly, interrupting my thoughts. It was Malik. Immediately guilt punched me straight in the stomach.
I answered. “Hey.”
“Where you at?” He asked.
“Out.”
“Doing what?” He asked.
“Running errands.”
“You ate yet?” he asked.
“No.”
“Aight I’m on my way home, meet me there.”
“What?”
“Just hurry up and get home woman.”
Before I could even ask questions, he hung up. He always did shit like that. He moved like taking care of me was second nature. About twenty-five minutes later, his black Trackhawk pulled beside my car.
When he climbed out, he looked fine as hell. Tall with Chocolate skin glowing, perfect waves and a freshly trimmed beard with Cartier buffs sitting on his face. He had street nigga energy all over him, but soft with me.
He walked over carrying flowers and a brown food bag.
“What is this?” I asked softly when he opened my passenger door.
“You ain’t answered the phone half the morning.”
“I was busy.”
He handed me the flowers first, pink roses my favorite. Then he passed me the food bag and it was a corned beef sandwich from Bread Basket. Pregnancy cravings had me wanting that sandwich all damn week.
“How you know?” I smiled.
“You been talking about it in your sleep.”
Malik paid attention to everything about me.
“You okay?” he asked while studying my face.
I forgot my eyes probably still looked puffy from crying in the car. “I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Malik kept looking at me like he knew something deeper was bothering me. He leaned inside the truck and kissed my forehead softly. Then his hand slid down toward my stomach casually and my whole body tensed.
His eyes flickered up toward mine.
“You good why you tense up like that?”
“Yeah, it’s just a weird feeling that’s all.”
Every time he touched my stomach now the guilt became unbearable. He genuinely believed I was carrying his child. The whole time I was betraying him in the worst way possible.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go inside.”
I got out of the car and followed him into the house. I felt like the worst person alive.
“You think it’s a boy or girl?” he asked before opening the door.
“I don’t know.”
“I want a girl first.” He beamed.
“Why?”
“So, she can look like you.” He beamed.
I began to cry, at this point I cried so damn much I barely recognized myself anymore.
“What’s wrong?” Malik asked immediately.
“Nothing.”
“You emotional again?”
“Pregnancy hormones,” I mumbled weakly.
That answer actually made him smile softly. “You are so fine pregnant.”
If he only knew. I realized something terrifying. I wasn’t just scared of losing Malik anymore. Part of me was scared of losing the baby too. The second we walked inside the house; the smell of Malik cologne mixed with the food instantly turned my stomach again. Pregnancy was weird as hell.
I kicked my shoes off slowly before heading toward the kitchen island. I was exhausted mentally more than anything. He unpacked the food while watching me carefully.
“You sure you okay?”
“I’m tired.”
“That baby wearing your ass out already.” He laughed.
Malik walked over toward me slowly before wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. His chin rested on my shoulder while his hands spread across my stomach naturally.
“When your next doctor appointment?” he asked casually.
I swallowed hard, how was I supposed to tell him he couldn’t go to the appointments about his so-called baby. Malik wasn’t a dead-beat ass daddy he wanted to be involved. It was starting to be one lie after the other.
“Why?”
“So, we can figure out what we having.”
I forced a small and shrugged while avoiding eye contact.
“They said it’s still early.”
“That don’t mean I can’t come.”
I swallowed hard again, because the problem was, the more involved he became, the harder this entire situation got.
“You busy anyway,” I said.
“Nah, I ain’t never too busy to check on my seed.”
I moved away from him to grab plates because I couldn’t stand there another second hearing him talk like that.
“You don’t wanna know what it is?” Malik asked again while opening the sandwich wrappers.
“I ain’t say that.”
“Then why you acting weird every time I bring up appointments?”
I knew he was going to start to notice things more now. The hesitation and the nervousness and the way I kept excluding him from certain moments.
“I’m not acting weird.”
Malik leaned against the counter studying me while I tried focusing on eating my sandwich.
But my hands shook slightly.
“You scared?” he asked softer this time.
Hell yeah, I was scared, actually terrified. “A little.”
He walked over again, taking the plate gently from my hands before setting it down. Then he grabbed both my hands carefully. The way he looked at me with pure love, reassurance and trust, that’s what made this shit unbearable.
“You ain’t in this alone,” he let me know.
Tears burned my eyes again. If Malik knew the truth, he’d hate me and Deuce too. Rightfully so.
“I know,” I whispered.
He kissed my forehead softly before rubbing my stomach again.
“I can’t wait to meet my baby.”
I turned away quickly pretending to grab juice from the fridge because I couldn’t keep looking at him. I couldn't keep hearing that excitement in his voice while knowing everything around him was built on lies.
I finally understood why women disappeared sometimes and why people ran away from impossible situations.
Carrying secrets this heavy every day, that shit changed you mentally.
Part of me actually wished I listened to Deuce's crazy ass idea about hiding.
And Lord knows his plan sounded stupid at the time.
Talking about condos and disappearing for nine months like we were in some damn movie.
But now I kinda understood why he suggested it. Because this situation was getting harder to manage every single day. Malik was getting more attached and excited.
I couldn’t keep dodging appointments forever. I couldn't keep lying forever. Eventually that baby was going to arrive. Then what?
“You want chips too?” Malik asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“No.”
“You sure?”
He smiled slightly. “Pregnancy got your attitude worse.”
We sat down at the kitchen table to eat, while Malik talked about nursery colors. He was planning a future around a fantasy. Whole time I sat there nodding through guilt so heavy it felt physical.