Chapter 35
THE POTLUCK BABY SHOWER
The first road trip of the year resulted in two losses—one to San Jose, one to Anaheim—and a win against Vegas.
Barry had to miss my latest doctor’s appointment, which he hated, but I FaceTimed him in so he could listen in and ask his usual questions—what do we need to look for?
How does she know if the contractions are real? Is Mama doing good?
“Mama’s doing great work growing this baby,” Doctor Ramirez said, warm as could be.
Barry was full of wonder watching the ultrasound, as he always was, and I heard him sniffle a couple of times. The absolute sap. The baby moved her hand like a wave, and Barry laughed.
“Hi little baby,” he said.
Per usual, he charmed our doctor’s pants off. Before we wrapped up, she asked if we thought baby would take after her dad’s career path.
“I for one hope she takes after mine,” I said.
Doctor Ramirez grinned. “And what’s that, dear?”
“Janitor,” I reported.
She blinked, and when I didn’t back off, she laughed.
“Or a surgeon, hockey player, whatever she wants,” I added.
“Whatever she wants,” Barry echoed, all fondness in his voice.
When I hung up, she admitted she loved hockey. Thought Barry was one of the good ones.
I had to agree.
We still hadn’t talked again about the birth plan, which I knew was eating at him, but I told him I would think about it and I was thinking. I was just, also, really freaked out about the whole thing.
The team got back on Friday, and Saturday was the baby shower at Hunter’s house.
Hunter was basically the nicest woman on the planet, texting me to ask things I liked for the party, telling me she would take care of everything, but I was still nervous.
I carpooled with Kate and Jeremy while my parents and Barry were already there to help set up.
I would’ve come early, too, but I’d been nursing a headache all morning and Barry insisted I sleep as long as possible.
When the three of us showed up to the Nilson household with two Crock-Pots and various bags of food, both of my siblings oohed over the house. Rightfully so.
“Do they have a pool?” Jeremy asked as we walked up the path.
“Of course.”
“Badass,” he muttered, and I just knew he was daydreaming about getting an invite to a team pool party. It sounded fun, I could admit.
Hunter had gone all out decorating: pink and red balloon arches, gauzy fabrics draped on the banister and the archway into the living room, and lots of fresh flowers.
I couldn’t even let myself imagine how much the decorations cost her.
She’d told me not to worry about a thing but acquiesced that my family and I could take care of the food.
“Holy shit,” Kate breathed next to me, Crock-Pot of queso held in front of her. My thoughts exactly.
“You should be glad that I didn’t throw this party for you. Would’ve been at the bowling alley,” Jeremy said and ventured ahead of us.
Hunter squealed when she spotted us and rushed up to Kate and me, pink dress and white heels very on theme with this lovely baby shower. She pulled me in for a tight hug, even though my arms were occupied with two bags of tortilla chips.
“You look so cute!” Hunter gushed. I don’t think I’d ever been puffier in my life, my jaw and chin were totally broken out in acne like you wouldn’t fucking believe, and I wore the same dress I had worn to her Christmas party.
I only had two maternity dresses to my name, and I was glad I wore the red one. Also on theme.
“And you’re Kate—also so beautiful. Your whole family.” Hunter gave Kate a side squeeze, also not reciprocated on account of the queso, but Hunter wasn’t deterred. “Your mom’s in the kitchen, absolute gem by the way.”
Hunter led us to the kitchen where our parents and Ron busied about alongside a couple of our aunts, putting out the food and sides they’d all brought.
We went through a parade of cheek kisses and hugs from each of them, Dad tearing up as he hugged me tight next to the kitchen island.
I understood; I was feeling emotional too.
Looking at the assortment of homemade food on my family’s mismatched trays and dishes in Hunter’s beautiful kitchen, I was overwhelmed with the love and support around me, from people I’d known forever as well as the new people that Barry had introduced me to.
We were both so loved—he hadn’t even been on the team for more than a month, but they all brought him in with open arms, and me by extension.
I wasn’t even with Barry, not really. I didn’t feel like I even counted in the Wives and Girlfriends club by definition alone, and yet they still were so eager to support.
Two arms wrapped around Dad and me, and we both laughed to discover it was Trevor O’Neil.
Barry was close behind him, watching us with a gooey, warm gaze as we pulled back from the hug.
Seeing him filled me with feelings so fond I worried they’d break me open right here in the Nilson kitchen, and with that was the lingering fear of what would come next.
Barry held out his hand to me, and I took it, letting him pull me against his chest and kiss my head.
“Look at this.”
He led me into the living room where, in front of the fireplace, was yet another balloon arch, this one with a small red rug and a nice chair staged beneath it.
It looked like a set. Gifts were lined up on a table, and Barry pointed at an unwrapped one at the end.
He held up this teeny tiny Raptors home jersey, just like Barry’s but softer and for a newborn.
Embroidered on the back was a teeny 33 WRIGHT, and I laughed like a maniac at how cute it was.
Barry grinned, and it was obvious that his heart was melted as thoroughly as mine at the gift.
“How’s your head?” Barry asked.
I scrunched my nose.
“Still hurts, but I just took some Tylenol, so I think we’ll be fine.”
The concern written across his face grew, but the doorbell rang, and a group of friends ambled through the door, distracting us both.
A few hours later, I rested with my palms on the cold bathroom counter for a long moment, letting my head hang between my shoulders as I breathed deeply.
The party had been joyful but overwhelming, lots of people to talk to, gifts to open, food to snack on, and my headache hadn’t gotten any better.
It was worse, even, a horrible throbbing sort of pain that should have lessened with the medicine, or the five glasses of water I’d drunk.
I thought it was just the party, all the attention and excitement, the nervous energy, but I felt like shit, and it was only worsening.
The baby kicked, a sharp jab reminding me she was still there, and I couldn’t help my smile before I held my hand against my belly, tapping lightly a few times as my own hello.
I was silently calculating how soon I could leave to go sleep, when my face fell.
It’d been three hours since taking something for my headache. Didn’t Doctor Ramirez tell me this was something I needed to be on the lookout for? Persistent headaches? At what point did a headache even become persistent? Probably somewhere in the realm of three hours, no?
It was consistently my urge to ignore problems until they either went away or forced addressing, but as my body wasn’t mine alone, I figured I ought to call the nurse’s hotline this one time.
I tapped my fingernails against the stone counter while I waited for them to put me through to one of the nurses on call, and let out a big breath when they clicked me through.
I explained the problem quickly and answered no less than twelve follow-up questions before the nurse decidedly said, in no unclear terms, to come to the hospital immediately.
“Thank you, will do,” I muttered, my heart rate through the roof, suddenly.
“Shit.” I rushed out of the bathroom, my eyes scanning the room of my loved ones, knowing with certainty that anyone in this room would help me if I needed them.
I had so much support, my parents, my siblings, even Josie and Marcus were here befriending Hunter and some of the other WAGs in the kitchen.
But my eyes searched for one person and found him talking with my aunt. I beelined for him, stopping next to the couch and offering a tense smile with my apology for butting in.
“What’s up?” Barry asked, eyes immediately searching my face.
I tried to speak as quietly as possible to not alarm anyone.
“Barry please don’t freak out,” I whispered. Wrong thing to say because his face fell immediately.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“We need to go to the hospital.”
“Holy shit,” he breathed, and stood up without a moment’s hesitation. “Come on.”