Thirty-four #2
“A while?” She shifts her questions to Keisha. “The fuck is a while?”
“A few hours,” Keisha answers. “They’re not that bad. I’ll be fine once I get to sit down at dinner.”
“How about you sit your ass down right now?” I snip. She shoots me a glare but does what I want, lowering herself to the couch slowly. She exhales through pursed lips the second she’s there. Absolutely the fuck not.
“Get your shit, we’re going to the hospital,” Junie says.
“What?” Keisha sounds panicked. “It’s not time. I’m not due for another two weeks.”
“Then I’m calling your doctor.”
“She’s on vacation.” Challenging Junie as if she doesn’t have plans A through E on deck proves Keisha is not in her right mind. Junie glares at her while lifting her phone to her ear.
She passes along the information she’s gathered, Keisha rebutting half of her claims. Eventually, she puts the phone on speaker so Keisha can answer the questions herself.
Step by step, she answers yes to all the nurse’s questions.
“You can take me off speakerphone now,” the professional says.
A clear sign the news is not in Keisha’s favor.
“Yeah, you need to go to the hospital,” Junie says bluntly. Pretty sure the nurse didn’t want Keisha to hear it like that.
“What?”
“They said Braxton Hicks pains should not come this regularly. If contractions happen every five minutes for over an hour, you need to go.”
“I’m fine. They’re not that—ooh!”
“Girl, I am going to strangle you if you keep saying they’re not that bad,” I scold her. “We’re going to start timing.”
Junie and I sit in silence, staring at Keisha while we wait, a timer pulled up on each of our phones.
As the next one comes, she lies about it not being bad even though she can’t talk for the one minute and twelve seconds it lasts.
We wait in silence again, and sure enough, only four minutes pass before the next one comes.
We don’t yell at her, not wanting to add to her pain, but she knows she can’t deny she’s in labor any longer.
Even though it’s early, and even though it’s shitty timing, it’s happening.
When the contraction passes, Keisha presses her palms to her forehead in exasperation, looking so much like her mother. “My enemies have succeeded.”
Junie jumps up from the couch. “Get your shit, we’re going to the fucking hospital now!”
~
With Keisha’s birth plan out the window, she is not happy. The room she wanted was unavailable, her doctor is away, and the replacement doctor said Keisha came in only two centimeters dilated, suggesting she has hours of labor ahead of her.
Junie sits on my lap in the only chair available, while Kellen pisses Keisha off with a series of questions, trying to catch up on the information he missed while stuck in traffic for hours. “And why did they take the bloodwork? Could something be wrong?” Not the right way to ask that, bro.
“Kelly, I don’t want to hear a damn word from you right now. Sit your semen-having ass in the corner and shut the hell up!”
She’s pissed, and I would be too. Junie curls up higher on my lap and gives me a face that screams Aren’t you glad that’s not you? I nod an emphatic yes. “Do you need more ice chips, babe?” Junie asks Keisha.
“Finally, someone being helpful.” That’s a yes. Junie leaves me to fetch them. I get up to be of assistance as well.
Standing beside her, I take Keisha’s hand. “Keke. Look at me.” She does. “This isn’t what you planned, but everything is going to be okay.”
“I was supposed to have weeks left to prepare,” she says. “Do you know what can happen during birth? I could shit on the doctor. And have you heard what a level-three tear is? I could rip from my cooter to my tooter. I could have an asshole-vagina combo, Ambrielle!”
I bite my lips to keep from laughing, fearing if it escapes, I won’t escape with my life. Junie hands over the ice chips and hides her face against my shoulder. Calming myself with a deep breath, I repeat, “It’s going to be okay.”
The doctor comes back into the room, and we all look up with anticipation. When four other people walk in behind her, I’m not sure whether that’s good or bad. She explains Keisha’s test results and updates us on the baby’s status, using words like concerning, elevated, and distress.
None of it makes sense until the doctor says, “We need to take you up for an emergency C-section.”
Everyone in the room seems to jump into action while Keisha is frozen in quiet fear. I follow the bed into the hall, holding her hand. “I don’t want this. I’m not ready. Elle’s not ready,” she says.
“Elle?” I ask, hoping the name comes from where I think it does.
Her brow furrows. “Yeah. After you. And Ms. Danielle.”
My momma.
The pressure in my chest brings tears to my eyes instantly. I can’t process how much it means to me that she would honor my mother with her first baby, knowing my past and present struggles so intimately. We are family in the truest, deepest sense.
“You can do this,” I say through my tears, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “Your whole life, you have achieved everything you’ve set your mind to. You got into law school, passed the bar on your first try in California. And what have you always said before all those achievements?”
“I don’t think I can do this,” she answers.
I nod. Keisha’s face crumples. We’re a damn mess. “You’ve got this. Trust me,” I whisper again. “See you both soon.”
Finally, she smiles. It stays when I let her go and even when she disappears through the doors.
~
One hour later, I have a niece.
Elle Juniper Joseph, a beautiful seven-pound, six-ounce, some meaningful yet confusing number of inches long niece.
Keisha is surrounded by her mother, father, aunt, Kellen and his parents and brother—and a baby lying contentedly on her chest. Her village, all in one room.
I have never seen Keisha smile like that.
The way she looked at Kellen on their wedding day is nothing compared to the way she looks at that baby.
That must be the incomparable love everyone talks about.
It’s a beautiful birthday gift, really, to have someone you love come into the world and share your day. I couldn’t be happier she’s here. After all that fear, now Keisha has a miniature version of herself.
But the selfish part of me pouts in the back of my mind, wearing the business attire from my interview, wishing she was eating sushi and cake rather than fading into the background like my hopes and dreams.
I am happy, but in a way, I am mourning.
Not the loss of a stupid birthday party or the attention I would have had all to myself.
I am missing the person I was before tonight.
The twenty-something. The woman who was “still young” with “so much time left to figure it out.” Now, I’m spending my birthday sitting in the corner of a room full of smiles when all I want to do is cry.
My phone buzzes in my purse. I grab it to silence it, stopping when I see his name. Liem.
Junie sees it and whispers for me to go. No one notices when I excuse myself from the room to answer. “Hi, Hoodie.”
“Hey!” He sounds happy and warm. I miss him so bad. “Why aren’t you here?”
“Where?”
“At the restaurant.”
He came. Life floods back into me, warming me and prickling at my eyes. “You’re here?”
“I am.” He chuckles. “And you’re not.”
“I’m at the hospital. Keisha just had her baby.”
“She what?”
“Wild, right?”
“Can I come steal you away?”
Steal me from what? My doom and gloom? Keisha has everything she needs and more. All the love possible in a room. I want a slice of love for a few minutes of my birthday.
“Yes,” I say. “I’m all yours.” Always.