6. June 1st
Angie
Last night I woke up in a panic. It wasn’t from a dream or anything like that. I literally woke up dizzy. I didn’t know you could wake up from that. But lo and behold, with my room spinning and an aching emptiness inside my gut, I held onto my bed for dear life. It was unlike any spinning hangover I’ve ever experienced—far worse. Somehow, I made it out of bed and downstairs to the kitchen where I took a sip of juice and felt mildly better. I tried to drink water but gagged in my efforts. There’s something about water that’s not sitting right with me lately—like I need to add something to it to make it more palatable.
When I finally got back to bed, I managed to fall asleep again and I woke up with my alarm. Glad the dizziness was mostly gone, I started packing the remaining last-minute essentials before everyone arrived to help me move.
Is it overkill to have all three of my brothers, Marco, Jay, and Cora here to help? Maybe. But also, Cora isn’t lifting a finger. She just found out she was pregnant, and Marco and Jay are being hyper-vigilant. They just got back from a long vacation where they decided to get married without anyone else present!
Married without me.
I’m not salty at all.
Fuckers.
But also, I’ve been crying with happiness for them nonstop since they told me.
Dane and Jonah pull up in the small U-Haul right as Raf comes out of the house with a heavy box. I wave to them as Isaiah pulls away from the curb, opening a spot for the truck.
Man, even lifting my arm to wave is difficult and I’m tired suddenly. I let my hand flop down but shake it off. Bending to lift a box of clothes, I have a rush of lightheadedness as my heart rate picks up dramatically, and with no thought, I fall to the sidewalk.
I think I’m conscious, but my senses are lowered somehow. I can hear, but everything is quieter. I can see, but everything looks white-washed. I can feel, but only the dizziness buzzing in my head.
“Angie! Angie!” I hear a powerful voice push through the fog, and then hands are on the back of my neck holding me upright as I sit limply. Rafael stares at me with wide eyes. “Are you okay?”
Vaguely sensing everyone else gather around, I manage to whisper, “I’m…so dizzy.” My eyes shut of their own accord, but Raf shakes me.
“I’ll go get her some water,” I hear Cora say.
Ugh. No, please anything but that,I think to myself, but can’t utter the words.
“Stay awake, Angel. Talk to me.”
I barely get out a simple, “Okay.” Fuck, what’s going on with me? Gone are my senses.
“Did you eat today?”
“No. I…got up and…finished packing,” I whisper.
“Isaiah—”
“On it, Raf. I’ll be right back.”
“Keep talking, Angel. Have you been feeling well?”
God, I want to close my eyes so badly. But I try to speak. “Last night…was…weird.”
“Here,” Cora says, shoving a plastic cup of water in my face and forcing me to drink. But as soon as I try to swallow, I gag so hard I start coughing.
“What the fuck is going on with you?” Raf asks, his eyes bugging out as he continues to hold me on the sidewalk.
“I don’t know,” I cry—literally. Where the fuck did all these tears come from? All of sudden I’m now a blubbering mess.
“I found this breakfast bar,” Isaiah says, hunching down to push the unwrapped rectangle toward my face.
When I try to lift my arm, again it’s exhausting. Barely gripping it, I take a quick bite and my hand drops to the ground with it. I feel pathetic. I’m chewing and crying at the same time, exhausted beyond belief, and I just want everything to quit being so spinny for one goddamn minute.
“Guys,” Raf says. “Can you guys wrap up here? I’m taking her to the hospital.”
“Of course,” they all say in some manner.
“Door code is 0220,” he says, standing up and then lifting me like I don’t weigh over two hundred pounds. Walking away, I rest my head against his shoulder as he calls back to everyone, “Thank you! Don’t worry about unpacking anything.”
I hear the passenger door open and Cora’s there, helping Raf guide me into the front seat. “Keep me updated, Raf,” she says.
“I will.”
He enters the driver’s side and shuts the door. Cora squeezes my hand. “Keep trying to eat that granola bar, Ang.”
“Okay,” I sob.
“You’re going to be fine, hun. Raf has you. Okay?”
“Okay,” I repeat, then attempt to take another bite.
She releases my hand and says, “I love you. Drive safe, Raf.”
“Will do. I’ll call you.”
As soon as the door shuts, he pulls away from the curb fast as lightning. If I thought the world was spinning before, it’s nothing compared to being in this vehicle now. I shut my eyes in an attempt to quell my new nausea.
“Keep your eyes open, Angel.”
“I can’t,” I cry. “Too sick.”
“Okay. Okay just…keep talking to me.”
I try to form another sentence, but my queasiness builds. Shaking my head, I hope he can see and understand that I can’t.
“Are you gonna throw up?” I shrug. “Okay. Hold my hand then,” he demands. “Every time I squeeze, I want you to squeeze back. Okay?” I nod and squeeze his large hand as it settles in my lap.
We make it to what I assume is the closest Emergency Room, and I have no idea what Raf has done with his SUV, because all I know is I”m being carried into the lobby and placed in a wheelchair immediately.
“Sir, there’s going to be about an hour wait before she’s seen.”
“Like hell there is!” I hear him roar. “She’s almost unconscious! She can’t stand up, she can’t talk without being sick, she can barely lift her arms!”
“I’m sorry, sir, but she’s going to have to wait like everyone else.”
“We’ll see about that,” he seethes, pushing me away at a snail”s pace. A few seconds later I hear him speaking in Spanish. “Hey, Mamá. Angie’s at the ER on Convention Ave. I’m with her. Who do you know here? She needs to be seen immediately. Thank you. I understand. Yes. Thank you so much.”
His hand squeezes mine and I return the touch, still unable to open my eyes or speak. Within a few minutes, I hear a voice call out, “Angela Johanssen?”
“Right here!” Raf calls back and starts wheeling me.
After taking my vitals, Raf gives the nurse the situation, and I do my best to open my eyes and acknowledge what he’s saying.
“Her blood pressure is dangerously low,” the nurse says. “I’m going to run some tests and start her on some intravenous fluids. She’s incredibly dehydrated as well.”
That part checks out—between gagging from water recently and sobbing from Cora’s happy news—yeah, that seems about right.
Shit. I need to take better care of myself.
The nurse, Aleigha, I think she said her name was, sticks me with a needle and within minutes I’m feeling marginally better. When she leaves, I turn to Raf as I lay back on the crunchy plastic hospital bed. “Thank you for being here.”
Sitting in the chair next to me, still holding my hand like it’s a life preserver, he smiles up at me. “Of course. I wouldn’t be anywhere else, Angel.”
Angel. That silly little nickname he’s been calling me since we were kids holds a punch. I don’t think he’s aware of it. And if he is, then he knows exactly what he’s doing when he says it to me. He says it often, but especially when he’s trying to convince me to do something because he knows I’ll fold like a lawn chair.
By the time the doctor comes in twenty minutes later, I’m more alert thanks to the IV and able to coherently speak without crying. She’s a short Black woman with natural hair that’s been straightened and curled to perfection. She’s incredibly beautiful. “Hi, Angela,” she smiles, rubbing her hands together after pumping some antibacterial foam on them when she walks in the room. “I’m Dr. Asare.” She takes the chart out from under her arm and flips it open. “Looks like you’re in here for dehydration, low blood pressure, and fatigue, is that right?”
“Yes, that”s right.”
She looks at Rafael and comes back to me. “Would you like to be alone for the rest of our visit, or would you like for him to stay?”
“Oh, he can stay. He should be my emergency contact anyway.”
“Alright,” she says calmly, then looks back at the chart. “Did you know you’re pregnant?”
A long pause stretches between us, freezing me. “Did…you…know that’s the wrong chart you’re looking at?” I ask.
She simply shakes her head and says, “No, it’s not.”
I choke on my own words but finally push out, “That’s not possible. I’m on birth control and I haven’t missed any periods. I just had a period.”
“Some people never stop their periods while they’re pregnant. It’s more common than you think.” She says simply, like it’s common-fucking-knowledge. The doctor continues, oblivious to my turmoil. “Says here, you’re about twelve weeks pregnant. Which really means you’re ten weeks pregnant. I’ve never understood why we always add two more weeks from before conception, but here we are. You’re almost in your second trimester.”
My vision defaults to a dolly zoom on Dr. Asare.
She can’t be serious.
I can’t be pregnant.
How the fuck did this happen? I haven”t had sex with anyone in nearly a year.
“I’m going to give you some privacy to adjust to that news, and Nurse Aleigha will be in here shortly with some juice and snacks to help with your blood sugar levels. I’ll come back a little later with more information and some obstetric doctor recommendations in case you don”t already have one. Okay?” she says cheerily, as if she hasn’t handed me a live grenade.
On reflex I nod, unable to blink as she walks out of my line of vision.
“Ang,” Rafael whispers.
Slowly, I turn my face to him, and all thoughts are completely wiped from my brain. “Yeah?”
“Who did you sleep with?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, blinking like a deer caught in headlights. “I didn’t sleep with anybody.”
“Well…that’s just…not how things work. What did she say? You’re twelve weeks, but really ten weeks?” he asks, pulling out his phone and sitting on the edge of the bed. “That would be…” he drawls, but then his eyes go wide. “No. That—that can’t be right.” He rapidly counts aloud from one to ten, his index finger hovering over the screen. “That would mean…the week I moved back…”
“No,” I bellow. “But we didn’t do anything!” I blurt.
“I know!”
“How could—”
“Are you sure you didn’t sleep with—”
“I would know, Rafael!” I shout.
He paces the small room. “Okay. Okay. Okay. This is… Okay. We’re just… We’re gonna… Holy fucking shit.” He presses the palms of his hands against the wall and kicks his butt out, hanging his head below his shoulders. He takes a few deep breaths, then suddenly spins around and launches himself at me, straddling my thighs and holding my cheeks. “You’re pregnant,” he states, clearly trying to work through the same puzzle as me. “What’s going through your head right now?”
“Buffering,” I reply quietly but it comes out a little mumbled since Raf’s hands are squishing my cheeks together.
He smiles. “Yeah. Same.” But then his smile fades and he moves his hands from my face to my upper arms. “What do you want to do?”
His meaning catches up to me. “Oh. Yeah,” I say, pinching my brows together. “I have options, don’t I?”
Raf nods solemnly, unblinking. “Yes. This isn’t my choice, Ang. But… I promise I’ll support you with whatever you decide.”
Rafael
Five hours after arriving at the hospital, Angie is released with instructions to stop taking her birth control, stay hydrated and eat often, as well as a folder full of pregnancy information. I texted Cora, her brothers, and my mamá to let them all know she was going to be fine and that she was just dehydrated. That’s what we agreed I would send them. Not the full truth that my best friend is pregnant because of me.
I’m still trying to fully process this and allow her to do the same, but as I open the car door for her and help her up, I can’t stop thinking about everything we’ll need. When I get to my side and shut the door, I look into the rearview mirror at the backseat.
I’m going to need a car seat,I think to myself.
And a stroller.
And a crib.
And tiny pajamas.
What’s going to happen to my social life?I don’t give a fuck, because I need to start investing my money differently and—
“Raf?” Angie asks with concern.
“Huh?”
“Are you going to drive?”
“Oh,” I smile weakly. “Yeah. Sorry,” I tell her, pulling away from the hospital. “Just thinking is all.”
“Yeah,” she whispers, looking out the window. “Do you mind if we just…not talk until we get home?”
“I get it. We both need to… Yeah. I’ll shut up now.”
It’s late afternoon so the trip back to our place takes nearly an hour in traffic. And in that time my brain whirled between degrading insults about myself to planning my future child’s college tuition. It’s been a fucking rollercoaster in my head, but I know it’s ten times worse in hers.
When I pull into my tight one-car garage, I shut the car off and we sit motionless in the even-quieter silence.
“Angie, I’m sorry,” I blurt out, the sound of my voice like a jackhammer on a Sunday morning. “This is all my fault. I did lean in that night,” I admit, but continue to blabber uncontrollably. “But I swear to god I don’t remember anything after that. I can’t believe I could do something like this—both of us were so drunk. I’m a piece of shit and I understand if you hate me for it because I totally deserve it—”
“Raf,” she tries to interject.
“You must feel so violated, Angie. That’s the last thing I would ever want you to feel, and if you want to cut me out of your life because of it, I understand, but—”
“Hey, hey, hey,” she says, placing her hand on my arm. “I’m not mad.”
“You’re not?”
“No,” she whispers. “What happened was a mistake. But the more I think about it,” she says, placing her other hand on her belly. “I don’t think this was a mistake.”
That shoots my eyebrows up. “Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, this could have happened with anyone. And if that’s the case, there’s no one in my life I’d rather have a baby with than you,” she says softly, then adds, “Well, except for Cora. But she can’t get me pregnant; the science just isn”t there yet.”
An unexpected laugh bursts out from my lips as my heart pounds so loudly in my chest that I’m positive she can hear it.
How can she make jokes at a time like this? I fucking love her for it.
“Does that mean you’ve made your decision? Because you can take more time if you need it—not that I’m pressuring you to go one way or the other.”
“You know,” she nods. “I thought I would need more time too, but, halfway through the drive I started telling myself I was going to have a baby, and I let that thought settle in. I don’t know, I guess that thought stretched out and got comfortable. But hey, where are you with this? I know you said this was my decision, but what are you feeling?”
“To say I’m shocked is an understatement. I’m scared.”
Angie grabs my hand. “Me too.”
“I have no idea how to raise a child,” I huff, and a small smile makes its way through. “But we’ve always made a good team, haven’t we?”
“You’re my first pick,” she smiles.
It’s my turn to squeeze her hand back. “Okay,” I say, my voice only a little shaky. “Let’s have a baby.”