by Aja Cole
I can’t do it, and I definitely can’t fix my mouth to lie to him about that too.
Fuck.
“She’s not your responsibility. My IUD failed, I chose to continue the pregnancy. I don’t expect anything from you.”
“She?” He stops pacing, face shell-shocked. “It’s a girl?”
“Yes.” I whisper, unable to look at him anymore.
He drops to sit on the stair, head in his hands. “Fuck.”
Closing the door softly behind me, I sit next to him in silence, because…well, because it’s the closest that I’ve been to him since I left and I’m weak enough to take whatever I can get.
“I wasn’t expecting this, Nomi.” He finally says, staring at the concrete.
“I know. Like I said, it was an accident. I thought I was protected. I really don’t expect anything from you, and no one else needs to know.”
“I’m pissed off at you for not telling me.”
“I understand.”
“I didn’t think we would be here, and the silence, the secrecy…all I can think about is my ex-wife and the shit she pulled constantly.” He breathes out, shaking his head. “I mean, months. You gotta be, what, six months?”
“Around there, yeah.”
“Fuck, Nomi.” He stands up, walking away from me. I can hear the dismay in his voice and it’s tearing me up.
I guess the baby can hear it too, because her little kicks start fluttering my stomach and I shift, putting my hand over the movements. I’ve felt her for the last few days, and it stuns me every time.
“It’s okay, little bit.” I say softly to my belly, forgetting that Jackson is watching. “You’re probably hungry, huh? What are you gonna let me eat for dinner tonight, hm?”
He moves closer, crouching down in front of me and staring at my stomach. “Is she…healthy? She’s doing okay? Are you?”
“It’s been a pretty easy pregnancy. It’s only now that I’m starting to get nauseous, and she’s a picky eater. She’s on track though. I have appointments every 2 to 3 weeks now, then it’ll be once a week when I’m almost due.”
“I don’t know how to feel right now, Nomi. I never really thought about kids. Not even when I was married.”
“I told you that I don’t need anything.”
“And that’s fine for you, but I can’t know I’ve got a fucking kid out here and be happy not doing a damned thing.”
“I won’t have my baby thinking she’s a burden, Jackson. If you’re not in all the way, if this isn’t what you want, then forget about your sense of responsibility, and just let us be.”
He clenches his jaw, looking away before he nods at my hands. “Is she still moving around?”
I nod, gesturing for him to give me his hand.
He does, and I put it on my stomach, moving it around until I feel her again.
The kick is light but he still jumps and jerks his hand away. I laugh, grabbing it again and placing it since now he knows what to expect.
This time, he’s ready and he closes his eyes, spreading his big fingers wide.
“Damn.” He murmurs.
“Crazy, right?”
“I need some time, Nomi. I came to go out for drinks, and I find out that the woman I can’t stop thinking about, who’s been ignoring my calls is pregnant. It’s a lot to take in.”
“I’m not going to pressure you or beg you, Jackson. It’s up to you. I made my decision, and I’m happy to have this little girl. The rest is up to you, but I won’t accept halfway or you popping in and out. Take your time. I’ve had months.”
“Your parents know? Your brother?”
“I just told my parents today. I’m going to tell Corie and Chris, but no one knows who went half with me.” I joke.
“Just give me a few days, okay? I need to think about it.” He mumbles, and I watch his jaw soften when she kicks again.
I try to temper my expectations, reminding myself that just because he doesn’t seem repulsed right now, doesn’t mean that he won’t think on it and decide that he still doesn’t want a child.
If he doesn’t, that’s perfectly fine. I planned do this is alone anyway, and even if he says that he wants to be involved, I know not to believe anything now until it’s actually happening.
He stands finally, adjusting his cap on his head. “I’ll text Chris and tell him that I was exhausted, no drinks for me.”
“Okay.” I make a mental note to unblock his number.
He’s right, he was never anything but good to me with the little time that we had together.
“Okay.” He looks at me one last time, frustration on his face before he turns away and gets into his truck.
It’s okay.
No matter what, we’ll be okay.
19
“You let her hide a whole pregnancy from you while living with you??”
“You saw her nearly as often as I did, why are you acting like you couldn’t have picked up on it too?”
My parents look on in amusement while Corie and Chris go back in forth. For my part, I’m curled up in a corner of the couch, getting increasingly more sleepy.
This reminds me of the time that I tried to run away, and my parents didn’t even have to scold me because Chris and Corie laid into me for a good half hour about how spoiled I was acting.
I was sitting on this same couch, and I almost fell asleep then, too.
In sync, they both turn to me and I stifle a yawn.
“Have you told Vaughn?” Corie asks.
“Did you talk about it before filing?” Chris questions immediately after.
I blink at both of them, “This is my baby. Would you like to know if it’s a girl or boy, or are you going to keep going on and on?”
Corie’s eyes widen and Chris crosses his arms.
“You already know?” My sister asks, and I shake my head.
“Yep. Do y’all want to?”
“I don’t know, are you doing one of those reveal things?”
“No, not really my style.”
“You’re gonna have a baby shower, right?” Chris follows up, an expectant look on his face.
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes.” He says simply. “It’s my first niece or nephew, you can’t not celebrate them.”
“We’ll figure it out, I want to know what you’re having.” Corie drops down next to me, “I’m kinda impressed that you kept it hidden, even though I’m a little annoyed at you.”
“It’s a girl.” I put up a hand as soon as Chris opens his mouth, “And no, I am not naming her Christina!”
His face falls and he sniffs indignantly, “Fine, but don’t be mad when I steal it for my kid.”
He sounds so offended that I start giggling, and soon after, we’re all laughing.
My mom is sitting on the loveseat with my dad, and when our amusement dies down, she holds his hand.
“Nomi, you know we’re here for you and whatever you need. But even with our help and your resources, it won’t always be smooth sailing. I can’t imagine having raised you all without your father. No one will think less of you if you consider other options.”
“Like adoption, you mean?” I tug the throw blanket around me tighter.
“It’s what allowed us to have two beautiful children before you surprised us as the third.” She says fondly, and I know that she means it. I’m her only biological child and I came after she’d given up hope of ever having one. They’d adopted Christian and Corinne from separate families, both when they were just a few months old, three years apart with Chris being the oldest.
“I considered it. Ultimately...I know being a parent won’t be easy and I’m sure there’ll be times where it feels overwhelming, but...” I search for the words, trying to put the many thoughts I’ve had over the past few months into something that makes sense, “I want her with me. I want to be the one to give her a good life, and know how amazing her aunt and uncle and grandparents are. I can’t see the future but I’m happy, I’m sta
ble, I love my job, I love being back home...I don’t want to give her away because I’m scared of it being hard to do this without a partner...” I trail off, feeling like I’m rambling. “I just...I want her. That’s all I can really say.”
“Then that’s good enough for me, sweetheart.” My mom rests against my dad’s shoulder. “I just wanted you to know that we’ll support you in whatever you want to do, because it’s a big life change.”
“Me too.” Corie promises.
“Three.” Chris adds.
“I want to be called Pop-pop,” My dad says decisively. “Yep, I like the sound of that.”
Everyone starts to talk about the nicknames they want, and I listen in, but I’m already thinking of other things.
I’m glad they let the Vaughn angle go without more questions, because I decided I wouldn’t lie if they asked outright. It gives me more time to give Jackson. There’s no sense sharing that if he decides that he doesn’t want parental rights.
I can’t think about what the reactions will be if he does want to be around, because all it’ll do is stress me out. Regardless of what anyone else has to say or thinks, us and our baby would be the only things that truly matter if we co-parent.
All I can do now is wait.
Bethany stops in her tracks when I step off the elevator.
“Am I being punked right now?” She peers around me, eyes wide.
“Nope, this is the real deal.”
“No way.”
“Promise.”
“That’s a fake belly.” She shakes her head, creeping nearer like she really can’t believe it.
“Poke it and see. She might kick back though.” I grin, not bothered at all. Today’s the first day that I’m letting the belly out, and I know I’m going to get many variations of this same reaction as the news circulates through the agency.
“She?!” She squeals, clapping her hands together. “Oh my god Nomi, congratulations! What are you, like four, five months?”
“Closer to seven than five, actually.”
“You lucky biatch, I was waddling when I was that far!”
“No waddle just yet.” I laugh, squeezing her back when she folds me in for a hug. Bethany links her arm through mine and we walk towards the kitchen, which is where most of my coworkers are this early since there’s always pastries and coffee or tea options. The light chatter dies down when we make it to the doorway, but it’s mere seconds before the room erupts into congratulations and exclamations of disbelief.
Soon I’m surrounded by my excited friends and coworkers, and after keeping it to myself for so long…it’s overwhelming, but in a good way. It makes me emotional, and I accept the hugs and well wishes, realizing that sharing the news doesn’t…diminish anything.
“I got to you too late, you didn’t hear enough of my kid horror stories.” Kiely frames my face in her hands, pinching my cheeks playfully. “Happy for you, darling. We’re here if you need anything. You’ve read the leave section? And you can set up a meeting at the daycare when you’re ready.”
Another benefit of a women-led company; they get it.
The men who work here get paternity leave, also. Choosing between taking time with your family and going into work isn’t a choice they force us to make. I didn’t know I’d need that kind of support from work anytime soon, but I suppose things happen for a reason. The agency I interviewed with right before this one made it a point to tell me that six weeks with 60% short term disability is what’s allowed, with no exceptions.
That’s it, that’s all of it. After that time is up, any more time that you’re not at work is unpaid and cuts into sick leave. I didn’t ask about it or even say anything about it, but I guess they shared because I’m a woman.
Here, we have six weeks of paid leave with full pay. In the same building, there’s childcare and they’re flexible on working from home, should you need to.
I haven’t looked at many other policies because it just hasn’t been my focus, but to me, that sounds pretty damned generous and it makes thinking about what happens after less stressful.
But I guess we’ll see how I feel after she’s here. Staying at home full-time doesn’t appeal to me…but you never know. Maybe I’ll meet her and never want to let her out of my sight.
Damn, I’m having a baby.
It’s really happening.
“A little scary, right?” Nate sounds sympathetic, “I saw that look on your face.”
I lean against the counter, turning a cup of tea in my hands. “Sometimes, I’m really excited. Others…scared shitless.”
“Don’t worry, if it’s any consolation…being scared shitless never really goes away. You love someone as much as you love your kid, and it’s inevitable.” He sips from his travel mug of coffee. “But we wouldn’t trade it for anything else. Well…maybe a little less teenage attitude.”
“Oof, I gave my parents so much sass.”
He backs away from the counter, tapping the side of his head with a smile. “Me too, I think it’s my karma, going grey early.”
“Hey, Nate?” I call when he’s about to turn around. He looks at me, raising his eyebrows for me to keep going. “Did you always want kids?”
He considers the question for a second before he answers. “Was pretty neutral on it. But I did know I loved my girlfriend and she wanted them, and I was happier with her than without. If I wanted to keep her, I had to get off the fence, and I chose the side with procreation.”
I raise my cup to him, “Well good luck with that teenage spirit.”
He raises his back, leaving the kitchen.
And when I finally head to my desk, I’m a little more certain that Jackson will pick the opposite side of the fence.
20
Before I can talk myself out of it, I send the text.
Then, I hop in the shower and start getting ready.
By the time I’ve gotten dressed, made a small breakfast and am ready to head out; I’ve gotten a one word reply.
“Okay.”
It makes me wonder if I shouldn’t have said anything.
I agonize about it the entire drive over, through checking in and while I wait to be seen, feigning interest in one of the magazines on the table to stop myself from fidgeting out of nervousness. I ignore the couple across from me, cuddled as close as they can get with the chair arms between them. He kisses her forehead every other minute, and I label my urge to sneer as jealousy.
I was doing just fine in my Jackson-less bubble, until it was popped with one hockey game…
then obliterated with a surprise meeting.
Now I can’t stop thinking about him.
As hard as I try, I can’t stop the little bit of hope that he’ll come around.
And it’s selfish, because it’s not about my little girl, it’s about me.
I want him, and there’s no way that I can have him without him wanting our daughter.
But I won’t beg, for either of us.
So all I can do is extend an olive branch, like I did this morning in the form of letting him know that I have an appointment today if he’d like to see her and hear from the doctor.
“Cecelia Drake?” Yvette stands in the doorway that leads back to the rooms, a welcoming smile on her face. Pushing up from my seat, my eyes linger on the door of the waiting area like he’s going to appear just in time.
“I’ve told you a million times to call me Nomi, Yvette.” I finally walk towards the nurse who became a source of support while I was keeping the pregnancy from everyone else. The door to the waiting room closes behind us, and I flinch at the thud that sounds final.
“But I love saying your full name, it’s the only time I can. Were you expecting someone?” She never misses a thing, and I shake my head, cupping my belly instinctively.
“Nope, just me, like usual.” Swallowing, I amend myself, “I might bring my mom next time. Oh, can I have a few copies of the last sonogram today?”
“Of course, just remind me before you
leave.” She opens the door to the cozy room where she’ll check my weight, measure me and check on the baby’s heartbeat. Dr. Kasey comes in after we’ve done my weight, giving me a warm hug.
“How’re mama and baby today?” She asks, grabbing her usual rolling seat and checking something on her tablet while Yvette measures me.
“A little tired, but we’re okay. Starting to have to move around more to find a comfortable position to sleep. Will a body pillow really help?”
“It can’t hurt. Some women find that it works for them, and others don’t. Yvette, you slept on the couch after awhile, right?”
Yvette notes down my measurements, nodding her head. “Yes, and it was freakin’ amazing. I had crazy pressure on my hips early, and it was a godsend compared to sleeping in bed.”
The doc makes a sound of agreement. “A recliner may also work, and you can put in the nursery. You’re hoping to breastfeed, still?”
“Yeah, I think so. That’s better for the baby, right?”
She must catch the anxiety in my voice that I can’t hide. I’ve read way too many parenting forums, and the opinions can be very…aggressive. I want to do what’s best for my baby, but what if I can’t? Will I be a bad mom, then? Will I have failed at that, too?
Evelyn looks at me over her glasses, voice comforting but firm. “The best thing for the baby is a happy mama. If you’re able to, then yes, I would still recommend breastfeeding. But it’s not a set in stone decision. If you try it and you find that it’s not for you, then formula has come a long way.”
“Okay, that sounds pretty reasonable.” I laugh nervously, taking a deep breath. “I just want to do everything right, you know? She’s going to be a tiny person that depends on me…I don’t want to mess her up for the rest of her life.”
Yvette takes my hand and squeezes it, and I’m grateful for the connection. Evelyn sets down her tablet, meeting my eyes. “I can tell you that, for me, with three children who I like to think I’ve done a pretty okay job with; having them and watching them grow taught me to appreciate every little thing. The good moments, the seemingly bad ones, the scary ones, all of it. Because they grow up so quickly, and if you spend too much time chasing a version of perfect motherhood that doesn’t exist, then you’ll lose sight of those things because you’ll spend your time stressed, chasing an ideal. I learned…grace. To have it with myself, my husband, my children. All we can do is do our best, and if you go into each day, just vowing to give them as much love as you can; I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
