Diary of a Mad First Lady

by Dishan Washington

  “Okay, sir. Just fill out these forms and we’ll get her back in just a few minutes,” she said as she took a sip of whatever was in her cup.

  “No. You’ll see her now. Her doctor said that she would be waiting on her, and I want her to be taken back now. Those papers can wait,” he said in a stern voice.

  “Sir, there is protocol that must be followed. You have to sign her in, in order for us to treat her. So, if you would just do that, we can get her into the system quicker. I know that you’re anxious to get her back and meet your new baby, but we have to follow the proper steps,” she said, this time a little nicer.

  Darvin snatched the clipboard from her hands and scribbled his John Doe on a few forms.

  “There. Is this good enough? Can my wife now see her doctor?” he said impatiently.

  “Who’s her doctor, sir?” she asked as she rolled her eyes.

  “Dr. Stenzel. Jacqueline Stenzel.”

  The attendant paged Dr. Stenzel and proceeded to take down all of my insurance information. Within minutes, Dr. Stenzel was coming through the big metal doors with a carefree look on her face. I was glad everybody else was calm, because my nerves were a mess.

  “Darvin, Michelle, we have everything set up for you. I’m going to do an exam, and if the need be, perform an emergency C-section. By the expression on your face, you are already in labor. If you’ve dilated too much, you may have to have a normal delivery,” she said in her medical tone.

  I shook my head in agreement to whatever she wanted to do. I was not in any position to argue. I looked up at Darvin, who was trying desperately not to look worried.

  Dr. Stenzel wheeled me through the doors and into a room that was as clean as the board of health. Everything was either white or chrome. Medical equipment flanked the large room, and the bright lights were almost blinding.

  A team of people stood in place, ready to get started at the word of Dr. Stenzel. They helped me up onto the table, and Dr. Stenzel checked to see if I’d dilated too far for a C-section.

  “You’ve only dilated two centimeters. I have a mind to stop the labor, but I don’t think it would do much good. I think you would be back in here in the next couple of days.” She looked at her team, and with a nod of her head, people started moving into place.

  “The anesthesiologist will be here in just a few moments to administer meds to you. We’re going to do a Caesarean. Do you have any questions?”

  Not able to get my words out for fear of going into another crying spell similar to the one from last night, I shook my head no.

  Once all of the prepping was completed, the actual C-section lasted a total of about ten minutes. They whisked the baby to a table that had a warming light above it, and began the suctioning and cleaning process. I watched and listened, waiting to hear him cry, or make any type of noise that said he was alive and well. But the deafening silence was the only thing that flooded the room.

  Panic rose through my body. Was he alive? Oh, God. My baby had to live, and he had to be all right. I tried to stop the tears from flowing, but the dam had broken. My little boy was over there fighting for his life, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  I looked at Darvin only to see a look of uncertainty in his eyes. The giant that I had come to know had been reduced to a man who was standing powerless as he waited for his son to breathe his first breath.

  My thoughts were interrupted by the nurse, who announced that they were rushing the baby to the special unit for infants.

  “Dr. Stenzel, what’s going on? Why are they taking our baby?” Darvin said in a panic.

  “Calm down. Everything will be fine,” she said.

  I heard the words that came out of her mouth, but the story she told with her eyes was different. She, too, looked afraid.

  “Will he be okay?” Darvin asked with a shaky voice.

  “I’ll be honest. I believe that everything will be just fine, but it’s going to be touch and go. We have to hold on to our faith, pray, and believe the Word of God.”

  Dr. Stenzel finished working on me, and left to check on the baby. Darvin moved closer to me and grabbed my hand.

  “Sweetie, don’t worry. The baby is going to pull through this. We’ve fought through too much and prayed too hard for this baby not to make it. Let’s touch and agree right now.”

  As Darvin prayed, I journeyed into a place deep within my soul to find that peace that surpassed all of our understanding. I needed God to hear my plea and pity my every groan. We needed a miracle. All I had to hold onto was the faith that had been instilled into me as a child. I could hear my grandmother’s words: “Baby, when you can’t count on nobody else, you can always count on the Lord. Even when the way seems dark and dreary, He’ll be the light that brightens your path.”

  The thought of her words gave me small comfort. I knew that this was out of my control. I knew that the only option I had was to put everything—my fear, my doubt, and my troubles—in God’s hands. He saw this day before it ever came, and if I was the woman of God I said I was, I had to learn how to lean not to my own understanding.

  We were in the recovery room for what seemed like days before Dr. Stenzel or anyone came to update us on the status of our baby. Every time I started drifting off to sleep, my eyes would pop back open for fear of missing something.

  I was in a little pain, and the anesthesia was threatening to overtake me. On the other hand, I would not rest until I knew my baby was okay.

  Finally, Dr. Stenzel came in. “How are we doing?”

  Darvin and I simultaneously said, “We’re fine.”

  “Well, I have some good news and some bad news,” Dr. Stenzel said. My heart sank. How can you have both good and bad news at the same time in a situation like this? “The good news is that your son is going to be just fine.”

  Darvin let out a sigh of relief, but I kept my eyes fixed on Dr. Stenzel because I wanted to hear the bad news before I let go of my breath. She continued. “The bad news is that he’s going to have to remain in the hospital for at least a week or two for monitoring, unless he shows crucial improvements before then. His lungs are a little undeveloped, and he needs to gain some more weight.”

  “Is that it?” I asked, wondering if that was all the bad news.

  “That’s it,” she said, turning to look at me.

  Tears of joy fell. So what if I had to wait a week to take my baby home?

  As long as he was going home at some point, I could deal with the wait.

  I wailed in thanksgiving to God, for He had heard the prayers of my heart. I secretly promised God that for the rest of my son’s life, I would raise him according to His will. However, I knew that no promise I made to God would be enough to express my gratitude to him for sparing my baby’s life.

  “I’ll take it that those tears are tears of joy,” Dr. Stenzel said.

  Darvin grabbed my hand and kissed it. “Yes, they are. And, Doctor, we appreciate everything that you’ve done for us, as well as your entire team. We couldn’t have asked for a better physician.”

  “And I couldn’t have asked for better patients.” She patted Darvin on the shoulder. She then turned to me. “Honey, you get some rest. You’re going to need it. You actually get another week or so to be duty-free before the rest of your life changes. I’ll be back in to check on you a little later.” Dr. Stenzel smiled at us both, and walked out of the door.

  Little did she know, my life had already changed, and would never be the same. From the moment that I saw my baby come into the world, my priorities changed. My view of life altered. My reason for living became clear. My desire to impart something into his little life became more evident. I was a new woman.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Michelle

  A little more than a week later, Darvin and I were taking one final look at the nursery. We had both decided that we would nickname the baby DJ, and today was the day that DJ was coming home.

  We surveyed our work in hopes that everything was p
erfect. His nursery was decorated in multiple shades of blue and yellow, with a mural of water and ducks on his walls. Every imaginable thing that a baby—and his mother—might need was in his room.

  The nursery had a flat panel TV on the wall, a DVD player, a microwave, a mini-refrigerator, a portable pantry, and an oversized rocking chair, all of which was for me. I’d always dreamed of what my baby’s nursery would look like; the dream and the reality matched perfectly.

  I’d had several baby showers, and Darvin and I had hardly spent any money buying him anything. My first lady friends had thrown me a shower about a month ago at Houston’s, during one of our weekly Thursday night meetings. Their gift cards equaled $2,500, with them each giving me $500. I couldn’t have asked for better friends.

  Almost each department and ministry at the church had also thrown me showers, not to mention the two elaborate showers that my family and Darvin’s family had given me. Our baby was the first grandbaby on both sides, so no expense was spared.

  Both sides of our family had gathered at our home just prior to us leaving to pick up DJ. We were having a big “Welcome Home” party, and family members were busy scurrying around, as well as guests, who were still arriving.

  We made our way downstairs and were greeted by applause. Warmth filled my heart as I looked at all of the people that I loved and cared about. Our mothers were crying just as hard as they were on the day that DJ was born. They said their babies had had a baby, and it went on and on from there.

  Once at the bottom of the last step, Darvin addressed the crowd. “We would like to thank all of you for being here today, to share with us on this special day, the day that we bring our son home for the first time. As many of you know, Michelle and I have endured a lot in the past few years and we are eternally grateful for all of your prayers, words of encouragement, and anything that you’ve done to show your love. We plan to have a great time today, so enjoy yourself, eat plenty of food, and let’s just thank God for our miracle.”

  Everyone applauded again. I waved my hand to silence the crowd, because I too had something to say.

  “As Darvin has said, we’ve endured so much. We’ve had moments in which I thought I would be overtaken with grief and sorrow. But God is a good God and He’s worthy to be praised.” People started clapping again. “I thank God for each of you, but I wanted to openly and publicly thank my husband,” I said as I turned to face him.

  “Baby, we’ve seen our share of ups and downs, but God has kept us. He never promised that this life would be easy; He only promised to never leave or forsake us. There have been times when I didn’t think I deserved you, and there have been times when I felt I would abandon the call on my life to be your wife. Nevertheless, I stand here today whole and complete. I stand here today loving you more than I did the day I married you. I stand here as your wife, your one and only, your forever and always.”

  Darvin allowed the tears to openly fall. He leaned in and kissed me passionately, and I honestly felt in my heart that the worst was over and that the best was yet to come.

  We drove up to the entrance of the hospital and Darvin pulled around to let me out at the front door. I was moving around better than everyone had predicted I would be after undergoing my C-section. The first few days afterward were like torture. It hurt to breathe, and getting up to use the bathroom was worse than that.

  Today, I was at least walking normally. The operator who sat at the front desk had grown accustomed to seeing me come in early in the mornings or leaving late at night. She waved at me as I walked through the doors.

  “Mrs. Johnson, is this the big day? Are you taking the little man home?” she asked happily.

  I put on my proud mother grin. “Yep. It’s the big day.”

  She clapped her hands in excitement. “I’m so happy for you. Li’l DJ couldn’t ask for a better mother.”

  I laughed. “I’ll have to bring him by in a few years, and we’ll see if he feels the same way.”

  Darvin walked into the foyer and kissed me in the sensitive spot on my neck. I giggled like a school girl. “You know that tickles when you do that.”

  He looked at me seductively. “Really now? And what happens when I do—”

  I slapped him on the hand to interrupt his next statement. “What is wrong with you? People can hear you,” I said, half serious and half jokingly.

  “And who cares? Girl, do you know how long—”

  I interrupted him again. “Darvin! Get a hold of yourself. We don’t want everybody in our business.”

  “I can’t help if I miss you,” he whined.

  “Well, we are on a mission right now,” I said as we walked to the elevators. “We’ll have to come back to this discussion later.” I pressed the button that led to the labor and delivery floor. “Besides, I’m not going to be one of those women pregnant at her six weeks check-up.”

  “Hmph,” was all he said.

  We exited the elevator and went directly to the nurse’s station to sign DJ’s discharge papers. After taking care of the necessary paperwork, a nurse wheeled DJ around to us. He was dressed in the Superman outfit that I’d left for him the night before. Darvin and I both had mile-long grins on our faces.

  “Mr. DJ is all ready to go,” Rachel, his day nurse, said.

  “And we’re ready for him to go,” I said.

  In the car, I watched DJ the entire time as we drove home. He was sound asleep. We pulled into the driveway as everybody who had been watching for us came outside. Darvin came around and got DJ and his car seat out of the car as my dad helped me out.

  Inside, the eating and entertainment began. People were in almost every room downstairs. The ladies were oohing and ahhing over the baby, and the men were in the living room trying to convince Darvin to smoke a cigar. I smiled as I took in all of my surroundings. Right, wrong, or indifferent, there was nothing like family.

  I found my purse so that I could get my cell phone and call the girls. Our weekly meeting was in a couple of days, and I wanted to try to get them to all come over to my house for the meeting, instead of going to Houston’s.

  When I realized that I had left my cell phone in the car, I snuck out the side door, because I didn’t want a million people stopping me and giving me 101 reasons why I shouldn’t be moving around too much.

  I grabbed my cell phone and noticed that I had received a text message: Congratulations on bringing your baby home. Well wishes, Dawn.

  For good reason, I’d spent the last two weeks trying to forget that she even existed, and had done a good job of it, until now. Dawn was a force to be reckoned with, and I didn’t have the energy to deal with her anymore. I’d spent a great deal of time with God in prayer and devotion, and one thing I had learned was that this battle was not mine, it was the Lord’s.

  I had said this before, and I reneged. But now, I was no longer going to worry about Dawn and her motives. I was going to live my life like it was golden, and not worry about her childish tantrums. Darvin and I were together, and we were going to stay that way. Not even a woman with all of Dawn’s attributes could tear us apart. What we had had been bound in heaven, and no man or woman was going to set us asunder. If she wanted to get to me, she would have to come through Jesus Himself.

  I made the calls to the ladies, and after chatting with them for a few moments, I sauntered back inside.

  Darvin met me at the door. “Hey, you,” he said tenderly.

  “Hey, baby.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “I went outside to make a call.”

  “Oh.” He pulled me into him for a hug. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

  “Hmm . . . let me see.” I pretended to think. “I believe you told me yesterday.” I grinned.

  “Well, let me tell you today. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He kissed me affectionately. I temporarily forgot that we were standing in the middle of a room filled with people. I didn’t care a single bit; for
this joy I had, the world didn’t give it, and the world couldn’t take it away.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Daphne

  It had been a month since Michelle had been to church, and I loved every minute of it. I had become so visible in the ministry and meetings around Mount Zion that people had started to call on me when they needed something. Money might not buy you love, but it sure buys you a whole lot of power. Ever since I had started funding the youth trips, parts of the remodeling phase, and other financially deprived areas of the church, I was getting much respect around the place.

  Darvin had made it practically easy for me too. Since the birth of his son, the last thing that seemed to be on his mind was the church. His answers to everything I suggested were “yeah” and “un-hunh.” Lord knows if you give me an inch, I will take a mile. So, I was marching around Mount Zion as if I were already the first lady.

  That thought made me smile. Not only had I been busy around Mount Zion setting things up, I’d been setting things up away from Mount Zion.

  After that night at my house, when I became sure that Darvin and I would be together, I went ahead and assumed the role of his wife. I even had all of my bills switched over to my new name, Dawn Johnson. I started a blog, Ladies First, for other first ladies to come and gain support from other ladies who just wanted to be normal ladies first, and first ladies later. I formed a charity in Darvin’s name in small, remote towns outside of Atlanta, and became the spokeswoman. Much to my shock, people loved me. Because he was so widely known, the few people that I interacted with as his wife were surprised they hadn’t heard about his divorce via the news outlets.

  Truth was the media would have had a field day with that story. But leave it to me to have an answer for everything. I simply told those who inquired that it had been kept under the rug in an effort to do as little damage as possible to his reputation. They all bought that answer.