by Glynis Astie
Kate threw her hands up in the air. “You are not crazy! You never have been. You just worry.” She paused dramatically. “A lot.”
“Potato, potahto.” I reached down to rub my sore tootsies. “Ugh. Why are my body parts so swollen? My feet look like rump roasts!” I lifted up my bloated foot to prove my suffering.
“Swelling is a normal part of pregnancy, Syd. It sucks, but we all have to deal with it. Make sure you drink lots of water.” She rubbed her temples. “Back to my earlier point: you’re impossible! I knew you wouldn’t believe me. You always think I sugarcoat things for you. And maybe I have in the past, but you don’t need me to do it anymore. I was trying to reach Mom so you could hear it from both of us.”
I held my sister’s hand. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Kate, but no amount of planning or assurance will change the fact that I’m terrified. I don’t know if I can handle—”
“Yes. You. CAN.” She paused. “Don’t you think I was as petrified as you are?” Kate put her hand up to silence my response. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’ve dealt with an enormous amount of change in your life recently.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “Here we go again. Finding your soul mate is not a difficult thing to deal with, Kate.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you kidding me? You jumped into this relationship with both feet from the beginning.”
I laughed. “And I panicked every step of the way. You’re the only reason I went through with any of it. You talked me down from the ledge over and over and OVER again.” I’m embarrassed to think about it. Ludicrous doesn’t even begin to describe my behavior.
“That’s bullshit, Syd!” (Serious Kate is in da house.) “All I did was reinforce what you were already thinking.”
“But—”
She was on a roll. “Let’s not forget how you made it through the harrowing early days of marriage to a man you were still getting to know, WHILE he was out of work. I know people who’d been together for years that simply gave up when their marriages encountered the slightest difficulty. After all that, you survived the introduction to Louis’ enormous family. And his mother did NOT make it easy for you.”
I reflected on her tirade. “You do make excellent points.”
“I always do, Syd.”
Nobody likes a showoff, Kate.
I exhaled slowly. “That’s all well and good, but…how do you know? How can you possibly know I’ll be a good mother when I don’t?”
She beamed. “Because I know you better than you know yourself. I believe in you. In fact…”
Here it comes…
“Since I’m always right, there’s no need to waste any further time refuting my argument.”
I cocked my head to the side. “Have I told you lately how irritating you can be?”
“Not lately, Syd.” She laughed delightedly. “Now come on! We have a registry to create.”
Leave it to Kate to make this errand sound like some type of artistic masterpiece. Although, the way Kate shops, this may be the most apt description.
After a quick breakfast of strawberries and plain yogurt (the things I do for my son), Kate whisked me to Baby World. We spent an hour scanning everything from bibs to car seats, with her both educating me on proper use and giving me comparative selling points of the available products. I honestly don’t know how she does it. She is a veritable encyclopedia of baby merchandise. It was a little creepy, but her knowledge benefitted me greatly, so I chose to overlook the disturbance factor.
After I told her firmly that I would not REGISTER for nipple cream (some things need to be kept private and WHAT is the obsession with this cream?), she said the words that made my blood run cold.
“You’re now ready to look at strollers, Syd.”
I know what you are thinking. What is so scary about a stroller? Where to begin? First, I seem to be a complete idiot when it comes to opening a stroller. I always pull the wrong lever or push the wrong button, ending up with the unit more tightly closed than before. Then, I resort to trying to pry the damn thing open and I end up sweating profusely, pulling a muscle and looking like an inept moron. (Is that redundant?) Don’t even get me started on trying to collapse the damn thing and heft it into the trunk of a car.
Second, they are so bulky, heavy and UNWIELDY. When pushing Sam in her stroller, I have repeatedly pushed, nudged or hit some poor person head-on while trying to steer this crazy contraption. (I must qualify that a select few deserved it. If I say, “Excuse me!” politely and you don’t move after three tries, the injury is on YOU.)
Finally, the stroller is the biggest ticket item on the registry. Have you looked at prices lately? I don’t have eight hundred dollars to spend on one of these things. Yes, I realize my little man needs suitable transportation, but he also needs to go to college. The saving starts now, people!
Kate stopped in front of the stroller aisle and turned to me, assuming a game show host’s smile and gesturing towards the merchandise. “Are you ready for Stroller Wars?”
“That would be a truly ridiculous show.” I giggled and then stopped abruptly as a thought occurred to me. “It doesn’t exist, does it?”
Kate laughed. “Nope. Hasn’t been made yet, but I wouldn’t put it past some TV producers to try. Now, let’s get started.”
After fifteen minutes, we had tested five strollers. Each one had some type of flaw—too flimsy, too heavy, too complicated, not enough storage or too ugly. (Yes, I AM that shallow. A stroller will be my constant companion for the first two years of my baby’s life. I need one that isn’t an eye-sore.)
Kate sighed. “I hate to break it to you, Syd, but the most expensive strollers are the best made, the lightest and the easiest to open and close. You get what you pay for.”
At this point in our shopping spree, I was done with a capital “D.” If I had to spend a little extra money on a stroller to free me from this particular hell, I would do it with pleasure. Because, no matter how much people love you, they are not going to buy you a gift with such a hefty price tag. Well, except for my parents, but they had committed to furnishing the rest of the baby’s nook. I couldn’t ask for any more help. This expense was for Louis and me to bear.
“OK, I give up. What would you recommend, Kate?”
She took my hand and led me to the selection of Maclaren strollers. “These are light, easy to open and close, easy to maneuver AND have plenty of storage space.
I fingered the price tags. Four hundred dollars was the highest price. Not bad. We could take the hit.
Kate took down one of the display models. “Let me show you how easy it is to handle.”
I watched her movements, making every attempt to commit them to memory.
“Nothing to it, Syd.” She returned the stroller to its original form and rolled it to me. “Why don’t you give it a try? Carefully, please.”
I took the stroller from her with a confidence I didn’t feel. Let’s do this! I lifted my leg, tried to push my foot on the pedal and missed. Why was I such a klutz? As I struggled to keep myself from falling, Kate reached out to steady me.
“Whoa, take it easy.”
I grabbed hold of her tightly. “I’m sorry. I feel a little dizzy.”
She grinned. “I guess I’ve been working you too hard. Why don’t we finish looking at strollers another day?”
“Good idea.” I rubbed my aching back. “I think I’ve earned a nice long viewing of those birthday party photos.”
After ensuring I could stand without assistance, Kate picked up the stroller and lifted it back into place on the shelf.
Thank God we were finished. I was exhausted! I rubbed my neck muscles slowly, almost falling over when I noticed my hands were severely swollen. How odd! I had to stop wearing my wedding rings last week since they were too tight, but my fingers had been decidedly smaller than the sausages I was currently examining.
I was about to mention this to Kate when my vision became blurry. As hard as I tried,
I couldn’t focus on the transportation masterpieces before me. I reached for Kate as I felt my knees starting to buckle.
“Kate…”
The grin immediately left her face and she put her arms under my shoulders to steady me. “Syd? Are you alright?”
I tried to answer her, but the words wouldn’t come out. She carefully lowered me to the ground, cradling my head in her lap. “You’re going to be fine, Syd. I’m right here.”
I nodded. Kate always took care of me. Everything would be fine. I only needed to close my eyes for a minute…
“Help!” Kate screamed. “Somebody call nine-one-one! My sister needs help!”
My eyes opened in response to Kate’s cries, but I noted the terror in her voice with a sense of detachment. My consciousness was beginning to fade; my thoughts ceasing to make sense. I couldn’t even make out the shape of her face anymore. The only thing which registered was her slowly stroking my hair.
I tried for one final burst of clarity. I briefly heard Kate’s voice.
“Syd,” she whispered. “Stay with me.”
From there everything became hazy. I had a vague memory of being strapped to a very uncomfortable stretcher, tubes in my nose, flashing lights, a cacophony of incessant beeping and Kate’s worried face. I could have sworn I heard the AC/DC song “Big Balls,” but I must have been hallucinating. An EMT playing heavy metal in an ambulance is the very definition of a hallucination, right?
Through all the pandemonium, one phrase kept going through my head. “Please don’t take my baby. Please don’t take my baby. Please don’t…”
Chapter Twenty-One
I opened my eyes to find fluorescent lights flickering above my head. Where was I? I tried to sit up, but my body felt remarkably heavy. Plan B. I scanned my surroundings, hoping to find a clue as to my whereabouts. Hmmm. I saw a plethora of beeping machines, a TV perched under the ceiling and a bedpan. My Spidey-sense told me I was in the hospital. (How cool would it be to have a superpower?) Either that or a very poor excuse for a luxury hotel.
Suddenly, images began flooding back. The baby superstore, the stroller extravaganza and my collapsing in Kate’s arms. Oh my God! Kate! Where was she? The vision of her terrified face still haunted me. I had to find her, so she could see I was fine. She must be so worried! Hold on. I’m the one in the freakin’ hospital! Where the hell is everyone?
I searched for my handy dandy nurse buzzer to no avail. This simply wasn’t my day. I rocked my head back and forth in frustration. This was a BIG mistake for two reasons. One, my head was now throbbing and two, I had dislodged whatever had been holding my hair in place, causing a most unfortunate “Cousin It” hairdo. (Who doesn’t love The Addams Family?)
I reached up to put the unruly locks back in place, only to get my hand caught on some type of tube. This experience keeps getting better and better! I removed the tube from my face and breathed deeply. I was hoping breathing “regular” air might help to clear my head. However, the only result was the strong scent of disinfectant coming dangerously close to causing me to vomit. Since I would rather avoid such unpleasantness, I decided it was best to put the scary tubes back in my nostrils.
Apparently I was going to have to lie here until my family decided to make their presence known. I closed my eyes and did my best to stay calm. My mind was still very cloudy, but I had a distinct memory of hearing someone say, “PIH.” What did those letters mean? Panic Initiated Hyperactivity? Pregnancy Induced Hysteria? Pretty Icky Hiccups? I sighed. My marbles had most definitely been lost this time. I’m sure my son will be thrilled to have a mother with such astounding intelligence.
My heart fell into my stomach. What if something had happened to my baby! The “H” in “PIH” probably had something to do with heart functioning. Please, please, please, let my baby be OK. I know I was scared and I thought I wasn’t ready, but I am! I CAN handle this. Please. I will do everything in my power to make his life the best it can be. Just, please…please let me have my baby. I need him as much as he needs me.
Tears started spilling down my face as I contemplated life without my little man. I heard my army of monitors beeping frantically. That can’t be good. My grief was interrupted by the sound of a toilet flushing. I stopped crying mid-hiccup and turned toward the sound. Could this be someone I know? Five long seconds later, the door opened to reveal none other than Louis. Unfortunately, the sight of him only made me cry harder. He looked absolutely miserable. This could only mean…
He raced to my side, concern etched deeply into his features. “Mon coeur! I have been so worried.” He kissed my forehead gently and caressed my face.
I tried to formulate my question, but I was too scared to ask it. I wasn’t ready to hear any bad news, so I sat there with my mouth hanging open. The picture of elegance once again.
Louis’ face paled. “If anything had happened to you…” His voice broke and he started to sob.
I hadn’t seen my husband shed so much as a tear since I had met him. I had witnessed a myriad of other emotions, but hadn’t seen anything close to the anguish he was currently evincing. It was unnerving—especially at a moment like this. He was clearly worried about my current condition, but was he also grieving the loss of his unborn child? Why wasn’t he telling me anything?
He held me close and whispered, “My life does not make sense without you. I do not think you will ever understand how much I love you. I have never been so scared.”
My heart ached for Louis. I felt exactly the same way about him. I had to make sure he knew. I had to find my voice.
“What does PIH mean? Did something happen to the baby?” The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. Nice, Sydney! Your distressed husband just poured his heart out and you barreled in with your jumbled ideas.
Louis froze. “Where did you hear that?”
When I didn’t answer, he pulled out of our embrace and stared me down.
“I…must have heard it while I was sleeping, passed out, whatever I was doing in this bed for however long I’ve been here.” I gazed deeply into his beautiful blue eyes, begging for answers.
Louis sat on the edge of the bed and took my hand. He still hadn’t been able to answer my question. The longer it took him to answer, the more alarmed I became.
I couldn’t wait any longer. “Bluey? What’s going on? Is the baby OK? Please! Say something!”
“The baby is fine.” He brought his forehead to mine. “You are both fine.”
The pain in my chest instantly dissipated. I gave a silent prayer of thanks and savored the knowledge of my baby’s safety.
Feeling infinitely more relaxed, I kissed him tenderly and smiled. “You could have led with that, you know.”
Louis massaged the back of his neck. “I have been a little distracted lately.”
I studied him carefully. “What aren’t you telling me? You still haven’t explained what ‘PIH’ is.”
Louis cleared his throat. “PIH is the abbreviation for pregnancy-induced hypertension, but Dr. Bauer indicated that your condition is now referred to as gestational hypertension. Same thing, just a different name.”
I blinked like a madwoman. Whatever the prefix, the ending was still hypertension. Hypertension?!? Son of a bitch! I did my best to appear calm, even though I was having a full-on panic attack in my head.
I concentrated on keeping my voice steady. “What did Dr. Bauer tell you?”
“I think you should hear the details directly from her.” He reached over and pushed a button on the side of my hospital bed. So that is where the damn call button was!
A disembodied voice came out of the speaker next to the handrail. “Can I help you?”
Louis leaned over and spoke into the microphone. “Mrs. Durand is awake. Will you please page Dr. Bauer?”
The disembodied voice giggled. “Absolutment, Monsier Durand.”
My husband grinned. Apparently he had made friends while I was otherwise engaged. Momentarily distracted from my con
cern, I cocked my head to the side, effectively saying, “Well?”
He shrugged. “I have made friends over the last few hours.”
I laughed. “You used your sexy accent to charm the nursing staff. What did your conniving get you? Free Jell-O? Extra pillows? Access to cable TV?”
He feigned outrage. “What good is this accent if I cannot use it? And I would not waste it on something like Jell-O. Jell-O, quite simply, is disgusting. You Americans and your ‘food’ oddities.” He emphasized his point by wrinkling his nose while creating air quotes with his hands.
I bit my lip. “You’re really not going to give me any information, Bluey?”
“I am not trying to upset you, mon coeur, I only want to be sure you get the information directly from Dr. Bauer. I do not want to confuse you and I may not be able to answer your questions.” He squeezed my hand. “In the meantime, we have some phone calls to make. Our families have been extremely worried.”
For the next fifteen minutes, Louis and I called all interested parties to confirm that both the baby and I were fine. Apparently chaos ensued when the news of my collapse spread, and Louis had his hands full with keeping various relatives from boarding planes willy-nilly. No wonder he looked so haggard! Dealing with his mother alone in this kind of crisis could have earned him a padded cell. The woman simply wasn’t able to hear reason.
My parents had been beside themselves with worry. My father repeatedly cursed my decision to move to the West Coast and promised if Kate hadn’t been here to be his eyes and ears, he would have punished her for being responsible for my ill-fated location. (What kind of punishment he would give his thirty-one-year-old daughter is beyond me, but his firm belief in his ability to do so made me chuckle.) I repeatedly assured them of my well-being, wondering if I would have to correct this statement following my visit from Dr. Bauer.
