by Vivian Ward
“I can have one of the lab techs draw his blood right now, provided he signs a consent form.”
“I’ll do it.” I gulped. This is the answer I’ve been waiting for. Is the baby biologically mine or not? This question was inscribed in my mind and had been for almost 36 hours.
“You don’t have to do this, Blake,” my attorney warned me. “You are legally the father; we have a signed contract with her.”
“No, I need to know if this baby is mine or not. I’ll do the blood test, give me the form I need to sign.”
“Blake, I’m advising you against doing this. It’s not in your best interest.” The doctor looked at me for an answer after my attorney told me not to do the paternity test.
“At this point, it doesn’t matter. He’s already tested Tasha, and the baby’s DNA matches hers. We know she is biologically his mother. Now I want to—no, I need—to know if I’m biologically the father.”
“I’ll have the nurse bring in the consent form.” The doctor said as he took her chart out the door with him.
My attorney shot a daring stare in my direction as though I was tempting fate. I looked over at Tasha, who was anxiously waiting to find out the answer to the question herself.
Her facial expression was a combination of happiness, surprise and worry. At this point, neither of us knows exactly what it means, but it was the most important question of my life, and I needed the answer. Logan stood up from his chair, straightening his tie.
“Can I see you for a minute out in the hall, please?”
“Certainly,” I followed behind him, closing the door as I left the room.
“Blake, it doesn’t matter if the baby has your DNA or not. We can still proceed with custody of the baby since we have her signature.”
“I’m aware of what you said, and I thank you for looking out for my best interest, but what if this baby is mine—ours? Then I would have to live with the guilt of ripping a child out of its mother’s arms. I don’t think that would be in Carter’s best interest.”
“If you do this, play these head games, she might just take you to the cleaners. Not only can she come after you for child support by you admitting that you are both biologically the parents, but she can hang the issue of custody over your head. You might only get every other weekend, maybe some holidays.”
“Whoa! Wait a minute. I didn’t say I was willing to share custody with her if this baby is ours. What I said is that I don’t want to completely take him away from his mother if we are both the parents. I’m sure we can work something out.” A sly grin played on my lips. “I can be very persuasive. You let me deal with her.”
Logan sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Blake, I gotta give it to you. You like to fight fire with fire, don’t you?”
“You bet. I’ve got something in mind. Don’t worry about that.”
“Let’s grab a soda so you can run your uh…little plan by me first.”
“Okay, and—”
“Mr. Adams?” I heard a woman’s voice from behind me. Turning around to see who it was, I recognized her as one of Tasha’s nurses.
“Yes?”
“Dr. Jackson says you need to sign this consent form. We’ve already called the lab, and they’ll be here in about 10 minutes or so.”
“Guess I’ll have to take you up on that soda later,” I said to my attorney, following the nurse back to her desk.
Signing the consent form seemed surreal. Never in a million years did I think I’d ever have to take a paternity test, especially for a baby that I was supposed to have with my late wife. Everything was getting crazier by the minute.
“Where should I wait for the lab people? The waiting room?”
“No, they’ll meet you in Natasha’s room. You can have a seat in there.”
Shit! In her room? Come on.
“Can’t I just wait in the waiting area over there and you can get me when they arrive?”
“Mr. Adams, the lab person cannot draw your blood out in the open like that. They’re going to her room.” Her lips pressed into a hard line. Apparently, this isn’t up for debate.
“I’m going,” I muttered, heading across the hall to her room.
Well, this will be interesting to say the least.
I only hope that we don’t get into another screaming match like we did the day he was born. Cracking the door, I peeked in to see if she was still in her bed.
Damn. She’s looking right at me too!
“Hi, the nurse said I have to wait in here for the labs to be drawn. The lab lady should be here in a few minutes.” Walking to the chair I was just sitting in, I grabbed the back of it, “May I?”
“Be my guest,” she spouted.
Sitting in awkward silence, I gazed at the clock on the wall. Five more minutes.
This is taking forever.
Thinking of all the possibilities of how things will turn out once we get the results back, I nervously tapped my foot.
“Can you stop that?”
“Sorry.”
“You see, I didn’t do anything just like I told you.”
“Yep, we’ll see.”
I’ll be damned if I admit that I’m wrong or sorry.
Why should I be sorry? What else was I supposed to think when Carter came out black?
“Damn right I was. I have no reason to lie to anyone. I was straight up honest from the get-go. The money was all I was interested in, but now…” her voice trailed off. She looked up at me and for the first time since I’d met her, it looked like she was going to cry. Wiping her eye before a tear could fall she said, “He’s so tiny and…vulnerable. You know?”
I nodded, unsure of what I am supposed to say. I’m not even sure exactly how I feel. Cheated, betrayed, angry and jealous are a few of the things I feel right at this moment. A couple of days ago, I thought I was going to take home a precious son and have him all to myself.
Now? It appears as though I’m going to have to share him. I also got cheated out of the baby that was supposed to be mine and my wife. I feel like I was betrayed but by who? It’s not anyone’s fault. The likelihood of this happening is one in a million.
As much as I want to, I can’t blame Tasha for this but if I do have to share this child, she’s in for a whole other game that she hadn’t planned on. I’ll be damned if I split custody with her.
With her living in New Bedford and me being in Freetown, it would be a two-hour drive exchanging custody. I’m not even going to entertain that idea.
“What exactly is wrong with him? The nurse said something about him being in that incubator while his lungs matured and his liver did something, but I didn’t understand what she was talking about.”
“Where do I start? Hm, well, his lungs like you said aren’t fully developed so he’ll be on oxygen for some time. How long? We don’t know for sure. Right now he has RSD, or respiratory distress syndrome, and apnea. Sometimes when he’s breathing, he stops for no reason. The oxygen helps make sure that he’s getting the air supply he needs. They say he’ll grow out of it as his lungs get stronger. They have him under the bulbs to prevent jaundice, where your skin turns yellow because your liver doesn’t work right.”
“And the other tubes? What are those for?”
“He can’t eat on his own yet, or at least that’s what Kathryn, my nurse, told me. She said that they were feeding him through the IV, which goes straight into his stomach. He’ll be able to eat small bits on his own gradually as his body continues to develop.”
“How long does he have to…live like that? With the feeding tubes?”
“At least another six weeks. Look, I know we have our own issues to deal with—and they will be dealt with.” Her face grimaced as she said that. “But, right now all of our focus needs to be on Carter. He probably won’t be able to go home until he starts eating on his own, provided nothing else goes wrong with him.”
“Like what?”
“I ain’t no doctor. They said something about pneumonia, upper respiratory
problems like asthma and things like that. He’s just so premature that anything can happen at this point. Hell, eight weeks ago I was only at my midpoint in pregnancy.”
She knew more about my son than I did. At least she seems like a good mom. I know that a few times during various doctor appointments and luncheons, she talked a great deal about her daughter.
She loves that little girl more than life itself. I remember seeing pictures of her on Tasha’s phone. She’s a cute little thing and very full of life.
Tasha
You’d think if he was so interested in his son; he would have at least asked the nurses about his condition the minute he saw him.
He’s got some damn nerve coming in here acting and talking like this. He’s wicked crazy if he thinks I’m going to just give him my baby. Yes, it was one thing to hand over a baby that wasn’t mine, one that I was only being paid to carry, but my baby?
Nope, it’s not happening. I would never have handed over Nikki, and I’m damn well not handing over Carter. That’s my flesh and blood out there in that tiny incubator; the doctor said so.
Speaking of, I’m so grateful that I decided to use my regular doctor. I’d trust Dr. Jackson with my life. He’s a smart man, stays up on current medicine.
“Excuse me?” there was a knock at the door. “Laboratory, may I come in?”
“Yeah, come in,” I spoke up. Good, now this jackass will see that I’m not a liar, and this baby is his.
“Blake Adams?” she asked him as she walked into the room. He nodded his head. “I’m Jenny from the lab. Dr. Jackson ordered…” she studied the paper, “a blood draw for paternity testing?”
“Yes, that’s correct.” He began rolling up his sleeve. She glanced over at me and shrugged. The attitude she carried said, ‘Oh, you’re black. No wonder you’re doing a paternity test’. I rolled my eyes at her.
“I’m going to clean the site and then a quick poke before I’m all done.”
A few minutes later she had a tube of his blood, labeling it with his name and the date as she placed it in her lab kit while she walked out the door.
“Do you know how long it takes to do the paternity test?” he asked me.
“Like I know? This is the first—and will be the last—time I ever do this again. My guess? A day. Dr. Jackson had mine back within a day. I think they do their own in-house testing.”
“I think I’m going to find the doctor and head out. He told me that he’s releasing you today so I guess we’ll be in touch?”
“Yeah, okay.”
I can’t wait for him to get the paternity test back. I’m going to rub it in his face so much that he’ll be sick of me after a few minutes. I think I’ll head down to the nursery to see Carter before the doctor releases me.
Even though it’s his baby, I’ve been going down to the nursery to see and hold that baby every chance I can get. I’d been speaking to the neonatologist regularly, getting the latest information about the baby.
She is an excellent doctor and always explains everything in layman’s terms, so you know what the hell she’s talking about. When I entered the nursery room where Carter is, one of the nurses was finishing up changing his diaper.
“How’s he doing today?”
“Pretty good. He’s been a little fussy, but I would be too if I had tubes everywhere. Do you want to hold him?”
“Yes, please.”
Sitting in the rocking chair beside his bassinet, I held his tiny body close to me. He’s adorable.
“You know,” I spoke in a hushed tone to him, “you look just like your big sister when she was a baby. Her name’s Nikki, and I know you’re going to grow up to be as bright and wonderful as her.”
The once fussy baby was sleeping in my arms as I continued rocking him.
I forgot just how much I love babies.
“Tasha?” the nurse spoke from behind me. “Dr. Jackson is ready to release you. Your nurse would like you in your room so they can go over your discharge instructions.”
“Okay, thank you.” I turned back to Carter, “Don’t worry little guy, I’ll be back soon.”
The doctor gave me basic discharge orders before I called my mom to pick me up from the hospital. Making a quick pit stop by the nursery before I left, I said goodbye to my baby Carter and promised him I’d see him tomorrow.
It felt bizarre to leave the hospital after giving birth and not bring a baby home with me. I felt so…empty. When Nikki was born, I couldn’t ever put her down. I loved holding, rocking and feeding her.
My mom warned me against doing that, she said I’d spoil her—and she was right—but I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. Nikki was so excited to see me when they got to the hospital. Wrapping her arms around me tight, she told me she missed me and asked if I’d had the baby.
“I sure did, and he’s wicked cute!”
I thought about telling her that the baby is mine, but decided against it because I didn’t want to give her false hopes that we could bring the baby home. Blake had made it very clear that he didn’t intend on sharing custody though I began to wonder what legal ramifications I could take to ensure I get to see him.
It would kill Nikki if I played head games with her, going back and forth from no we can’t keep the baby to yes, we can see him to well, only sometimes. Hell, even at this point I kind of feel like that.
“How’s the baby?” my mom asked as she turned onto the rotary.
“Uh, he’s as good as can be expected, I guess. He’s still on oxygen until his apnea goes away and under the lamp until his liver can produce enough bilirubin. They said he should be able to eat on his own around 34-35 weeks, maybe 36 weeks at the latest, and once he does he can go home.”
“Home? What does that mean?” she looked at me from the corner of her eyes.
“I don’t know,” I sighed. “I don’t want to talk about this in front of Nikki, though.”
“Was just asking a question, is all. Do you want to go back to my place or your place?”
“Take me to my apartment. I need to clean and get back in the swing of things. Being in the hospital for over a week has kicked my ass.”
I’d forgotten how messy my apartment was until I opened the door and walked in.
I guess I’ll have something to do to keep my mind occupied.
After having lunch with Nikki, I enlisted her help in cleaning up. While she picked up all of her toys and coloring books, I washed the dishes and collected the laundry. By dinner time, I was wiped out.
Fixing frozen food for dinner, I gave Nikki a bath and had us both in bed before 10 PM. As tired as I was, I didn’t sleep well. I kept having dreams about Carter—nightmares was more like it. If I wasn’t dreaming that he stopped breathing, I was dreaming that Blake refused to let me see him.
By morning, I was ready to get out of bed and spend some quality time with my little princess. Per her request, we had French toast for breakfast—her favorite, and at lunch time I made grinders. As I started to sit down, the phone rang.
Oh shit, it’s Blake.
“Hello?”
“We need to talk. Can I come to your place?”
“I, um, yeah, I guess. Nikki’s here, but I can ask her to play when you get here.”
“Okay. What’s your address?”
After filling him in on my address and the best way to get here, we hung up. I couldn’t imagine someone like him driving to the south end, but whatever. Cleaning up our mess from lunch, I waited for him to get here. About a half an hour later, I heard a knock at the door; it was him.
“Come in,” I opened the door.
He looked around, taking in my apartment and spied Nikki sitting on the couch watching cartoons. “Is that your daughter?”
“Yeah. Nikki, say hi.”
“Hi,” she said as she hid her face behind the couch pillow. She’s always been a little on the shy side.
“Okay, go play.” Once Nikki went to her room, I sat on the couch. Blake stood near the door as
if he couldn’t wait to bolt out of here. “You can sit down. I don’t bite.”
“I got the paternity results back.” His commanding eyes focused on me. “I owe you an apology. I am the father.”
“And what has your attorney advised you to do?”
“I haven’t spoken to him yet. I came here first because I wanted to talk to you. I’ve been thinking…I don’t want to take Carter’s mom away from him, but I refuse to share custody with you.”
“What does that mean?” I could see it in his face that his wheels were spinning. His face grimaced, and his jaw tightened.
“It means you’re gonna come live with me, like it or not. We’re going to be a family. I’ve got plenty of space for you and Nikki.”
“Hold up! What do you mean we’re going to come live with you? Are you out of your ever-loving mind? I have a place, see!” I waved my hand as though I was showcasing my apartment, as shitty as it is.
“I can’t have my son or the mother of my child living in a place…like this. You’re going to fake it until you love me. This must work. It’s the only way.” He stood up from the couch, “Go on, and start packing your bags.”
Stunned, I didn’t know what to say.
Is he fucking serious? He can’t be…can he?
“Blake, I don’t—”
“I knew this would be a problem.” He started making his way through my apartment, heading toward my bedroom. When he found my closet, he pulled out a couple of large duffel bags and tossed them on my bed.
“What are you doing?” I protested.
“You’re coming with me, today. Either you can pack your clothes, or I’ll do it for you,” he snarled.
“I’m not packing anything.” Nikki heard the commotion in my bedroom and came running in. Picking her up, I cradled her in my arms. “Blake Adams, you’re one arrogant S.O.B.!”
“You can say what you want, but you and the kid are coming with me. We’ll be one big, happy family.”
He started tossing my clothes in one of the bags. When the bag was half full, he started going through my dresser drawers, tossing my socks and undergarments in the bag.
