A Bump in the Road

by Maureen Lipinski

  Nod.

  “Is global warming truly going to be our generation’s biggest legacy?”

  Nod.

  My mom handed me a magazine and they checked me again. Before I could even read an article, I was told it was time to push and before I knew it, Jake had one leg and my mom had the other and I was being told to push.

  Not just “push” but, “PUSH, BITCH! DON’T YOU WANT TO HAVE THE BABY? PUSH!”

  I wanted to tell them to go screw themselves.

  I had no idea if I was pushing or not; I couldn’t feel a thing. Everybody kept saying what a good pusher I was, so I guess something was happening.

  So I pushed. And then I pushed some more.

  Everyone was right in my face and this time, I did tell them to go screw themselves.

  Dr. Clarke came in and scrubbed up and smiled and said, “Few more and we’ll have a baby.”

  Jake and I looked at each other and he pushed back my hair and kissed me on the forehead. My mom squeezed my hand and told me how proud she is of me. We saw them wheel in the infant warmer and I realized it was for our baby and what felt like a tennis ball formed in my throat. I also had a flash of fear sweep through my brain, like I’m not really sure I really want to do this, um, can we just come back like next week or maybe like next year?

  “Do you have any more ideas?” Jake asked me.

  “What?” I said as I grabbed some ice chips.

  “Ideas? About what to name the baby.”

  “Seriously? You’re seriously asking me this now?” I stared at him.

  “Do you like Daniel?” he said thoughtfully.

  “NO!” I said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because Daniel is a stupid name and reminds me of my first-grade boyfriend and—SHUT UP! Let me have the kid first and then we can argue, OK?”

  “OK, sorry,” he said sullenly. My mom shook her head at him. “What? I think Daniel’s a good name,” he whispered to her.

  Before I could yell at both of them, another contraction came. Dr. Clarke and Jake and my mom were all yelling at me to push, but I just went quiet. I went quiet and pushed, thinking about seeing Mr. Skeletor.

  The next thing I heard was everyone scream and Dr. Clarke said, “Happy birthday . . . little GIRL!”

  The screaming stopped and the room buzzed.

  What?

  “Girl!” she repeated, and held up this pink, wiggly, squirming baby who was most definitely a girl.

  Jake and I looked at each other, eyes wide open and mouths slack-jawed.

  Girl?

  Miss Skeletor?

  What?

  Then we both welled up and I think he kissed me before I sent him over to see her and my mom hugged me and grabbed my hand. Both of us craned our necks to try to see her, and sputtered a little when we heard her cry.

  I knew right then she would be OK.

  A nurse brought her over and handed her to me. “Seven pounds, ten ounces. Congratulations, Mom!” she said.

  I reached my arms out but stopped for a moment. I thought, Mom? Who’s she calling Mom? I’m too young to be a mom. I immediately felt panic bubble up through my body. What am I supposed to do with her? Am I holding her right? What if I drop her or something? Then these people would all know what an imposter I am and not the best mother ever but rather an irresponsible clueless idiot.

  I looked down at my daughter. She felt so tiny, but just too big to have been inside of me minutes ago. I looked up at Jake and I saw him gazing down at his daughter, a pure, true, unconditional, instant, no-questions-asked love.

  I still wasn’t sure what to do, so I just kissed her head and let her curl her tiny fingers around mine. She opened her eyes and locked her gaze on me. It felt like I’d been stabbed in the heart.

  “Hi, I’m your mom,” I said to her. The words sounded strange even as my mouth formed them. She yawned and stretched out her tiny, birdlike legs. I peeked into her swaddle and caught of glimpse of her feet, toes spread out. “There’s no way.” I looked up to Jake and smiled.

  He lightly stroked the blond wisps atop her head as he asked, “No way what?”

  “No way those tiny feet could’ve caused all that kicking,” I said as I kissed her again.

  Jake smiled down at me and covered my hand with his. I put my daughter’s cheek up to mine and closed my eyes.

  I knew life would never be the same.

  It would be better.

  Wednesday, January 9

  The last twenty-four hours have been the strangest, world-spinning, “I feel like I’m in the outer limits and wouldn’t be surprised to see Rod Sterling walk into my room and say, ‘Having a baby is an everyday occurrence in . . . The Twilight Zone’ ” experience.

  My dad and Sam were the first to arrive this morning. My dad gave me a hug and kiss and did the whole “We’re so proud of you” speech I’ve heard from my mom eighty-seven times already. It will never get old.

  Sam repeatedly asked me, “Aren’t you so glad you had a girl instead of a boy?” in between texting her friends that she is free tonight. When she held Unnamed Baby Girl Finnegan-Grandalski, she said, “Do you ever notice how all newborns look like frogs?” Seeing my face, she quickly added, “At least she’s not ugly. Some babies are soooo fugly.

  “Your life is like, decided now,” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like, I could still go and be anything I want. I could marry a royal prince or have a five-carat engagement ring. You’re married and have a baby. You already know what your life is.”

  “It’s great,” I said.

  She looked at me and rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I have my whole life ahead of me.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure, Sam. Your life could end right here if you don’t shut up,” I seethed.

  My dad quickly jumped in. “Sam, be nice. Apologize to your sister.”

  “Jeez, sorry. You guys take everything I say the wrong way.”

  “She’s beautiful,” my dad said as he held the baby.

  “I know. Isn’t she so calm? She’s so peaceful,” I said proudly.

  “She is. Just a word of warning though. Babies tend to wake up a little a few days after they’re born. They’re still kind of dazed at this point.”

  “Maybe. But I have a feeling she’s going to be a laid-back kid,” I said firmly.

  “OK,” my dad laughed.

  Sam held the baby for a minute until she started to squirm, then quickly handed her back to me. “She’s fussy,” Sam declared.

  “No she’s not, she’s just changing positions and yawning,” I said. “Do you want to hold her again?”

  “Not really. Everyone always makes you hold a baby and then stares at you.”

  I couldn’t disagree with her, so I let it slide.

  My dad and Sam left a few minutes later, just as Mark called Jake to tell him he’s planning on coming to the hospital tonight after a work happy hour party. I’m thinking it might be best if he doesn’t hold Baby Girl lest a drunken-uncle/dented-newborn-head incident occurs.

  I managed to sneak in a quick nap while Jake talked to Mark until Marianne and my mom arrived at exactly the same time. Marianne said she could only stay for a minute because Natalie and Ash Leigh were waiting in the car. Of course, we wouldn’t want to inconvenience Natalie. The best part was when my mom said to her, “We missed you at the shower and now you can only stay for a few moments. Such a shame your other grandchild takes up so much of your time that you have so little left to spend with this one.”

  Marianne looked at her, red-faced, and stammered out, “Oh . . . well . . . Natalie . . . Ash . . . Leigh . . .”

  My mom put her hand on Marianne’s shoulder and said, her voice oozing with sarcasm, “Of course. We understand.”

  I love my mom.

  Reese stopped by with a big, almost embarrassing bouquet of flowers. She looked fabulously put together in a gabardine maternity pantsuit but I noticed dark circles under her eyes.

&nbs
p; “Hello, gorgeous,” she said breathily, leaning forward and giving me a kiss on the cheek.

  “Hello yourself,” I said back to her, adjusting my tentlike hospital gown.

  She spotted Baby Girl and practically knocked Jake over as she ran to the bassinet. She picked her up. “Ooohh, God. I forgot how little they are. I can’t wait.” She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. “The newborn smell.”

  “Yup. Even better with a clean diaper,” I said. “Jake was just about to go out and get some contraband McDonald’s. Do you want anything?”

  “Nope, I’m good. My mom’s watching Grace so I can’t stay too long.”

  “Remember, I want one of everything!” I yelled to Jake as he left.

  Reese held my hand and looked down at me and smiled.

  “What?” I asked.

  “It’s just, I’m so . . .”

  “Proud of me?” I finished.

  “Yes,” she nodded.

  “Why does everyone keep saying that? What are you proud of me for? I got knocked up and had a baby. Just another day,” I said, smiling.

  She shook her head and laughed.

  “Pretty soon it will be your turn,” I said.

  She smiled a little smaller, a little sadder, a little more hesitantly. “Yep,” she said.

  “Anything new with . . .” I didn’t have to finish the sentence. She shook her head slowly and shrugged. Her face brightened a little.

  “I do have some great news, though.”

  “Do tell!”

  “I got accepted into DePaul University’s master’s program. I’m thinking about going back and getting my master’s in teaching.”

  “You’re kidding! That’s amazing! You never told me you applied! When did you do this?”

  “Recently. I applied on a whim, just to see if I could get in. I never planned on actually going, but I think I might.”

  “Oh, Reese, that’s so great. You should do it. You deserve it.”

  “I know. It’s such a huge change. I mean, I never thought I’d go back to work but I never thought Matt . . .” She trailed off.

  “Honey, this is the best decision you ever made. I can feel it.”

  “Thanks, it feels good to hear you say that. Listen, I’ll fill you in later. I have to run and pick up Grace.”

  I hugged her tightly and kissed her on the cheek. I tried to say everything, to let her know that I’d always be there, how proud I was of her, in the hug.

  “I love you,” I said, and she nodded.

  Reese left and Jake came back with the illegal McDonald’s and I about fainted from the smell.

  “Fries.” He handed me a large red sleeve of beautiful salty, crunchy treasures.

  “Coke.” I grabbed the sucker and took a long slurp, enjoying the way the carbonation burned my throat.

  “McNuggets.” I practically pulled his shoulder out of its socket.

  “Tiffany,” he said evenly, and handed me a blue box.

  “What?” I said, staring at the beautiful blue color.

  “Open it.” His eyes twinkled.

  I grabbed the box and gingerly opened the top and peeled back the tissue paper. Inside lay a sterling silver baby rattle. I lifted it up and immediately the floodgates opened and tears began streaming down my still-puffy face.

  Jake welled up, too. “See here,” he said, and pointed to the rattle, “here is where we can engrave her initials,” he paused, “whenever we figure them out.”

  “It’s so amazing. Thank you, I—”

  “Oh my God! Is that Tiffany?” came a voice shouting from the doorway, startling Baby Girl.

  Julie rushed over in her scrubs. “Oooohhh, it’s so beautiful!” she shrieked as Jake got up and picked up the baby and tried to soothe her. My heart flopped a little as I saw him pick her up so carefully, kiss her head, and whisper “Shhhhh” into her ear.

  “So. Mom,” Julie said.

  “Yep. Isn’t it totally weird?”

  “Um, yeah. Freaks me the fuck out so bad I can’t even discuss it.”

  “How long can you stay?”

  “Not long. My shift starts in a few minutes, but I’ll come up and say hey when I can.”

  “So, how do I look?” I asked.

  Julie narrowed her eyes. “Please, bitch. Two of your thighs still don’t equal one of mine and your hair looks fabulous.”

  “Really?” I asked, grabbing for my compact.

  “Yeah. You’re lucky tousled waves are in right now.”

  She’s right, I thought as I admired my Kate Hudson hairdo in the mirror. I’m a total MILF.

  “So, a girl, huh?” she said, and grabbed the mirror out of my hand to apply her lip gloss.

  “Yeah, who would’ve thought?”

  “Is Jake disappointed at all?” she asked.

  It was a fair question, but one only Julie has enough balls to ask.

  “Oh, please. He’s over the moon. She’s so never going to be allowed to date.”

  “Or wear high heels or makeup or anything other than Disney character sweaters,” Jake jumped in.

  “Well, just don’t let him get like Jessica Simpson’s dad and all virginity promise ring and stuff,” Julie said to me, and jabbed her finger in Jake’s direction.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” I said.

  “How are the nurses treating you here?”

  “OK, I guess. Better than Nurse Shithead.”

  “Yeah, she’s a real bitch. Let me know if they aren’t treating you right and I’ll kick some ass.”

  “I’ll consider you my personal bodyguard.”

  “You should. So, let’s see the little thing,” she said, and surprised both of us by walking over to Jake, her blue scrubs swishing.

  “Hand her over, Dad,” she said.

  Jake paused for a moment, his eyes flashed to me, and he handed Julie the baby.

  “Hi there. I’m Julie. I’m the cool one. I’ll buy you beer and take you to get a tattoo and give you condoms,” she whispered into the baby’s ear, “and I say the F word a lot. But so does your mom.”

  “Shhhhh!” I said. Truth be told, I didn’t care what Julie said; I was thrilled she even held her.

  “Swaddled babies always remind me of Glow Worms. Remember those toys?” Julie said.

  “Oh, yeah! You’re right. I remember the commercial—the little girl holding the softly glowing cute stuffed green worm. They were supposed to light up after the faintest touch but my friend’s only lit up after you sat on it or pressed your fists into its stomach.”

  “I’ll tell you right now, Julie—babies don’t glow,” Jake said.

  “Thanks, smartass.”

  “So, how’s Hot Dr. Ben?” I asked.

  She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Please. Tara Reid.”

  “Yeah, that’s bad,” Jake said while stuffing a handful of fries into his mouth.

  “So over,” she said without a hint of regret. “So, now that Hot Dr. Ben is officially Ex-Hot Dr. Ben, what about that promise to let me go out with Mark?”

  “Julie, my foolish friend, don’t you know I’ll lie through my teeth when under duress?”

  “Is that a no?”

  “That’s a no-fucking-way no.”

  “So, no word on the name yet?” Julie asked.

  “Nope. We couldn’t figure out a boy’s name, let alone a girl’s. She’s going to be called Baby Girl for the rest of her life.”

  “You could call her B.G. for short.”

  “Like a rapper?” Jake said.

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  “Just don’t name her one of those weird yuppie, made-up names.

  One time, I had a woman in the ER and she named her baby Meconium Sunrise. You know what meconium is, right? It’s essentially baby shit. So, this idiot named her child Shit Sunrise.”

  Jake and I stared at her.

  “What?” she said.

  “Thanks for the tip,” I said, and shook my head.

  Once Julie left, I sent Jake h
ome to pick up a few things I’d forgotten, and a nurse who resembled Star Jones pre–gastric bypass came in to bring Baby Girl to the nursery so I could get some rest. As I watched Star Jones wheel the bassinet out of the room, I felt an all-encompassing, visceral longing to have my baby back next to me, where she belongs. I cheered myself though by watching Star Jones’s large ass leave the room. Because I would die if I had to look at a cute perky nurse’s ass when my own is the size of South Carolina.

  I opened up the laptop and composed a long tearful entry about my new daughter and how amazing and beautiful she is. I couldn’t stop the tears as I read congratulatory e-mail after e-mail. I was happy not to have any e-mails from jen2485 and didn’t even get creeped out when Wifey1025 offered to be my night nurse.

  After I closed my computer, I sat there, restless, waiting for Jake to come back. I flipped on the television but wasn’t in the mood to watch either the Weather Channel or the channel continuously fixed on the hospital’s chapel. I’d already read all of the magazines I’d brought and wanted to see Baby Girl again. Screw it, I thought. I swung my legs over the side of my bed and put on my robe.

  I thought to myself, I’m fine. I can totally walk around and do whatever.

  Oh, by the way? I’m an idiot.

  I made it as far as the nurses’ station before my legs buckled and I was all, “Heeeeelp meeeeee!” and a nurse had to help me back to my room, scolding me the whole way. Then she saw my smuggled McDonald’s and man, was she pissed.

  Good thing Jake walked in right then because she pretty much blamed him for everything. Before she left, I asked her to bring Baby Girl back, seeing as how I was practically on lockdown now. I looked at Jake, shaking snow out of his hair and dusting off his shoulders. I felt like there were so many things that I wanted to say to him—how I love him, how he’s the best husband ever, how lucky I feel to have him, etc., but Star Jones appeared with Baby Girl. Jake lifted her out of the bassinet and walked over to me and placed her in my arms. She was asleep, sighing occasionally, dreaming about Lord knows what, probably giant bottles or boobs or something.

  “Isn’t she beautiful?” I asked Jake smugly.

  “Absolutely. The best-lookin’ kid around,” he said proudly, touching her teeny-tiny fingernails.

  We’re pretty sure she’s going to be a supermodel.