“I think your friend has gone into labor,” Judy explains. I need Judy to take those words back. Hearing them out loud makes it real. When I’m seized by another crippling contraction, I focus on Judy’s three girls, all of them with white-blond hair and wide eyes like baby deer. The little one who was whimpering has stopped. She’s now staring at me, along with her sisters, as if I’m an animal in a zoo as she slurps loudly out of a Little Mermaid cup. Judy holds the phone down, and Riley’s voice is closer now, right in my ear.
“Jenny, it’s going to be okay. I’m going to find Kevin and we’ll meet you at the hospital. Okay, Jenny? You’re going to be fine. He’s going to be fine.” I’m so happy to hear Riley’s voice, even if she’s lying to me again. I’m not going to be fine. But there’s a chance Chase could be. He has to be. There’s no other outcome that I can bear.
The small crowd that’s gathered gives way to the paramedics, who lift me into an ambulance.
The paramedics tell me we’re headed to St. Mary, and this is the first thing that’s brought me peace in what feels like hours. Annie’s hospital. If I can’t deliver downtown, as I planned, this is the next best option. I have no idea if she’s working, but at least my sister-in-law can put in a good word with the staff, make sure we receive the best care.
My relief is so short-lived it’s barely enough time to remember the feeling. Another wave of staggering pain washes over me, like a riptide pulling me under. There’s no point in fighting. How is it possible that my body is capable of so much agony? As soon as I can breathe again, I ask what’s happening, if the baby is okay. The two paramedics respond in a soothing, even tone that makes me want to kick them in the teeth. How dare they be so calm at a time like this? They’re not gonna tell me what’s really happening anyway. They won’t tell me that Chase is in trouble, but I know. Riley’s not the only one with the tingles.
Minutes, seconds, or hours after we arrive at the hospital, Kevin bursts through the flimsy curtain surrounding my bed in the ER. The paramedics gave me a shot of something. It’s dulled the sensations, or maybe I’ve grown used to them.
“Babe, are you okay?” Kevin asks, panic pulsing off him. He practically slams into the bed and pats me frantically with both hands, as if checking for injuries. He looks like he does right before he’s going to be sick, pale and shaky.
I’m hit hard with a surge of love for him right then, and relief, and sympathy; it’s all there swirling around, making me dizzy. I want to spare him the truth, so I don’t say anything at all. I simply grab his hand. When we touch, something unspoken passes between us, a solidarity that gives me strength.
We turn, still holding on to each other, as a stocky man in a crisp white coat comes through the curtain. “I’m Dr. Atunde, the ob-gyn resident on duty tonight.”
My stomach sinks, taking in the doctor, his dark skin. Kevin stiffens like he’s having the same thought. What if this doctor recognizes my husband from the news? Will it impact how hard he works to save our baby? No, that’s impossible. Doctors don’t do that. They took oaths not to do that. They save terrorists and serial killers.
“You’re going to be a father today,” the doctor says to Kevin, with measured joy. Kevin lets go of my hand so he can take the doctor’s, who shakes it vigorously. The hand that Kevin released finds its way to my belly.
I’m going to be a mother today. It’s a prayer, more than a statement. I focus every fiber of my being on Chase, willing him to be okay with a fervor that borders on unhinged. I have never needed and will never need or want anything more desperately than this, and the simple clarity of that is overwhelming. If I get this, I will never ask for another thing as long as I live. It’s the purest promise I will ever make.
Even though Dr. Atunde calmly explains what’s going to happen next, there’s an unmistakable urgency in his voice too. “Jennifer, we’re concerned about the fetal heart rate. It’s too fast; your blood pressure is rising, and the labor isn’t progressing. We have to do an emergency C-section. We need to get this baby out of you as quickly as possible. I’m going to get washed up and I’ll see you up there. The anesthesiologist is ready for you. Any questions?”
Kevin shivers as he strokes my hair, murmuring over and over, “Jenny, it’s gonna be okay.” His breath, with the faintest trace of beer, is warm on my face. But then it’s Riley’s voice I think I hear calling my name. It comes again, louder, my full name. And then Riley is there, bursting through the curtain, standing right at my feet.
“You came.” I don’t entirely believe it.
“Oh Jenny, of course I came.” She rushes over and kisses me on my clammy forehead.
Kevin and Riley are in the same room. It’s a struggle to arrange this fact in my mind. Not even the same room, in the same claustrophobic space. I glance at the heart-rate monitor, worried it’ll spike and give away how tense this makes me.
Riley nods hello at Kevin and moves to the opposite side of my bed. He responds with an unmistakable hint of anger that’s quickly replaced with relief. He no longer has to deal with this alone.
“Are you okay?” Riley glances at the beeping monitor, where the squiggly lines build to a pointy mountain every seven minutes or so. “Is Chase okay?”
“Chase?” Kevin looks confused. He takes a step backward, as if he’s been physically pushed. “Wait. It’s a boy? She knew?” He seems to be trying to process these facts as Riley stands there completely stricken. This has the makings of a hilarious setup in some wacky sitcom, except that exactly nothing about our life is hilarious right now.
“It was an accident, Kevin. I found out by accident,” Riley explains, desperately looking to me for guidance.
I don’t have enough energy for this moment. I grab Kevin’s hand and hope that does what it’s supposed to do, says all the things I can’t summon, mainly that I’m sorry.
A balloon of tension grows until a slow grin starts to take over his face, deflating it just like that. “It’s a boy.” He says the words with a reverential joy, and even though I had nothing to do with this, it was all biology and fate and genes, I still feel like I’m giving him a gift.
“I thought it was a girl. I don’t know… but a boy. I wanted a boy,” Kevin says, positively giddy now, like he’s revealing his own secret, even though I knew perfectly well how badly he wanted a son.
Riley’s wide brown eyes blaze with concern when I turn to look at her.
“They have to cut him out of me, Rye.” My voice cracks. “It’s too early.”
She leans over so her face is inches from mine. She smells faintly of sweat and cocoa butter.
“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. You’re strong. Chase is strong. You’ve got this.” She straightens up to look at Kevin. “You’ve both got this. Gigi would say, ‘Women been making babies since the beginning of babies. Our bodies know what to do. You know what to do.’？”
“No, I don’t know what to do. My body isn’t doing the right thing.”