Authors: Traci Sanders
“Will you please pick up your wet towel?”
“Yes, when you’re done with it,” he replied in a matter-of-fact tone.
My anger returned. “When
I’m
done with it. I didn’t…”
He placed a gentle finger over my lips and said the sweetest words I’d ever heard.
“I lay the towels down after I dry off from the shower. I use it to wipe up the water mess I drip onto the floor….”
I mumbled under his finger hold, interrupting him, as usual. “I know, but…”
He didn’t deter. “And I leave it there for a while just in case you walk into the bathroom. I don’t want you to slip.”
He smiled and gave me those puppy dog eyes.
“But I will be happy to go pick it up now that I know the floor is dry and you’re safe.”
I smiled back with embarrassment as he walked away, but couldn’t help myself from adding, “And would you please put the cap back on the toothpaste while you’re back there? Love you!”
* * * * * * * * *
T
iny tears trickle down my face now as I hold the towel against my skin, back in the real world. I chuckle at the thought that such a stupid little thing almost caused me to walk away from the most incredible man I’ve ever known.
I’d give anything to walk in here and see his wet towel on the floor. I’d even be happy to see his facial hair cover the sink again. Yep, it’s the little things I miss the most.
I finish packing his things in our room and closet, and it’s all the emotion I can take for now. I need to get on the road. I know his possessions are resting inside those boxes, but at least when I return I won’t have them displayed all around me. I take one last look around with a deep sigh and exit my bedroom.
Baby steps
, I remind myself.
Just before I reach the top of the stairway, I turn back to grab my phone off the bed. A sharp pain radiates in my lower stomach. I brush it off as indigestion or gas but the pain soon becomes so intense that I’m barely able to take another step. I look down and a stream of blood trickles down my legs.
I lower myself to the floor at a gradual pace and crawl the remaining distance back to my room. It takes all the energy I have to pull my phone from the bed to the floor and dial 9-1-1.
“911, where’s the emergency?”
“I’m bleeding … not sure … why.” My voice is broken and I’m out of breath. The female voice on the phone says, “I understand, ma’am. We’re going to get you some help. What is your address?” Her voice is calm and soothing.
“1422 … Oceanview … Drive.” My pain intensifies.
“Ma’am we’re sending an ambulance. I want you to stay on the phone with me until they arrive, okay? Can you tell me your name?”
I’m silent on the other end. Everything is black around me and I can’t speak.
I’m sure I’m dying.
CHAPTER SEVEN
M
y eyes are half-open again. I’m lying on a bed and there are white coats all around me. People are yelling things at each other and I can’t make out the exact words, but I hear an occasional familiar one like, “stat” and “ultrasound.”
I think I’m still alive.
My voice is barely present. The room is spinning and everyone is moving at lightning speed around me. I feel a soothing rush of relief penetrating my veins as I close my eyes again. Harley’s face appears – so clear, so vivid, so real.
“Hey, Jules.”
“Harley?” I’m tired and weak.
“It’s me, baby. Wow, you’ve been busy, huh?”
“I was just packing up some of your things.” To have to say this to him makes me sad, and nervous.
“I know. It’s okay. It’s good you’re moving on.”
His blue eyes are sparkling and a gorgeous smile paints his face. My eyelids are heavy as they drop toward my cheeks.
“You stay alive. Do you hear me?” Harley commands me. “You still have a lot of life to live yet. And it’s time for you to see your surprise.”
I want to get up off the bed and hold him, kiss him, and look around for the surprise. But I can’t move.
“Harley, I think I’m dying. I want to die. I want to be with you,’’ I say in a slow and desperate tone. “This wouldn’t be my fault. It would be natural causes and we can be together.”
He just smiles and shakes his head. “No, it’s not your time. One day we’ll be together, but not yet. Now, wake up and get ready for your life.” Harley doesn’t say another word. He’s gone again.
I open my eyes again and look around. I’m in a much less busy room now. There are sheer, white curtains over the window and a bouquet of purple roses on the table in the corner.
An African-American lady, probably in her mid-twenties, sporting pink scrubs and matching bright pink lipstick, enters the room. She’s beautiful with long, dark hair and pearly white teeth. I watch her come toward me and check the IV tube attached to my hand.
“Hello there, sunshine.” Her voice is cheerful and comforting.
“What am I doing here? What happened?” I ask.
“The doctor will be in to see you in a moment and explain everything. Get some rest. I’ll go get you some lunch. You need to keep up your energy more than ever now.” Her words are delivered with a wink.
She leaves the room and another lady in a white coat walks in.
“Hello, Ms. Decker. My name is Dr. Walsh. I’m the gynecologist on staff here.”
“Gynecologist?” My voice is a little stronger now.
She stands about five-foot-seven, with long, wavy, chestnut hair and bright green eyes. Judging by the condition of her skin, I’d venture to say she is probably about thirty-five, though with a doctor’s income, I’m sure Botox injections and weekly spa treatments aide in keeping her true age a well-hidden secret.
“You got here just in time.” She continues. “We were able to repair the damage and both you and your baby are doing just fine now.”
“Baby?” I sit up in the bed, in utter shock.
“Yes.” She flips through the papers on her clip board and continues. “According to the ultrasound, you’re about eighteen weeks along. You didn’t know?”
“No! I mean … I haven’t … you know … had sex in a while. How can I be pregnant?”
I sit and try to do the math in my head for a minute.
Yep, that’d be about right. It had to be the night before Harley was deployed.
A smile plays across my face and I rub my tummy. My happiness is replaced with an overwhelming sense of fear and regret in seconds.
“Oh, no! I’ve endangered my baby,” I say as I grab the doctor’s arm. “I haven’t been good to my body. I haven’t been eating well. I’ve drank wine, lots of wine! I haven’t been sleeping, and my husband is dead.” I break down in tears now and begin to hyperventilate.
She grabs my other arm with a soft touch and sits in the chair beside my bed.
“Breathe, Jewel. Breathe. Deep breaths. In and out.”
My respiration soon slows to a normal pace and she smiles at me.
“You’re not the first woman to not realize you’re pregnant. And you certainly aren’t the first one to have a few drinks or not take care of your body while carrying a baby. You and the baby are just fine. There was a small tear in the placenta, but we repaired it and everything is fine now. There’s no reason you can’t carry to full term, but you just need to be careful. I’d like you to be on bed rest for the next few weeks.”
“How could I not know I was pregnant?” I ask myself aloud, my hand rubbing across my forehead.
She continues, “Many women, especially during their first pregnancy, don’t feel the baby move until around week twenty, and some have no previous symptoms.”
“I’ve noticed a little bit of nausea and fatigue, but never once thought those symptoms would be due to pregnancy.” I pause a minute, “But that would explain my recent unusual food cravings, and my lack of interest in seafood, which I typically devour.”
She hands me a couple of small pieces of paper. “Here is a prescription for prenatal vitamins and a list of a few OB/GYN practices in the area that I recommend. You need to choose a primary doctor as soon as possible. Prenatal care is vital to your health and that of the baby, especially with your condition. Your doctor will also need to run some tests to check for things like Down Syndrome and gestational diabetes. I’ll follow up with you in a couple of weeks to see how you’re feeling.” My eyes are wide and my brows are furrowed.
“It will all be fine. These are just precautions,” she assures me and then exits the room.
My head is spinning just thinking about all of these terms. But I’m elated. I’m having a baby.
Harley’s baby.
* * * * * * * * *
A
pparently, the hospital had called my mom while I was in surgery because she sprints into my room just as Dr. Walsh leaves.
“Jewel. Sweetheart. Are you okay?”
“Mom, what are you doing here?”
“I’m your emergency contact, darling.”
That’s right. I guess since Harley is no longer living, they move to the next of kin.
“How are you feeling? Do you need anything? What happened?” My mom is hysterical, as any mom would be seeing her baby lying in a hospital bed without knowing the reason.
“Mom, I’m okay.” I rub my tummy and smile. “
We’re
okay.”
It takes her a minute to grasp my message, but her look of confusion changes to that of elation within seconds.
“What? You’re … you’re pregnant?”
“Yep, about eighteen weeks.”
We both burst into tears, happy tears, and share a strong embrace.
“How? I mean … I know
how
, but … how?”
“I’ll explain everything later. I’m just ready to get home.
“Alright, honey. I’ll take care of your discharge papers and get your things together.” She gives me a soft hug. “Yay, I’m going to be a grandma!”
* * * * * * * * *
I
’m back at home, resting in my own bed. Mom is fussing over me, fluffing my pillow, forcing food and fluids down my throat, dusting the entire room.
“Honey, why don’t you come stay with me and Dan until the baby is born?”
“No, Mom. Thanks for the offer, but I’d really be more comfortable in my own bed. Plus, my doctor will be here, and I want to deliver the baby at the hospital here. They have a top-notch facility and I hear the neonatal program is phenomenal. Besides, it’s important to me that the baby comes home to this house—the house Harley chose for us to have a family in.”
My eyes are fixed on the floor now. He’ll never be the one to carry the baby into our home, help me with the midnight feedings and hold my hand during labor.
Mom notices my sadness and perks up with a rebuttal. “Okay, well, I am just going to come stay with you and I won’t take
no
for an answer.”
“What about your job, Mom?”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you? Dan makes enough money with his job that I was able to quit mine. I retired early.”
“Okay, if you’re sure? That sounds good. In fact, why don’t you and Dan both come? I have plenty of room.”
“That would be wonderful, dear. I’ll call him and discuss it. I’m sure it won’t be a problem, since most of his work can be done online.”
“Okay, it’s settled.” I turn over and try to rest a bit more. I’ve never been so exhausted in my life.
It will be nice to have a man around the house again, though I wish Harley was that man. He always wanted children. In fact, he wanted a lot of children. I told him I’d be happy with one or twelve, as long as they were with him, because I knew he would make an incredible father one day.
I rub my tummy. He was right. This is the best surprise I could ever hope for. And if I can’t have him back, I will at least have this part of him forever.
Mom interrupts my thoughts by asking, “Can I get you anything before I go call Dan?”
“Not right now, thanks. I’m just so tired.”
“That’s part of it, dear. Carrying a child really does take a lot of energy.”
“You know, I’ve never believed other women when they’ve said that to me, but now I’m convinced I have a long journey ahead of me. If I’m this tired while the baby is still inside me, I worry how I’ll manage when I’m chasing him or her around the house in the years to come.”
“God doesn’t give us anything we can’t handle, Jewel.” My mom reassures me while she rubs my shoulder.
I fall asleep with a huge smile on my face.
I wonder if it’s a boy or a girl.
* * * * * * * * *
T
he gentle ocean breeze tickles my still-smiling face as I awake from my glorious dream. I dreamt Harley was home and we were decorating the nursery for the baby. He hadn’t a clue of how to assemble the crib and I was laughing at his ineptness.
Finally, a good dream.
I sit up in bed and hear my mom humming and talking to herself in the spare room down the hall. I look over in the corner of my room and the plastic bins are missing. My feet carry me a few steps across the floor to meet Mom. She’s already cleaned out the furniture in the room and is standing at the bay window with a measuring tape.
“Hello, darling. Sleep well?” she says.
“Like a rock,” I reply and rub my tummy. “What are you doing?
“Measuring for the baby furniture, of course.”
She’s uber-excited about her first grandchild and I let her have the moment. She continues to make a list out loud, to me, or herself, I’m not sure.
“Okay, the crib can go here. And you’ll need a changing table, and a rocking chair, and a chest of drawers. Oh wait, that won’t fit there. Hmm.”
“Mom, we still have a few months. We’ll figure it out,” I remind her.
“I know, darling, but I’m just so excited. Sometimes babies come early, you know? You made your grand entrance two weeks before schedule.”
“I know, Mom.” I roll my eyes as I prepare for the story I’ve heard a thousand times.
“Yep, your dad was working out of town and I was on the way to the grocery store when my water broke. I pulled over on the side of the road and called 911. By the time they arrived, you’d already popped your little head out to greet the world. You’ve always been impatient.” She pauses for a moment and smiles. I know what’s coming next. “And I did it…”
“All by myself and without a single aspirin,” I reply in unison with her. I feel bad every time she tells that story, because I caused her so much pain. But in this moment, I’m becoming apprehensive about the pain my little one might cause me during child birth. It will be worth every tear and scream I have to endure.
“By the way, Mom. Did you see what happened to those pink, plastic tubs I had in my room?”
She’s quiet for a moment and places her arms around me.
“Yes, honey. I put Harley’s things in the garage. I hope that’s okay.” Her eyes are loving and concerned.
“Thanks, Mom. I probably wouldn’t have been able to do it for a while. I just miss him so much.”
I rub my tummy and she offers me another hug then breaks our sad moment with her usual cheerfulness.
“I’m starved. Let’s take a break and go get some lunch.”
“Sounds good. I’ll go get dressed and be right there.” I reply.
I head back to my room and call out with my back to her, “After lunch, maybe we can go shopping and find me some clothes that fit.” I think I actually hear her jump for joy in the other room.
I take a minute to call Gretchen and Chelsea to share the good news.
“OMG, Jules, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!” Gretchen can barely contain her excitement. “You have to let me plan the baby shower for you.”
“You can get with my mom to work that out. I don’t think I’m supposed to have anything to do with it. I’m not sure how all these baby traditions work,” I reply with a chuckle.