Perfect

by Jenny Wood

Gestational hypertension. Women with gestational hypertension have high blood pressure that develops after 20 weeks of pregnancy. There is no excess protein in the urine or other signs of organ damage. Some women with gestational hypertension eventually develop preeclampsia.

  Chronic hypertension. Chronic hypertension is high blood pressure that was present before pregnancy or that occurs before 20 weeks of pregnancy. But because high blood pressure usually doesn't have symptoms, it might be hard to determine when it began.

  Chronic hypertension with superimposed preeclampsia. This condition occurs in women with chronic hypertension before pregnancy who develop worsening high blood pressure and protein in the urine or other blood pressure-related complications during pregnancy.

  Preeclampsia. Preeclampsia occurs when hypertension develops after 20 weeks of pregnancy and is associated with signs of damage to other organ systems, including the kidneys, liver, blood or brain. Untreated preeclampsia can lead to serious — even fatal — complications for mother and baby, including the development of seizures (eclampsia).

  Sitting at my station in between clients today, I pulled out my phone, much like I did when I researched Morgan’s cancer back in the day, and read up what it all meant. It was a terrible idea then, and it’s a terrible idea now. I don’t know why people took themselves to the internet to research health information. I knew better. But, I was worried and looking for some peace of mind; what I got instead was bucket loads more to worry about. It could cause organ damage; it could be fatal to mom and the babies… why the fuck did her doctor, let her leave the hospital? Should I suggest she get a new one? One who knows what they’re doing? Should I tell Morgan? Prepare him for the possibilities? I wasn’t sure!

  “King, your 2 o’clock…what’s wrong?” Kayson asks, probably noticing the look of abject fear in my expression. I hand him my phone, though I’d already told him that Haley was experiencing pregnancy-related problems, I didn’t figure he’d know what this particular one meant.

  “I thought we agreed after last time you were gonna stay off the internet?” He hands my phone and looks me over rather accusatory.

  “I don’t want to be blindsided by something like this, Kayse. I need to know my options, how I can help. I need those babies and their mother to be okay because if they aren’t, then my husband isn’t okay and I’ve had enough of my husband not being okay to last me twelve lifetimes.” I explain unnecessarily. I know I don’t have to; I know he gets it because he’d been there with me through it all. Morgan being sick, remission, our other adoption not working out. He’d been my shoulder to cry on numerous times when I needed to be strong for Morgan but needed my time to fall apart.

  “Think positive, Bro; the doctor wouldn’t have let her leave the hospital if he thought she or the babies were in danger. Right?” He tries to reassure me, but I’ve never met this doctor; it could be some quack that got his medical degree offline!

  “Hey, whatever it is you’re thinking, knock it off.” Kayson must’ve read my panic, and I know I’m probably being irrational, but these could be our babies. I take a deep breath and put my phone away, trying like hell to wipe my mind of what could possibly go wrong and remember lying in bed with Morgan last night and naming what I pray to be our soon-to-be son and daughter. “That’s better.” Kayson slapped my shoulder and stood up from my chair that I’d have to re-wipe down now that he’d sat it in, the dick.

  “Thanks, man,” I tell him anyway, knowing he probably drug me from the wormhole that is WebMD.

  “No problem, Daddy.” He grinned as I rolled my eyes. “I was just going to tell you that your 2 o’clock was running late and needed to be pushed back about a half an hour. There’s a wreck or something just outside town, and she’s stuck in traffic. Wade said it was a bad one; traffic is at a standstill.” He lets me know, and I say a quick prayer for everyone involved. Grabbing my disinfectant and a roll of clean paper towel, I wipe down my station once again and try like hell to forget everything the internet says could happen to our babies.

  After my client finally turned up, I had learned that the wreck hadn’t been as bad I’d feared, but the cleanup took forever because it involved a tipped over semi-tractor trailer and a lot of spillage. Thankful that nobody was hurt, the angel/cemetery memorial I inked on this chick’s back was done in one sitting, due to her living out of town. By the time Kayson locked the doors for the night, I was just getting her finished. She was a young woman, early thirties and had just recently lost her brother from a drug overdose and the piece was dedicated to him, and how she hoped now, he’d found his peace. I felt for her, and it was one of those times where my job felt important.

  Hearing a knocking on the shop door as I was cleaning up, I heard Kayson’s, “Hey baby,” followed by soft talking and giggling. Sometimes it still surprised me that my big brother had done a complete 180 the day he met his husband, Conner.

  “King, we’re headed to the diner to meet Wade and Foster, you want us to wait? You can join us.” Conner invited me, and I took out my phone to see two missed text from Morgan.

  My Baby: Starting to feel a headache coming on, could you pick up dinner on your way home, please?

  My Baby: Bad one, going to bed. Kiss me when you get home.

  “Thanks, but Morgan isn’t feeling well, I think I’ll just head home. Tell the guys I said “hey.” They both agreed and said their goodbyes as I finished closing up for the night. I didn’t text Morgan back, afraid that I’d disturb him if he were resting. He was prone to getting bad headaches from time to time, probably a side effect of having brain surgery a handful of years ago. Instead, I cashed out the register and filed the receipts. I made sure everything was clean and ready to go for tomorrow; though I didn’t come in, Jody, Finn, and Joker would be here for most of the day.

  The deli across the street was closed, but I’d seen Carl over there with his grandson Eric who was staying with him while his father was overseas. I knew they were closed, but I’d hoped they’d take pity on me and still had some soup that I could take home to Morgan. It would be light on his stomach, and I was a sucker for their three-bean chili. Eric let me in, and Carl kept me talking for much longer than I anticipated, but it was reasons like those that I’d be happy to raise my kids in this small town. The thought made me smile as I left with more food than I needed and I tipped Carl and his grandson heavily before I left.

  The house was dark when I got home, but it was only after nine. I sat the soups on the counter in the kitchen and went to make sure everything was okay. Creeping into the bedroom I shared with my husband, I saw his small, half-naked body, curled up into a ball in the far corner of my side of the bed. I still often times wondered how I got so lucky; how it was that I was this much in love and this happy.

  “You’re home,” Morgan said sleepily, reaching his hand towards me at the door.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask quietly, not wanting to disturb him if he still needed rest. He didn’t look to be in any pain, and his smile was soft and sweet.

  “Better, I took some medicine and think I just needed to sleep it off. How was work?” He asks, turning his body just

  slightly and laying his head on my lap with his arms around my waist.

  “Good, Glad to be home, though.” I run my fingers through his soft hair and feel his hum of contentment as his body relaxes. Even with the promise of adding to our family; knowing how long we’ve wanted it and how close we were to getting it, running my fingers through my husband’s hair while his body is draped over mine; I can’t help but think that this is pretty damn close to perfect.

  Morgan

  “It’s like pre-destined that girls will be more into clothes than boys; look at this selection! The little boy section is a third of this size.” Cameron complains as we walk into the third baby clothing store in two counties.

  “Lenny’s closet is ridiculous, do not let me buy her anything in here,” Jay says, even though he’s thumbing through a rack of pajama sets.
/>   “Yeah, right.” Jase snickers, walking beside Cameron with a cart.

  “We need to check out the boy stuff. Everything in the nursery is girly.” I tell them. It’s been a while since I’ve been in there; it’s still painful for me to remember. I’m going to have to get over it though because the babies will be here in two more weeks!

  “You guys should have a baby shower,” Conner commented, picking up the different stuffed animals like he had to pick the most perfect one.

  “We did that already, remember? We can’t have a second one.” I remind him. He was the one who’d set it up.

  “That wasn’t a baby shower. That was your family throwing a birthday party.” He replies quietly. “This one will be different.” He sounds so sure. I’ve gotta admit, I’m still terrified out of my mind that something will fall through, but the more I talk to Haley and Bree, the easier things are to believe.

  “Joker is ecstatic that he’s finally going to have a boy around. Did I show y’all the picture of he and Lenny having a spa day?” Jase asked, whipping his phone out and scrolling through his pictures. Sure enough, there was a picture of Finn and Jay’s daughter, Lennon, lying on her belly on the floor, painting the very manly looking, Joker’s toe-nails. We all crack up at the picture I cannot wait to tell Kingsley about that.

  “Laugh all you want to, man; give it a few years; you’ll be no stranger to makeup, fingernail polish and hair bows!” Jay quipped.

  “I hope so,” I answer quietly, while the guys beg Jay to send them the pictures, no doubt for blackmail or just endless ribbing.

  “How’s Haley been feeling? Any change?” Cameron asks me as we all spread out, grabbing anything remotely cute that resembles “boy.”

  “She says the headaches and swelling are the same but she hasn’t had any dizzy spells in the last couple days and her blood pressure has only been borderline high,” I tell him, recounting the last conversation I had with her last night.

  “It’s still borderline high, even with medication?” He questions, looking surprised. I have to say, with him being a nurse and especially working on the pediatric floor, I didn’t find that comforting.

  “With medication and complete bed rest,” I tell him honestly. His eyes go wide for a second before he hides it, but it causes the ball of worry in the pit of my stomach to get bigger.

  “Who’s her doctor?” He asks, feigning nonchalance and failing miserably. I’ve known him too long to believe he’s not worried.

  “O’Grady?” I tell him, hoping that was the name she’d mentioned last night. He looked relieved by that, and I was glad.

  “Oh good, Josh O’Grady is top notch. I’m not just saying that.” He tells me, putting an especially cute sleeper in his shopping bucket. “He’s fairly new, but I’m impressed with him. I don’t work with him often, as he’s more of a high-risk specialist, but I saw him go toe-to-toe with Dr. Shannon a couple of weeks ago, and she’s the head of our department. No one goes against Dr. Shannon but, because he did, the baby survived. An undiagnosed defect that he spotted right away. It was a miracle, really.” He tells me, and for a second, I’m happy. It sucks not being the one in control of things when it’s something this important.

  “I’d tell you not to worry, but I know you.” Jay teases, elbowing me as we shop. When we all meet at the register, I see that of my friends that insisted they come shopping with me today has no less than a full handheld, shopping bucket filled to the brim with stuff for soon-to-be, little boy. (And Jay who has a cart full of blues, greens, blacks, and cammo; I see at least three things with pink. I knew he couldn't resist.) But for the first time, for just moment, I let myself be truly excited.

  After an early lunch and a fun day with the guys, Conner dropped me and my seven bags at home. The rest of the guys followed behind and stayed for lunch, where Cameron made finger sandwiches while I sorted through the different sacks and thanked everyone for being so generous. I’d only asked them to come with me because shopping is always fun with a partner and Kingsley had to work. I didn’t expect them all to come, but I was glad they did. And not only because they’d all went all out and I knew my babies weren’t going to want for anything with these guys around.

  Now, everyone was gone, and I had a dresser that needed putting together as well as piles of sleepers to go in the said dresser, and loads of outfits to be hung up. There were diapers that could be stored by size in the closet, and enough wipe’s to clean the entire Great Wall of China. But, staring at the door to the nursery, I was nervous to go in.

  Taking purposefully small steps to the door, I was surprised I’d gotten there so quickly. I wasn’t ready. The last time I’d been in this room, I was so hopeful and happy. We should’ve redone it; repainted and made it a room for Wyatt and Gracie and not for the little girl who never got to see it. My hand on the knob, I closed my eyes and pushed the door open before I could talk myself out of it. The paint smell hit me immediately, and my eyes sprung open to see a completely different room than the one I remembered.

  Gone was the pink and white lacy curtains and the pink and purple colored walls. The crib was cherry wood, but the blankets and padding inside was no longer the “My Little Pony” that it had once been; it was replaced by a simple, purple and blue padding set that said, “Daddy’s Angel’s” in little doodles, with hearts and stars and moons and clouds. I felt like my knees were going to go out when I saw the pictures that adorned the now creamy off-white and navy and maroon colored walls were of our friends and family, and most importantly of Kingsley and me. There were new toys and stuffed animals everywhere and the dressers, changing table and rocking chair was the same, but everything else looked so totally different. I couldn’t believe Kingsley had done this. It looked perfect.

  What made it even more so, was the tiny little black and white sonogram picture that sat on the dresser in a frame that said “Lilly.” I grabbed it off the edge and fell into the rocking chair. It hurt, remembering how much I loved her, even though I didn’t get to keep her. It was probably one of the hardest things I’d ever gone through….

  “I feel like I failed you,” I tell the grainy square. “I think maybe if I would’ve fought harder for you, you’d be here with us right now.”

  “That’s not true,” Kingsley says softly from the door. I hadn’t heard him come in. “And it wouldn’t be fair; she’s lucky she got a mom that loved her so much that she couldn’t stand to give her up. I wish all kids were that lucky.” He says. Of course, he’s right. I’m being selfish. I wanted her for him and for me; but I’d gotten to know her mother, I knew she loved her beyond anything else. I knew she was sacrificing so much by keeping her.

  “You’re right.” I concede. My pity party is just that….me feeling sorry for myself because I missed what we’d almost had. Kingsley kneels on the floor by my feet and leans back against my legs, taking in the room that he’d transformed for our new babies.

  “I think everything’s going to work this time, baby. I think in a couple of short weeks, our babies will be here. We’ll be sleep deprived and cranky, and I’ll go to work with spit up and shit streaks on my good shirts.” I can tell he’s smiling, I can hear it in his voice.

  “Thank you for doing this; the room looks perfect.” I finish.

  “It’s perfect.” He replies.

  Painting is something I used to use in my life to escape my reality. That was before I’d met my husband. When I was younger, I had so much anger and resentment for the world. I felt abandoned and unwanted, and I didn’t know what to do with the pain of it all. Until, Mrs. Mabel. She was my last foster home, and by far the best. She helped me channel all my negative energy, all of my feelings into painting. My mood reflected my work, so when I was happy, things tended to be brighter and more focused; when I was down or depressed about something, it was gloomy and dark. When I was anxious or worried, things tended to be blurry and out of focus, hurried. Today, I was focused. Anxious, still…but focused.

  Waking up this m
orning from another call from Haley had me on edge, but it turned out, bed-rest was boring, and she just needed someone to talk to. I’d promised that I’d drop by to see her later this morning. If I’m being honest, I was missing the belly. The last time Kingsley and I had seen her; she let me feel the babies. Wyatt was on the right side, and he was down a little lower than Gracie, who was on the left and tended to want to snug up underneath Haley’s ribs. I’m told it could get quite painful, but Haley took it all in stride. She let me talk to them, and I thought that I’d feel silly doing it, but every time I’d start to talk, one of them would nudge or wriggle around, and I could feel them under my hands. It was wild. Kingsley’s voice was deeper, but he didn’t speak any louder than I did; still, when they heard Kingsley speaking to them, their movements were more jerky, and they became more active. I couldn’t wait to meet them and time seemed to be going so slow.

  “Baby, I’m headed out. You need anything before I go?” Kingsley asks, standing just outside the door to my studio.

  “I’m good.” I smiled at him and watched him wink. He was gorgeous; after all this time, he still took my breath away. “I love you,” I tell him, just because I can. I watch his face get soft as he smiles and walks to me. He stops just before he gets to me, and I lean just slightly into his space. He doesn’t make me wait, he bends his neck and presses his lips to mine. Swiping his tongue against my bottom lip, I open and let him taste me expertly.

  “I love you, too.” He says, giving me a last, quick peck and backing up. “Gonna be late.” He winks, heading for the door.

  “I’m going to see Haley this afternoon, will you have time to do lunch? I can bring it to you, or we can go to Bailey’s?” I ask before he leaves.

  “My last early appointment should end around 2. What time are you going?”

  “Around eleven, probably.” I shrug, I didn’t set a time, I just said: “later this afternoon.”