‘I see, well I hope you have a crane then.’ She looked back at me, bewildered.
‘You know, to get me back up again,’ I responded, half-serious. The lecturer just stared at me, her brow creasing with concern.
‘I’ll just go sit down,’ I muttered back, padding across to the mat.
We began with the usual icebreakers, introducing your neighbour, two truths and a lie game, then proceeded with announcing our due dates and sex of our babies if known.
Most of the women extended their introductions to include information about their partners and what they did for a living. I was right in my early impressions. Executive wives whose husbands were the CEO’s of some of the city’s biggest companies surrounded me. They even discussed recent vacations amongst which were tropical islands I had never heard of, let alone be able to spell, and hotels fit for royalty; I would hazard a guess.
It was getting closer and closer to my turn and I could feel the blood pooling in my cheeks. What was I going to say in response to their jet set lifestyles, I did not even have a passport.
I was saved by the ever-dependable pregnant woman’s bladder, and by the time she had returned we were starting the, what to expect when labour is imminent portion of the day.
The class seemed to go on and on, how to breathe when you are pushing a rhino out your lady bits, how to not throw up all over the doctor or scream obscenities when pushing said rhino out. Why had I come to this class? In addition, how could I make a quick getaway? I was not looking forward to labour as it was and I certainly did not feel any better for attending this class that no doubt cost a fortune, but I was not paying so what did I have to complain about. My little flexible friend was, known by the name Lucifer.
This piece of plastic could buy you anything you needed from cotton to darn your socks, should you have those proclivities, to a sock factory where you would never have those embarrassing moments that I was now facing. Having to remove my shoes to commune on the mats with all the other beached whales, only to discover I have a hole the size of Brazil in my sock. Speaking of Brazil, I yet again managed to turn a brighter shade of crimson at the break-out session when two of the fellow whales were talking about Brazilians.
Now I being me and all, someone who would not dream of torturing myself and pouring burning hot wax on my legs let alone thought that women would choose, yes choose, to do the same in their most sensitive parts, nearly choked on my decaf coffee when asked had I got mine done.
My response of, you have got to be kidding why would I ever did not go down well with Susanna, daughter of Hew of Stewartsville or something like that. Petite girl, except for the blubber of course, with her tamed dark locks in a bun so tight she looked like she was giving herself a face lift though I’m sure that’s on the agenda for conversation next, tummy tucks and boob jobs.
I excused myself to use the ladies’ room and stared at the girl I once knew in the mirror, though the reflection has somewhat changed shape, I could see myself if I contorted here and there. My long blonde hair was pulled up into a ponytail and my Casper-like skin had flecks of pink from my earlier moment of ridicule, or were they burst blood vessels? Who knows, carrying on board a two-ton truck weight tends to have its effect on one’s skin. Just ask the stretch marks, all fifty thousand of them. Coconut oil my ass, rubbing that in three times a day and constantly smelling like a bounty bar had done nothing to halt the subway map that was now firmly transposed to my once flat stomach.
Oh well, time to return to class and be ridiculed some more. I headed out the bathroom and across into the mock birthing suite, re-joining the beached whales back on the mat.
The next part of the class we were to discuss breastfeeding, and this was something I felt passionate about doing. Why would anyone choose to give their infant milk from another species when they produced the most nourishing five-course meal themselves? To my utter astonishment there was only one other hand up indicating they were willing to try to breastfeed their baby.
Leah, I remember from the introductions, was a very articulate woman and actually appeared somewhat out of place in the group almost as much as I did. She had the matching rhino belly, but on contrast to my paleness, she was tanned with dark hair and green olive eyes, cat-shaped and very striking.
Seeing both our hands up Susanna piped up with the usual nonsense you often hear concerning breastfeeding.
‘I don’t see the need, we are not from a third world country and I can certainly afford formula,’ Suzanna scoffed.
‘It’s disgusting, boobs are for sex,’ Jane replied, turning her nose up in the air as if trying to avert a very putrid odour penetrating her piggy-shaped, three nose jobs later, nostrils.
Leah just stared down, but not me, I looked them both straight in the eyes and let rip.
‘Did you really just say that? I mean seriously, you cannot possibly believe that. Breastfeeding your child has nothing to do with lack of money or a sexual nature. You are the one that is disgusting for even thinking it; let alone saying it. Here was me thinking I was amongst smart educated women and I hear that coming out of your mouth. Tell me this then, if breastfeeding was not the most natural thing in the world to do and as nature intended, why do you think we produce milk?’
Neither replied, they just looked at me scornfully as if I was not worth replying to and before I could say anything further the lecturer called the group to order.
‘Shall we break for coffee, ladies, and we will re-group for birth plans and pain relief.’ She actually sounded a little nervous at the end as though this group was not going to the usual schedule.
I gathered my huge belly up to try to shuffle back into my shoes, hide the gaping black hole in my sock, and smiled at Leah with an incredulous expression on my face. She raised her eyes, smiled a little too in return, and exited to I can only assume seek refreshments.
I was not in the mood for more coffee, instead opting for bottled water, letting out a cough when the bubbles penetrated the back of my throat. Of course they could not just serve still water, no that would be for peasants, I mused to myself, catching a glimpse of Susanna and Jane watching me in the corner of my eye and giggling like two pathetic schoolgirls, wobbling off together.
I thought from behind they both looked like two dairy cows, the kind they would no doubt rather feed their offspring from, and I pitied them for their self-righteous ignorance.
My phone went off then, taking me out of my reverie when I saw the name appear. It was Nicholi, my baby daddy, as I am sure Susanna of Stewartsville would be hysterical at discovering my secret.
‘Hey, baby, how’s it going?’ said the voice I had been longing to hear all morning, his dulcet tone radiating deep down.
‘Oh you know, girls together and all that, lots of hormones and baby talk,’ I replied nonchalantly. What was I really going to say, I wanted to leave the second I walked through the door.
‘Good, talk later then,’ and he was gone as quickly as the stick turned positive.
I will never forget seeing the word, pregnant flash up before my eyes, an array of emotions flooding through me. I had always wanted children, but not with a man I was not married to. Despite my situation, I was determined to be the best mother I could be and my babies were the world to me even though I constantly moaned about lugging my camel hump in what felt like the Sahara Desert every day.
They say you glow when you are pregnant, more like a sweaty sheen in my opinion. I felt constantly on fire inside and just wanted to sit in a pool of water all day. I loved the water and being pregnant, the water sure had healing properties like no other. I felt free, able to move around without feeling like I was carrying Pluto up my shirt, my back constantly in agony.
I saw the group starting to edge back towards the room and took a deep breath, as much as possible when your lungs feel like they are in a vice, and plodded back resuming my shuffle to try to take my shoes off, hide the ever growing, bordering on country-sized, hole in my sock and sat down.
>
‘Okay, ladies, shall we start with our birth plans, Susanna, would you like to share?’ the lecturer asked politely.
She was a very petite lady; around thirty-five years old I estimated and turned her wedding ring round and round whenever she spoke. I wondered if it gave her comfort or was just out of habit.
‘Scheduled C-section of course, with as much pain medication as possible,’ she boomed back without hesitation.
The lecturer went around the group one by one and the response was unanimous. Until she reached Leah.
‘Me, ah, well,’ she was stumbling with her response and not at all as articulate as she had been at the beginning of the class.
‘Scheduled C-section,’ she almost whispered then lowered her eyes, averting Susanna’s smug grin.
‘Sophia and your birth plan is?’ The lecturer looked expectantly at me for my response.
‘Well,’ I began. ‘A birth plan is as the name suggests just a plan of ideas, no one knows what labour will be like for them until it starts so I am keeping mine as flexible as possible.’ The lecturer was nodding in approval while I continued. ‘I would, however, like to be in the water to give birth, it helps so much with the pain.’ Before I could finish my thought, a cackling came from the other side of the room. Susanna, of course.
‘I get it now,’ she began, still greatly amused by my answer. ‘You’re one of those hippy types aren’t you?’ Sounding more like an accusation and definitely not a good one in her mind, I suspected.
‘Each to their own,’ was all I could muster. I was completely exhausted; my ass was numb from communing on the mat, what is wrong with bloody chairs anyway? My back felt like a magician had been sawing me in half all afternoon, and I was done with these people who clearly thought they were above me and anyone else with an alternative viewpoint. I am all for debate, but this was just getting silly. I stifled a yawn and shuffled my foot around, the hole in my sock now the size of a continent and impossible to conceal any further.
Susanna looked like she was about to chirp again when there was a knock at the door and a woman walked in. I remembered her from the reception area, very smartly dressed with a wireless headset on that she was constantly mouthing into. I noticed she was still wearing said headpiece, and I mused to myself whether she even had to wear it to the bathroom. Reception, pee. Please hold, flush. Connecting.
I was awoken from my daydream by the sound of my name.
‘I have a package for Sophia Nichols,’ she began. ‘Reception, please hold, connecting.’ She stood in place and the lecturer rose to collect the package, placing it in my arms with a smile and started chatting to the woman stood next to her.
I saw Susanna eyeing the package with curiosity that spread to disdain and maybe a hint of jealously.
‘Do you know how many calories are in that?’ She squinted at the box, turning her nose in the air and announcing that we should all exchange telephone numbers and catch up after our C-sections for coffee. I noted she did not rush over to get my number, but I did not care one bit. I looked down at the package that had been placed in front of me and my eyes filled with delight, relief, and then curiosity. There was a card attached, sliding my finger under the envelope flap to loosen the seal, my mouth watered at the giant box of cheesecake beaming back up at me. I thought you might need this. L was all the card said, but I knew immediately whom it was from. Cross, he was back.
I opened the box and without thinking for a moment of where I was, I took a slice and sunk my teeth in. The cheesecake melted in my mouth and turned every second of this horrendous day into blissful joy.
‘There is a god,’ was all I muttered in between chewing and swallowing and gathered up my belongings to leave. Cheesecake resting on my belly that was serving as a table, I padded, holey sock and all, back to my shoes and away from this nightmare day.
Exiting the building, I looked up at the sky, the sun blazing down upon my face. My skin drinking in the unadulterated goodness until the on-fire urge hit and I quickly removed my jacket, stuffing it into my bag while trying to balance my divine cheesecake. It was no mean feat with the rhino belly and I did not see him approach.
‘Need some help?’ He was there, in front of me, the moment I had dreamed about for the last six months. He looked different somehow, older; wiser even. His hair had grown and was windswept in a sultry way, his eyes sparkling into mine. I was lost in them, unable to vocalise anything, let alone put one foot in front of the other to close the distance. ‘Hi.’ Cross’s voice was low and seductive, my body was pulsing with desire for a man I should have long left behind.
‘Hi,’ was all I could muster as he took the initiative and pulled me into his arms. It felt like coming home. After embracing for what seemed like an eternity in the street, all the unspoken words that had been circulating in my mind pulsed throughout my body into his.
‘I think there is something between us,’ he replied, laughing, a melodic sound, ah I had missed him.
‘There sure is, my little munchkins.’ I grinned stroking my enormous belly. ‘It’s two girls.’ My voice was almost a whisper, still realising that he was actually here.
‘That is amazing, Sophia, come, you should get off your feet, would you like to have a coffee with me?’ His expression was guarded, apprehensive. Was he crazy? After six months of radio silence, I was ready to talk in many ways. Taking my hand, he walked me to the nearby coffee shop, and I sat while Cross acquired refreshments. The waitress was virtually drooling over him and flushed magenta when he pointed to our table, though he wasn’t mine and I blushed back, a beacon for the moment of enlightenment that we were about to partake in.
‘She will bring them over in a minute.’ Cross sat down, crossed his legs and turned to me; our eyes locked trying to breach each other’s minds without words. ‘It has been a while,’ he muttered, running his hands through his hair, I almost forgot to breath.
‘Your hair got long.’
‘Will you cut it for me?’
‘Yes.’ The waitress interrupted, delivering the ordered drinks, and I took a sip of my fruit smoothie, the luscious fresh strawberries and lime zinging as they slipped suggestively down my throat.
‘You’re not wearing your engagement ring.’ He reached across the table and took my hand in his, stroking my knuckles, I froze and gently removed my hand.
‘No I’m not. After you left…’ I gulped; this was not something I ever liked to think about. ‘It was difficult, I have been seeing a therapist who deals with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and it’s helping.’ Cross smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.
‘I’m glad. To say it was difficult for me too would be an understatement, Sophia, it was sheer torture and I don’t have the strength to run away from you anymore.’
‘So don’t.’ I said the words without even thinking them through and immediately recoiled, staring at anything, the floor, the tiny speck of a crumb on the otherwise quaint tablecloth. Anything, but his face. Peeking up from the spot on the tablecloth I had chosen to fixate on, his expression was one of shock, joy, adulation and then curiosity.
‘What are you saying?’ His voice was husky and nervous, my heartbeat rising with ever second.
‘My therapist thinks that the reason I can’t let you go is because I resonate happy memories with you,’ I replied, taking another sip of my drink, the ice slipping down to chill my raw emotions.
‘So, don’t.’ Echoing the words I had spoken moments earlier, this time I was the one shocked and very confused.
‘You can’t leave when the going gets tough and believe me, it would be tough, I’m so full of baggage the conveyor belt snapped a long time ago. Ouch.’ One of the babies had kicked me in the ribs and at this stage of pregnancy, it bloody hurt. Gone were the, how cute moments watching them squirm in my belly to the, please be gentle that hurts mommy moments, just like this.
‘May I?’ He reached out his hand, and I gently placed it on my stomach, desperately trying to calm my now palpitatio
ns at the feel of his hand on mine and the girls were no let down, kicking and turning around, loving the attention. ‘That’s a miracle.’ Watching my belly move underneath my white shirt that was barely able to hold it in, I smiled.
‘They are in every way possible and Jake is ecstatic he will have sisters to play with.’ Just the thought of the three of them bounding around the house gave me so much hope this could work. ‘I told Nicholi after you left about the kiss and how I felt, and we are working on our relationship as co-parents. I love him deeply and always will, but I can’t forget the love we shared and we have now come full circle,’ I muttered, sighing with the weight of a planet heavy on my shoulders.
‘I have a room in the hotel across the road, we can talk, there is so much to say, Sophia, will you come with me?’ He once again held his hand out for me and this time I took it without hesitation, clasping on to the hopes and dreams I had before that fateful night and letting them lead me where they may.
***
In The End
It had been two weeks since Cross had returned, fourteen blissful, heavenly days. The line from the much loved movie, Forrest Gump, “Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get,” is so apt to describe my life thus far. Everything was ripped away from me in one moment then came back ten-fold in ways I did not even think were possible. I had two of the most honourable, loving and compassionate men in my lives, melding me into their image as we go, healing the once crushed heart, no longer soiled and ragged.
Raising my sister’s son as my own and carrying my two bundles of joy, life was perfect and though it was still a huge learning curve for me, I was starting to feel I could do this, life wasn’t such a turbulent mystery anymore, hope overshadowed doubt, happiness ridiculed sadness and fear was non-existent. I was complacent; I got too caught up in my own life to see the bigger picture. I was reckless and unprepared, she took advantage of this and now I was at her mercy.
In The End (Butterfly #1) Page 23