by Tiana Cole
I just smiled and said nothing.
“Guess you must be pretty excited,” she went on. “Is it your first?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Well congratulations. Bobby and I won't be having any children for some time. We both have our careers and I'm still too young.”
“How old are you?” I asked. She looked eighteen but I knew she was older.
“I'm twenty six.”
Just the age I was when Mark and I got married. “Well don't leave it too long,” I told her.
The agent called and told me that the couple wanted to put in an offer on the apartment. I accepted it because I wanted them in particular to live there. I wanted it to bring them luck and happiness. I wanted our love to rub off on them and mostly I wanted a baby to be conceived under the very ceiling that Mark decorated especially for me.
My new apartment was a rental. After clearing some debts, mostly IVF treatment money we'd borrowed from family, Mark and I split the remainder. But I rented because I didn't want the commitment of staying in New York. Just in case. I wanted to see where the wind would take me after the baby was born. Besides which, I had a child to put through college one day and caring for a baby wasn't cheap. I pooled all of my share for the future and carried on living on my monthly wage.
“Wait, let me get that!” Tracy was helping me on moving day. We both had the day off work. I had my hair tied up in a scrunchie and wore ugly track suit bottoms and an over-sized t-shirt. I looked a mess. The removal guys were wonderful, too. They saw I was alone and ran around me like I was a queen. I didn't have to lift a finger. All I did was pick up a lamp and Tracy was on me like a flash.
“You shouldn't be lifting heavy objects in your condition,” she said. “Now sit, we're almost there.”
“I can help,” I complained. But the truth was I was glad of the rest. I was almost eight months pregnant by then and I could barely get around. My feet were swollen, my face was swollen, my back ached all day and I constantly needed to pee.
“Sit,” Tracy insisted, “and I'll make you tea.”
“Okay fine. I'm exhausted anyway.”
After the removal men were gone, Tracy and I sat with our feet up on storage boxes. I had a plate of cookies balanced on my bump and I ate them all one after the other, hardly stopping for breath.
“Peckish?” Tracy said.
“Oh, you know what this is like. I'm hungry all the time. Not to mention horny. If I didn't look so awful, I would have propositioned one of those guys. One of them was really cute. Did you see his butt?”
“Can't say I did, but then I'm not the one who's pregnant and horny.” Tracy shook her head at me. “So what about another guy, Libby? Ever thought about the future and having a new relationship one day?”
I pointed at my bump. “This is going to be the most important relationship of my life and it will be all I'll need to think about for a long time.”
“That kid will take up all of your time, there's no mistaking that. But you've got day care to think about because you'll be coming back to work right?”
“Oh yeah. What choice do I have? I'm going to need the money. Maternity pay doesn't last and that just leaves my share of the apartment sale. It'll be all I'll have.”
“My, my, Libby. Look at you. You got what you wanted after all those years. You got your baby.”
I smiled but said nothing.
“What is it?” she asked.
“This isn't how it was supposed to be, though. I thought Mark and I would stand the test of time. He did too.”
“Have you seen him? Does he know?”
I shook my head. “It's probably for the best anyway.”
Tracy put down her coffee cup. It was time for her to go. I would be in my new apartment, on my own for the first night. Just me and the bump. Something I had to get used to.
Chapter 7
I set about decorating the baby's room first before I did anything else in the apartment. After the last scan I had, the one where they could tell me the sex of the baby, I decided I'd wait for the surprise. Tracy was with me that day and looked disappointed not to have found out.
“You sure, Libby,” she'd said with puppy dog eyes. “It'll make decorating the room that much easier.”
“No.” I was adamant. “I really love those films when the woman has a baby and the doctor says, 'Congratulations, Mrs So and So, you have a baby whatever.”
“Would the father like to know?” The nurse doing my scan had looked at me and smiled. Tracy looked at me and I looked back at her. Then both of us looked back to the scan picture. It was a touchy subject.
“No, that's okay,” I'd said.
I had painted the walls but I wanted one wall papered. I needed curtains too. So I was off on a trip to a department store to make some purchases. I was leaving it pretty late but time wasn't waiting for me, it was marching on quicker than I could keep up.
I had a color scheme in mind of pastel yellow and white. Neutral colors. But there was so much choice in the store, I was baffled and confused and couldn't make a single decision about blankets and bed clothes. So I went over the section for cots and cribs and tried to do some pricing in my head.
My head was spinning in no time so I gave up before I spent every cent I had on all the wrong things. I bought a stuffed bunny rabbit just because I didn't want a wasted trip. I thought next time I'd come with Tracy and let her make decisions on my behalf. Even making decisions was getting hard to do. The baby was sucking up all my brain power.
I was making lists in my head again and imagining the room when it was finished. I was also wondering how much I could afford to spend. I stepped out of the baby department and walked head first into Mark.
“Sorry,” he said when we collided. “Oh, my God, Lib. It's you!” He looked at me, went to smile and then his eyes dropped to my enormous stomach. He looked at the bump in front of me for a full minute with his mouth wide open. “What the...?” He pointed at my stomach which was so big he almost poked it with his finger.
“I know, funny right?” I stuttered, patting away. “After all those years, who knew?” I was hot and embarrassed. The next question he was going to ask was sure to have been, “How?” But then I noticed a tall blond woman come up to him and hook his arm. I stared at her from her long, tan legs, her short skirt and her cute top that showed off her flat tummy and large breasts. Mark always did like them big.
“Oh,” he said to me. “Libby this is Francine. Francine this is...”
“Libby?” she exclaimed. “Ex-wife Libby?”
“One and the same.” I smiled. I wished the floor could have opened and swallowed me up.
“I thought you couldn't get pregnant,” she said in such a loud voice, people turned around and Mark went bright red. This woman was seriously annoying.
“Turns out the doctors were wrong,” I said. I did a bold sideways turn so they could see my bump in profile. I was glad to be wearing a really nice dress and not a baggy sweat top that made me look like one of those frumpy moms who lose all self-respect when they fall pregnant and have a child and stop caring about the way they look. “All it needed was time.” I said.
I looked at Mark and his face was framed in sadness. I wondered if he thought he should have stuck around. All my raving about it happening one day was true.
“That and the right chemistry,” he said. “Or should I say biology. It just wasn't happening for us,” he said. “But looks like your boyfriend and you make a good combination.”
My mouth opened. I was about to say, I don't have a boyfriend but I didn't how that would look or sound, especially in front of his big breasted girlfriend who was beaming a happy smile at me.
“Well congratulations,” she said. “Pregnancy looks good on you.”
“Thank you,” I said but all the time looking at Mark.
I knew I needed to make a move, I didn't want to have to go into any more details about how I got pregnant, when and with whom.
Mar
k looked like he wanted to talk but I was nervously clutching the cuddly toy I'd just bought and wanted to get away.
“Well, I'll leave you guys to get on with your shopping,” I said. “Mark it was nice to see you again.” I turned to her. “And...”
“Francine,” she said and leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek. “Lovely to meet you.” She hooked Mark's arm again. I was shocked she kissed me on the cheek.
“Mark, I wish you well. You two look very good together. Happy. I want to say have a great life but you never know we might bump into each other again.”
“I don't think so,” Mark said.
“No,” Francine interrupted. “We're leaving the country. We're moving to Europe. Paris actually. Mark's company wants him to head up the offices there. It's fantastic. I can paint, Mark can work hard and...”
She broke off. She realized she was being insensitive but she didn't know how much. Paris had been our place. Mine and Mark's. Our city of love. And we always said we'd go back but never did.
“Oh, well then,” I said not looking either in the eye. He was a wonderful guy. He had put up with a lot during those dark years of trying to conceive. I'd acted as if I was the only one in the world having a baby mattered to. I'd pushed Mark aside and became obsessed. I wished with all my heart that he was happy now. He certainly looked it although there was something behind those eyes I couldn't read.
Mark grabbed and hugged me. Into my ear he whispered, “Be happy. I'm happy for you. And you have a wonderful life, okay?”
I pulled away gently, nodded at Mark and walked away before I started crying.
I don't know if it was anything to do with that meet up with Mark and his girlfriend but the second I got back to my apartment I felt a twinge. That's how it started. A fluttering feeling tinged with a deep pain low in my abdomen made me think something was different. I'd heard about practice contractions but after having about four that evening, I was convinced this was the real thing.
I called Tracy – best friend and birthing partner.
“How many times has it happened and has your water broken?” she asked me sounding like an OBGYN.
“How will I know if my water is broken?”
“Come on, Libby, you went to the classes.”
“Okay, no, it hasn’t, not even a trickle. That's good right?”
“I'll come over.”
“I don't want you coming over if it's a false alarm,” I said. “Let me call you back when I know something is happening.” I was gripped with more pain and screamed down the phone.
“Something is happening,” she said. “Sit tight, I'm coming over.”
When Tracy arrived I was crouching down by the sofa and I hobbled to the door to let her in.
“This is too soon,” I said to her.
“Babies have a way of coming when they want. Do you have your bag ready?”
“It's been ready a week.”
“I've got a taxi waiting. I'll get your bag and let's go.”
I couldn't believe that just hours ago I'd been looking at the cribs and baby things and at some stage soon I would have my own little bundle of joy to lay in it. Then I remembered.
“Shit, Tracy, I can't have a baby yet. Where will he or she sleep?”
“In your arms. What are you talking about?”
“I bumped into Mark at the department store and I didn't get around to buying a crib. There were so many I was confused and...”
“Wait, wait, wait. Back up. You saw Mark?”
“Yes I saw him. He has a gorgeous girlfriend and they're moving to Paris, but it's fine.” The second the pain of a contraction came on. I moaned and doubled over. The taxi arrived at the hospital and I waddled out of it with Tracy holding my hand. At the entrance a nurse approached with a wheelchair.
“You look like you need this.”
“I do.” I screamed out in pain again and was whisked along the corridor to the delivery room. “This is it.” I smiled up at Tracy but she was still speechless about the whole Mark thing. I couldn't think about that, I had a baby to push out of me.
Several, long and painful hours later I lay on the bed, sweat on my brow and a beautiful baby girl in my arms.
“She is beautiful, Libby,” Tracy said. “Well done. You did it.”
“So beautiful. And so tiny. I'm calling her Giselle.”
“I love it!”
“After my favorite ballet. I wonder if she'll be a dancer,” I said. I couldn't take my eyes off her.
“I wonder who she'll look like,” said Tracy.
And there it was. The start of the questions surrounding Giselle. People would be asking me from here on in about who she takes after and that would link its way around to: Hey, who is the father anyway?
And truth of the matter was, one night of great sex and nine months later, I was still none the wiser. There was really no good way to answer that question when it was asked.
Soon it was time for Tracy to leave and me and Giselle to get our much-needed rest. The nurse took my bundle of joy and placed her with the others. Anxiety crawled into me with her being away from me but I knew she was in good hands.
I moved slowly and carefully to find the perfect position to lie in. Although the delivery had gone smoothly I was left in aches and pains that I knew would be intensified in the morning. Another thing that made it difficult for me to shove down the anxiety was not knowing anything about how to take care of a baby, but I was so sleepy I decided I’d just learn as I went.
I closed my eyes and allowed all the stress to be lifted and I fell into a deep sleep. The next day when it was time to go home, I held her to my chest not really wanting to put her in the car seat. I was completely convinced something would happen to her if I wasn’t holding her.
Luckily Tracy talked me down and helped me put her in the seat. She told me to sit in the back seat with her so I would be able to watch her closely and it would be alright.
The first two days home with my baby, I was terrified I wasn’t doing anything right. When she cried and I couldn’t figure out why, I cried too. I wouldn’t let anyone come over to help me though, because I was determined I could do it alone. Finally when I called Tracy to tell her that I couldn’t sit up long enough to stick my boob in my child’s mouth from exhaustion she came over.
Giselle was screaming and my head hurt so bad I couldn’t see straight. Tracy was a doll. She took her from me and told me to sleep. I had milk pumped out in the refrigerator because I was convinced something would happen where I wouldn’t be able to feed her.
I was right, but it was from trying to do everything myself for two days instead of getting help. I slept so hard knowing Tracy was watching her. I hadn’t given my body time to relax or heal because I’d been so wound up.
I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep when I finally woke up. Tracy was sitting in the rocking chair across from my bed with her and rose to give her to me when I propped myself up on some pillows.
“I must be the most paranoid mother ever,” I told her as I looked into my babies’ huge sweet eyes.
“Not really, I was convinced the twins hated each other and cried for days. My husband couldn’t understand it because when he looked at them all he saw was love. They slept together and as they got more aware, responded to each other, but somehow I had it in my mind they didn’t like each other at all and I went with it.”
“You are serious?”
“Yes, you’re going to worry and you’re going to have irrational thoughts and fears, but welcome to being a mom.”
Somehow she made me feel better and I started to relax. Over the weeks, I realized when I needed help and asked for it. I wasn’t convinced I could do the single mom thing, but so far we were making it. After the first two months it was time for her to have a sitter and for me to go back to work. I had a very hard time leaving her to go to work, but I needed money to afford diapers and food for her. If I didn’t go back to work she wouldn’t have those things.
I hired a babysitter and started looking into preschools so I could get ahead of that. She would not be going anywhere I hadn’t completely checked out.
When she was six months old, I got a phone call from her babysitter. Giselle had fallen and hit her head. They were okay but on their way to the emergency room because she was going to need stitches. My heart fell into my stomach, I wasn’t even making sense as I told my boss what was going on and that I had to leave. I rushed to the ER and felt guilty I hadn’t been there for her when she fell and got hurt. I didn’t know how bad it was, if she’d been knocked out, or what had happened. I knew she was trying to pull herself up and she probably pulled up on the couch and then fell into the coffee table.
I’d been meaning to put bumpers on the table so she wouldn’t get hurt. I flew into the room like a crazy woman asking to see my child. They were already done with her and she was sitting there happily sucking on her thumb with her head glued together.
It wasn’t bad. My heart rate was high and I thought I might pass out, but she was fine. I realized her needs and issues would always come over mine no matter what. When she hurt I hurt, when she cried I cried, even if it was on the inside.
I felt guilty leaving her alone with the sitter for the rest of the week, but I still did it. We needed money and I was the only one in the house that could make it.
By the time Giselle hit her first birthday I’d chilled out. I’d talked to the moms at the park whose children were just one big bruise and they helped me realize she was going to keep getting hurt and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Two days after she turned one she fell and broke her arm. I calmly got her to the hospital and didn’t even freak out when she started screaming as they got her ready for the cast.
I stayed calm until I put her to bed and then I went to take a shower and bawled my eyes out. Being a mother was difficult and after a year I felt like I was better at it, but I certainly didn’t know everything.
I was pretty confident that I could do the single mother thing, while she couldn’t talk and wasn’t very mobile, I knew my little girl was growing fast and everything would keep changing every day. I wasn’t ready.