Dancing Naked
Page 16
Kia met Grace’s eyes. “You know,” she said after a moment, “you would have been an awesome grandma.”
“You think so, Kia?” Grace asked, her eyes shining.
“I know so, Grace.”
week 35/40
~ baby could live on the outside
~ eyes are opening and shutting
~ baby is putting on weight
~ rapid brain growth
July 23
The people at the home are so close to the end of their lives.
My baby hasn’t even drawn its first breath.
Each of those old people was once someone’s baby,
Wrapped in their parents’ arms, loved, adored.
Wondering what life would bring them.
They were each someone’s unborn baby, too
Eagerly awaited
Or?
Each of their lives were once clean slates
With endless possibilities
And now?
They sit, waiting.
Waiting for what?
Another baby will soon be born.
First breaths, last breaths
The seamlessness of life
From: Justin
To: Kia
Date: July 25
Subject: worried
hi ki,
when you didn’t show up at the home today, everyone got worried. beatrice thought for sure your baby had come, and flo just kept watching the door, the book you’ve been reading to her propped open in her lap. grace was the worst. she kept twisting and twisting the bottom of her sweater until i thought for sure she’d make a rag out of it.
J
From: Kia
To: Justin
Date: July 25
Subject: Re: worried
sorry justin. i meant to tell you last night at prenatal that i had a doctor’s appointment today. i have them weekly now because my blood pressure is a bit high and she just wants to keep an eye on it. i meant to come by the home after my appointment, but i felt so tired and it was so hot. i went home and slept for a couple of hours.
you were great at prenatal. you’re going to be better than any of those ‘real’ dads on the big day.
K
From: Justin
To: Kia
Date: July 25
Subject: phew
glad you’re ok. will we c u tomorrow?
J
From: Kia
To: Justin
Date: July 25
Subject: Re: phew
trust me. i’ll b there!
k
week 36/40
~ baby gets hiccups
~ lungs are mature
~ gums are becoming rigid
~ fat is dimpling on elbows and knees
July 28
I’m scared. It’s going to hurt so much! The birth, the adoption, everything!
I don’t want to be me.
From: Kia
To: Justin
Date: Aug. 4
Subject: venting
hi justin, don’t read any further if you’re expecting a cheerful letter. i need to vent. i’m sorry it’s always u i dump on.
i just got back from joanna and brett’s. they have an awesome home and u should see the nursery they’ve put together. it looks like something out of a magazine. i kept imagining my little baby lying in the cradle they have, with the winnie-the-pooh mobile hanging over it and all the little stuffed animals sitting in the end. i could smell the ivory snow soap that joanna used to wash everything. she’s even got the little sleeper laid out that she’s bringing her home in. it’s yellow. yellow is good for a girl or a boy, she said. i guess she doesn’t believe it’s going to be a girl.
i made the mistake of sitting in the rocking chair and pretending that it would be me rocking my baby to sleep. i actually felt sick i was so jealous, and it’s confusing, because i really like them. but i hate them too! that should be my nursery! this is my baby but they’ve gone ahead and got everything ready, like it was already theirs.
and then i heard them arguing in the kitchen! i couldn’t believe it. they obviously didn’t know i could hear them — they thought i was still in the nursery. maybe they’re not so perfect after all. maybe i shouldn’t trust them with my baby!!!
o justin. i know how stupid i sound. my split personality is at it again. half of me knows how lucky i am to have found them, the other half is still telling me not to let her go. there. i’m done. thanks for listening. what would I do without you?
k.
From: Justin
To: Kia
Date: Aug. 4
Subject: Re: venting
your feelings are ok, ki, completely normal and it’s a good thing that you’re venting. i’m always here 2 listen. Speaking of venting, have you been practicing your breathing? i want us to b the best. don’t let me down!
J.
From: Kia
To: Justin
Date: Aug. 4
Subject: breathing
i’ll be the best breather there. trust me.
k
Kia closed Charlotte’s Web and sighed. She glanced at the faces of the seniors gathered around her. She understood now why Justin had chosen this particular book. She didn’t miss the parallel between Charlotte, the spider, entrusting her sac of eggs to Wilbur, the pig, with her own situation, but she thought the story of Charlotte getting old and dying might be depressing for some of these seniors. And why a children’s book?
“That was beautiful, Kia,” Flo said, wiping her eyes. “It is quite a different story when you hear it in old age.”
“Uh-huh,” agreed Grace. “E.B. White has such a magical way with words. He describes the passage of time so beautifully.”
“I know what you mean,” Beatrice said. “Can you find that paragraph again, Kia, the one about how you feel when you’re waiting for something to happen?”
Kia flipped through the last couple of pages until she spotted it. She read, “For Wilbur, nothing in life was so important as this small round object—nothing else mattered. Patiently he awaited the end of winter and the coming of the little spiders. Life is always a rich and steady time when you are waiting for something to happen or to hatch.”
Kia looked up and met Grace’s eyes. Grace smiled and nodded. Kia had to look away as a wave of guilt washed over her. Joanna was like Wilbur, waiting for the baby to be born, but she, Kia, kept pushing her away.
“And now read the last paragraph again, Kia,” Grace said quietly.
“Wilbur never forgot Charlotte,” Kia read. “Although he loved her children and grandchildren dearly, none of the new spiders ever quite took her place in his heart. She was in a class by herself. It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer. Charlotte was both.” Kia closed the book.
“True friends are rare,” Justin commented as he joined the small group.
Kia nodded. “That’s for sure.”
“Although I think there is a Charlotte or two in everyone’s life,” he added.
Kia nodded, knowing full well that no one would ever take Justin’s place in her heart. He was definitely in a class by himself.
Kia lay on her side on the thin mat. Justin knelt beside her. Around the room panting could be heard from the pregnant women as they practiced the breathing techniques that would get them through labor.
“Why do you think no one visits our seniors, Justin? It’s so pathetic.”
“Our seniors?” Justin smiled down at her.
“Yeah. Our seniors. What makes them all yours?”
He laughed. “Nothing. It’s great that you’ve adopted them.” He stopped abruptly, realizing, from Kia’s sharp glance, that i
t was a poor choice of words, but then continued, “You know what I mean, and most of them do get occasional visitors. It doesn’t seem like much, I know, but everyone leads busy lives. I think most families do their best. And I don’t think they’d want you feeling sorry for them. Just enjoy their company.”
Kia nodded. “I’ve enjoyed spending more time there.” She smiled, thinking of Grace. “I think I’m getting more out of it than the seniors. Now I’d do it even if I wasn’t earning community service points.”
“Funny how that happens,” Justin replied. “Now lie down and get back to work.”
Kia sat up instead. She reached out and gently punched his arm. “How’d you get so smart anyhow?”
He punched her back. “Just born that way, I guess,” he said. “You got the looks, I got the brains. Don’t we make a great team?”
Kia laughed, looking down at herself. “Oh yeah. I’m, like, real gorgeous. And are you saying I don’t have a brain?”
Justin shook his head, smiling. “No. I saw your last report card, remember? I wish I’d done half so well in school.”
“It’s weird, isn’t it? I know people who get great marks, but I wouldn’t call them smart. Know what I mean?”
“I know exactly.”
Kia rubbed her stomach. “I hope my little girl gets the kind of smarts you have.”
“And your looks,” Justin said. “Although,” he added with a laugh, “she won’t be doing half bad if she looks like her dad.”
“Don’t remind me of Derek,” Kia said, easing herself back onto her mat as she spotted the teacher approaching them. “I hope she’s nothing like him.”
“She is half him, Ki,” Justin reminded her quietly, as he leaned over her. “And have you talked to him about signing the adoption papers yet? Time’s running out.”
“No,” she said with a sigh. “But I will. When I get a chance.”
But Kia’s chance never came.
Dr. Miyata frowned when she read the dial on the blood-pressure monitor during Kia’s weekly appointment.
“What’s the matter?”
“Your blood pressure isn’t good. You’ve got a condition known as pre-eclampsia.” The doctor squeezed one of Kia’s ankles. The indentations took a moment too long to return to normal. “Your swollen ankles are another symptom of it.”
“Pre-eclampsia? What does that mean?”
“It’s a complication that can occur in pregnancy and can lead to convulsions and even coma. It is often characterized by high blood pressure. Usually we can treat it with just rest.” The doctor stepped away from the examining table and sat on the stool. She stared at Kia’s file for a moment. “I think we need to get you a specialist. An obstetrician.”
“Does that mean you won’t be delivering my baby?”
“No, I’ll be there. I’ll assist. But your health, not the baby, is my concern right now. I’m going to admit you into the hospital immediately, and the specialist can see you there.”
“The hospital? I’ve got to go to the hospital already?”
“It’s just a precaution, Kia. Bed rest might be all it takes to keep your blood pressure at a safe level. But at the rate it’s rising, I think it needs constant monitoring.”
“Oh.” Kia felt numb. It had never occurred to her that her pregnancy wouldn’t progress exactly as they described it in prenatal classes. Going to the hospital before labor started was not the proper order.
“There’s something I’d like to do first.”
“I’ll give you three hours,” the doctor said. “And then I’ll expect you to be at the hospital. I’ll try to get an obstetrician to see you there this afternoon.”
Kia’s mind was whirling as she left the examining room. It would take her a good hour just to get home on the bus. She thought of calling Justin—he’d come for sure—but she didn’t want to take him away from the seniors. She paged her mom at her university class instead.
As Kia stared out the window of the clinic she saw Mrs. Hazelwood squeal into the Superstore parking lot. She glanced at her watch. It had only taken her half an hour from classroom to clinic, an amazing feat considering the distance and usual traffic congestion. Her mom pulled the car up to the front of the clinic, a no-parking zone, wheels straddling the sidewalk. She left the engine running as she hopped out and ran around to open the passenger door for Kia.
“I’m just going to run in and talk to the doctor myself,” she said as Kia came out of the clinic and climbed into the car. “I want to find out exactly what’s going on.”
“Never mind, Mom. The doctor said it’s not that serious. They just want to monitor me.” Kia hated the trace of irritation she heard in her own voice, but she couldn’t help it. Why was it that she had to calm her mom down, instead of the other way around? “Let’s go. We can talk in the car.”
Mrs. Hazelwood hesitated, studied Kia’s determined face and reluctantly slid back into the driver’s seat.
“Can you stop at the seniors’ home, Mom? I want to tell everyone what’s happening.”
“I think we should go straight to the hospital, Ki. Justin can pass messages on for you.”
“No,” she said, crossing her arms. “I want to see them myself.”
Her mom sighed, but took the turn-off that led to the Willows Intermediate Care Home. “You’ve got exactly five minutes,” she said, parking the car in a handicapped stall. She was about to leap out to assist her daughter, but Kia grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“I can do it myself.” With as much dignity as she could muster, Kia struggled out of the car. She saw her mom reach for the cell phone and snapped. “Who are you calling?”
“I’m just going to have your dad meet us at the hospital. I’ll call the Reverend and Sadie too.”
“Don’t even think of it, Mom,” Kia said, slamming the door and leaning in the open window. “I’m not having the baby yet. And I’m not dying, either. I told you—my blood pressure is being monitored, that’s all. Relax. Don’t call anyone.” But when she glanced over her shoulder as she pulled open the door to the seniors’ home, she could see her mom already talking to someone on the phone. Her reaction was making Kia wonder if her mom knew something about pre-eclampsia that she didn’t. A chill ran down her spine and she shuddered, even in the August heat.
Kia made her way, stomach first, across the sunroom toward the group of seniors. Justin was sitting with them.
“You’re here early,” he said, glancing at his watch. “Everything go okay at the doctor’s?”
“That’s why I’m here,” she said. She looked around at the old faces she’d come to care so much about. “My blood pressure is getting a little too high and I have to go into the hospital to have it monitored. I may be in there until after the baby is born, so I wanted to come in to say goodbye, for now.”
They all stared at her quietly for a moment. Kia wondered if it was concern that she saw flicker across a few of the faces. Flo was the first to find her voice. “All the best, Kia,” she said in her wobbly voice. “We’ll be thinking of you. I hope she’s a healthy little girl.”
“Yes,” said Bert, looking around at the group. “We’ll all miss you, so you get back here pronto, okay? We’ll have some kind of party, right Justin?”
“You know me, a regular party animal,” Justin agreed, winking at Bert.
Kia went around to each member of the group, hugging her friends and accepting their warm words of encouragement. When she got to Grace she straightened the blanket that lay across her knees and ran her fingers down one wrinkled cheek. Grace opened her mouth to speak, but a wracking cough overcame her. Kia waited patiently beside the wheelchair. She pulled a tissue out of the package that the old woman kept tucked beside her and wiped the drool from the side of her wizened mouth.
“You go, girl,” Grace said quietly when she was able to talk again.
“I will,” Kia said, smiling at her choice of words. Grace reached out and stroked Kia’s huge belly. “You’re a lovely you
ng lady. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“I know.” Tears pricked at the back of Kia’s eyes. With a quick wave, she turned and walked back the way she’d come, with Justin at her side.
“Is Grace okay?” she asked him.
“I don’t know.” He frowned. “We’ve got a doctor coming to look at her today. I don’t like the sound of that cough.”
“You let me know what’s going on.”
“I will. And how about you? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, but my mom’s getting to me. She’s all freaked out.”
“You’re her little girl. She loves you. Moms all freak when they’re worried about their babies.”
Kia rolled her eyes and stepped aside as Justin opened the door for her. He greeted her mom, and helped Kia into the car. “I’ll come by the hospital tonight,” he said into the open car window. “Don’t go having the baby without me. I’m your labor coach, remember?”
“Trust me. I’m not doing it without you,” she said. “When the time comes, I’ll keep my legs tightly crossed until you get there.”
week 38/40
~ wrinkles are disappearing from the baby’s face
~ average-sized baby will weigh about six pounds
and be fourteen inches long
Aug. 14
She called me courageous and generous. What a joke. I’m scared and greedy. I don’t want to share my baby. I want her all to myself.
“Anywhere between thirty-eight and forty-two weeks is considered full term,” the doctor explained, “and you’re at thirty-eight weeks. The baby is large and seems healthy. It’s your health that’s compromised now.”
Kia nodded. She’d been in the hospital for three days, but things had only gotten worse. Her ankles were so swollen that her legs reminded her of a hippo’s, and her blood pressure had increased steadily.