by Toshia Slade
“Now, are you going to tell me whose baby it is and why I didn’t know that you were seeing anyone?”
I knew this was coming, and if I’m honest with myself, I can’t believe my mom didn’t flip her lid in the office. All I got was a gasp and huge you’re-kidding eyes. It’s going to come out sooner or later, and I know Mom won’t let it go until I talk to her.
“It’s Josh’s.” I lean my head against the seat, close my eyes tight, and hold my breath, waiting for her reaction.
“I didn’t know y’all were datin’. Why didn’t you say so? And why the heck have you been staying at the house so much? You don’t need to worry about me, Tiffany. Your Momma will be all right.”
“We’re not datin’, Momma. We sorta were, but I wasn’t ready for that.”
“What?” She shrieks, and I flinch. “That boy’s had eyes for you since y’all were just teens runnin’ around tormentin’ each other. Why wouldn’t you want to be with him? He’s grown into a nice young man.”
“I’m still young, Momma. I wanna live my life, and if I did something stupid and ruined it all, I couldn’t take it back. I would never forgive myself for hurting him.”
“What do you think your pushin’ him away is doing? What’s he say about all of this?”
I knew nobody would understand. Doesn’t this make me the grown-up? Thinking about others and trying to be smart and not make mistakes?
“He’s ready for full commitment and wants to give it a go.” No way am I telling her I was ready to give in when Dad up and pulled his shit, flipping our world on its axis. She’d really have a fit then.
“I didn’t raise you to be stupid. That boy loves you and will take care of you.”
Anger punches me in the chest, and my face heats. I ball my fists in my lap, and I lash out.
“Just like Dad did you?” I regret my words as soon as they’re out and would give anything to take them back. Pain and regret explode inside. “I’m sorry, Momma.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a lot of things about your dad that you don’t know. It may hurt for a while, but I’ll get over it and move on with my life. And just so you know, it’s not fair to Josh for you to compare him to your daddy.”
I know she’s referring to what we talked about at Christmas and how Dad was unfaithful through their whole marriage. She always turned a blind eye or would get mad and not talk to him for a couple of days. He would always buy her flowers or do stuff that she’d been on him to do, all in the name of buttering her up. Is there more that she’s not telling me? I’m not sure I could handle any more truths about who my dad really is. I already feel bad enough when it comes to him. I know I can’t handle more.
“I don’t want to take that chance. When I find out how far along I am and wrap my own head around all this, I’ll tell Josh about the baby. We can come up with some kind of plan to raise him or her together, some kind of co-parenting, but I’m not willing to put my heart on the line.”
“So you’re just going to live your whole life alone?” she asks, incredulous.
“I’ll have the baby.” I shrug, but inside I feel as though hands are gripping me everywhere and squeezing with all their might. Do I really want to live my life single and lonely? No. But it sure beats the hell out of falling in love with someone only for them to rip everything away from me.
“I’m gonna kill your daddy for doing this to you.” Her small hands grip the steering wheel tighter, her knuckles turning white.
I turn my head and look out the window, the bare trees covering the countryside flashing by, and silent tears stream down my face. Yeah, most days I want to kill him, too. I no longer have a family. He ripped it to shreds then tossed it away like last week’s garbage. My chest tightens as my throat burns, and it’s hard to take a breath.
I’ll have my own little family. The baby and me. At least I know they’ll always love me and won’t up and leave, at least not until they get older and get married. Some of the pain subsides, and I can breathe a little easier. One thing is for certain—I’ll love this tiny baby more than anything in this world.
“Tiffany, please do me a favor. Think long and hard about this. I don’t want to see you hurt or go through life alone, baby. I know deep in my heart that that boy loves you and worships the ground you walk on. If nothing else, make him prove it to you. You don’t have to jump into anything fast. You’re a lot stronger than I was. I let your dad walk all over me, and I just laid there and took it. You’re not that kind of woman. So please don’t shut yourself off from love.”
“I can’t promise you that right now, but I can promise you that I’ll think about it. I do think you’re right about Josh. He wouldn’t ever do what Dad did because he’s not someone that would walk off, but who’s to say that he won’t fall out of love with me or get sick of my attitude? He’s told me more than once I drive him crazy. I just couldn’t bear it, Momma, and I wouldn’t want to put our baby through that either. I have a lot I need to think about and do over the next couple of days. One step at a time. So please be patient with me, and let me figure this out.”
“All right, baby. Now let’s get you home and get some medicine in you so you can feed my grandbaby.” She beams over at me, and for the first time, I feel joy that there’s a tiny human growing inside me.
I grin back. This is what I’m talking about. No matter what, she’s always behind me and never makes me feel like a disappointment. She may not agree with the choices I make, but she gives me her opinions and thoughts then lets me do my own thing.
“All right, Grams.” I laugh and wipe the tears away, feeling a little bit lighter and shoving everything to the back of my mind. I need a mental break, and nothing’s better than a little laughter with my momma.
“Uh-uh. I’m going to be called Nan-Nan. I’m too young to be grams or grandma. Gotta be something fun and hip.” She sways her shoulders from side to side and tries to sound gangster.
I burst out laughing. Dear Lord, this poor baby.
Seventeen
*Tiffany*
Today’s the big day, and my stomach has been in knots. I’m nervous and excited to find out how far along I am. As sick as I have been, I’m also afraid that the baby isn’t going to be okay. I need to hear from the doctor that everything is fine and is going to be all right.
Mom wanted to come with me today to be my moral support, but I politely declined. I need to do this on my own. Maybe I should have let her. I can’t help feeling as though everyone’s eyes are on me, and they’re all thinking the same thing. Stupid girl, so young, went and got herself knocked up, and now the dad wants nothing to do with her or the baby.
Mom’s not going to always be there, though, and I have to get used to doing this alone. There’s always a chance Josh will laugh in my face and tell me there’s no way it’s his kid, and he’ll walk off, having nothing to do with the baby. I don’t see him doing that, but I know I’ve hurt him, and I still can’t believe I’m pregnant or understand how, so why would he?
My knee bounces, and I chew my nails, flipping through the parenting magazine on my lap. The words blur together and don’t make sense. I’m too distracted to read or comprehend anything. I look at the pictures and try to imagine what our child will look like. Will he or she have my blue eyes and blond hair, or will they have Josh’s shockingly beautiful green eyes and dark hair, or maybe even a mixture of the two?
“Tiffany Johnson.”
I jump at the sound of my name, scurry to put the magazine back on the small table beside me, and stand. Take a deep breath and calm down. You’ve got this.
“That’s me,” I answer. I attempt to close the magazine and get it to stay in place, but my hands are shaking too much to function well.
The middle-aged nurse stands patiently waiting and sends me a warm, reassuring smile. I take a deep breath and smile back.
She motions me through the door, closing it behind her, then leads me to a small room off to the right.
“My name’s Gre
ta, and I’m going to check your weight and blood pressure, then I’ll ask you some questions and collect a urine sample.”
While she checks my weight and writes it down, I’m still fidgety, and on top of my stomach churning, I feel as though I’m going to barf any second. What if I’ve done something wrong and I’ve already hurt the baby? I have no clue what I’m doing, and I do well to take care of myself. How the hell am I supposed to care for my baby?
I’m so lost in my own head that I don’t realize she moved me over to a chair beside a desk.
“When was your last menstrual cycle?” she asks as she secures the blood pressure cuff to my arm.
“I’m not sure. I think the beginning of January, but I’ve had so much going on in my personal life that I couldn’t tell you what happened last week. Not to mention, the pregnancy seems to have made me a jumbled mess. Add the emotions, and sometimes I feel as though I don’t know what’s up and what’s down. I’m a horrible mom already.” I start crying. “I don’t know what I’m doing, and I saw it in everyone’s eyes out in the waiting room. They pity me and think I’m a stupid girl, and I am. I haven’t even told the dad I’m pregnant. We’re not together, and now we can’t be.”
“Oh, sweetheart, no one knows what they’re doing the first time, and more than half the women that come in don’t know when their last cycle was. So, you’re not a horrible mom, just a new mom. You’ll do just fine, you’ll see. As far as the young man, you’ll have to tell him because he deserves to know, but you have time to figure that out. Don’t be so hard on yourself, and remember, everything happens for a reason.” She pats my hand and gives me a tissue. “Now dry it up and believe in yourself, and you forget what everyone else thinks. You focus on you and that baby.”
Nodding, I wipe my eyes and blow my nose, feeling a bit better that I got that out but embarrassed that I just spilled my guts to a complete stranger.
“Okay, sorry I lost it there for a minute. It’s these crazy hormones. Normally, I’m not a crier or so emotional, but these days, I’m a snotty, blubbering mess.”
“It’s all right. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about any of it. I’ve had three kids of my own, so I know all too well what having a baby can do to our bodies. Now, I see here that you went to your family physician two weeks ago for constant nausea and vomiting. Dr. Collins wants to do an ultrasound today to determine how far along you are and make sure everything is okay and that you’re staying hydrated.”
I squeeze the tissues, and worry sits as heavy as lead in the pit of my stomach.
“Could my being so sick have hurt the baby?” It’s a relief yet terrifying to voice one of my biggest concerns. I went a week without eating much of anything, and I know it’s important for a baby to have lots of nutrients to develop correctly.
“No, not really. The only thing you need to worry about is staying hydrated, so make sure to drink plenty of water.” She makes a few more notes in my chart and removes the cuff from my arm. “Come on. Let’s get that urine sample, then I’ll get you to the ultrasound room.”
She gives me instructions on how to get a good sample then shows me the small metal cabinet to place the cup in when I’m done, leaving me to do my business.
Once I’ve finished the not-easy task of filling the tiny cup, Greta moves me to the ultrasound room. There’s a small exam table and a few chairs against the wall beside it. On a rolling cart is a weird-looking computer with all kinds of strange buttons and what looks like a ball in the middle.
“Here’s a small drape. I need you to undress from the waist down, and wait on the table. The doctor will be in with you shortly. Remember to breathe, and you’ll be just fine.” She rubs my back as she hands me the pale blue paper drape.
“Okay. Thank you, Greta.” I give her a small, wobbly, nervous smile.
They should make these tables more comfortable, and geez, what’s up with the room being so cold? The thin sheet of paper does nothing to ward off the chill of the plastic underneath. I’m shivering, and no matter which way I move, the small drape won’t cover me, let alone provide warmth. My nerves and lack of comfort have me bouncing and shifting, and the paper crinkles and rips under my behind.
A tap on the door makes me sit up straighter and grip the blue paper in my fists.
“Co—” I clear my throat to try to rid it of the shake. “Come in.”
In walks a tall and slim dark-haired woman. She’s really pretty and has a friendly smile on her face. Behind her is another woman who has a head of curly red hair and is wearing thick black-rimmed glasses.
“Hi, Tiffany. I’m Dr. Collins, and this is Susan, our ultrasound technician. She’ll be the one to do your ultrasounds, but I wanted to be in here today since you’ve been so sick. Are you ready to see this baby?” She grins over at me as she adjusts something on the machine.
“I’m ready. I just want to know that the baby is okay. I had no clue I was pregnant, and then after not eating much for a week, I’m kind of scared.” I watch as she pulls a huge wand-looking thing off the side of the cart and slides a huge condom over it. I swallow hard. Is that what I think it’s for? No way are they going to fit that thing in there without hurting me and the baby. Why didn’t I bring Mom with me today? I bite the inside of my lip until I taste blood, not wanting to scream in fear. “Are you using that to do the ultrasound?” I can’t help the high pitch to my voice. The sight of this thing alone has me wanting to back up on this table as far as I can.
“Yes, but don’t worry. It’s not going to hurt you. You may feel a bit of discomfort, if that, and this will be the only time we have to use this. After today, we can see with this one.” She picks up a much smaller attachment. “It goes right over your stomach.”
“Okay.” I know she’s the doctor, and I’m supposed to trust her, but I highly doubt that it’s not going to hurt. I may be knocked up at twenty-one and single, but I ain’t no ho. That’s going to hurt.
“Lie back on the table, place your feet in the stirrups, and scoot your bottom all the way to the edge, just like you would for an exam.”
I grip the sides of the table and slide down until my ass is hanging off, placing my sock-covered feet in the cold, hard metal stirrups. Once positioned, I don’t release my hold on the table, gripping it so tight my hands shake. I close my eyes and tell myself to take deep breaths, vowing never again to do this alone. I’ve never been so scared of a doctor in my life.
“Relax your legs for me.” Dr. Collins taps the inside of my thigh as she speaks, causing me to jump and yelp. “Deep breaths and relax, Tiffany. I promise I’m not going to hurt you, and trust me, as soon as you hear that baby, you’ll forget everything else.”
Easier said than done. You have to do this for the baby, I repeat over and over while commanding my body to relax.
Sucking in a deep breath, I let my legs fall open and relax my body, squeezing my eyes tight. I pray for this to be over fast. Just let me know the baby is okay and —
Whap. Whap. Whap.
The noise echoes in the room and sounds like a galloping horse. I hold my breath, and my heart starts to pick up, matching the pace.
I sit up on my elbows and look down at the doctor and over at the computer. The screen is fuzzy, like the picture on an old TV trying to come into focus. Small waves of motion pull my attention to the center. There, blurred in the shades of gray, is the tiny bean—a tiny bean with limbs. "Is that the baby?" I lean forward. Closer, trying to get a better look through the tears that cloud my vision.
“It is, and it’s a good strong heartbeat. See here”—she points to the screen and a small white flashing light—“that’s the baby’s heart. Now let me get some measurements, and we’ll figure out how far along you are.”
Pride and love soar through me, and a single tear leaks from the corner of my eye. That’s my baby. I have a tiny human inside of me, and part of it’s me.
Oh God, Josh.
Guilt plagues me. He should be here, be a part of this an
d get the chance to hear his baby for the first time. Will he ever forgive me for making him miss this? Or will he even care?
“Is it okay if I record this? I still haven’t told the dad yet, and when I do, I would like for him to be able to experience this, too.”
“Sure, that’s no problem at all.” She clicks away at the keyboard.
“Could you please grab it off my jeans there?” I point to the phone lying on the chair atop my clothes, feeling guilty about being so much trouble. “I’m so sorry. I know I’m asking a lot, but I don’t want to live with the guilt of him missing this because I was too afraid to tell him.”
I’m still not sure when I’ll get the nerve to tell him, but I know it needs to be soon.
“Oh, don’t you worry about it. Here you go.” Susan places my phone in my hand and smiles with warmth and respect. “It’s nice of you to think of him and want to do it.”
I don’t reply because I don’t know what to say. I don’t feel very thoughtful since I have yet to even tell him or give him the choice to be here. I hit Record and capture the sound and screen on video for a minute. I know it won’t be as good as being here, but at least it’s something.
“All right, Tiffany. You’re right at ten weeks pregnant, and everything looks great.”
Ten weeks? Ten weeks puts me… Holy shit! I got pregnant in November. November was the first time we had sex. No freaking way this happened the first time.
Oh, God! I drank when we went to Tennessee. Will that hurt the baby?
“I drank in the middle of December. Will that hurt the baby?” I chew on my lip and sit up when Susan finishes, removing the probe.
“The baby should be fine. It’s excessive drinking that I would be worried about. No drinking now that you know, but it’s not something I’m concerned about.” She stands and removes her gloves. “Go on and get dressed, and open the door when you’re done. We’ll move you to an exam room so we can talk and discuss any further questions you may have, and I’ll get you some pamphlets that will help ease your mind.”