As he held me, I sent a silent prayer to heaven, asking for strength.
This was one promise I never wanted to break.
“SO FAR, SO good,” Dr. Garcia said brightly. “I want to see you back here in two weeks, but it looks to me like you’ve got a fighter. Make sure you keep drinking lots of water, take your prenatal vitamins, keep up on your medications, and call if you have any questions or if there are any changes. Oh, and the nurse will show you the way to your ultrasound appointment.”
“Thank you,” Lailah said.
I moved to shake her hand. This was our third appointment in a month. Most pregnant women didn’t even see the doctor until they reached six weeks, but since Lailah was considered high risk with a high probability of miscarriage, we got the frequent-flyer card and came much more frequently. We’d turned down genetic testing for now, agreeing that the idea of not knowing was less stress and Lailah was convinced it wouldn’t change anything.
At this point, I wasn’t so sure.
So far, everything was running smoothly, but we still had the ultrasound, and until then, I didn’t think I would be able to take a single breath.
“Jude, can you hand me my shoes?” Lailah asked as she threw on her sweater and grabbed her purse.
I helped her into her flats and took her hand as she stepped off the exam table. The nurse was waiting for us, and we followed her down the hall to another wing of the medical office.
The first time we’d arrived at this location, I’d immediately voiced my concern that it wasn’t in the hospital. Lailah had laughed, pointing out that it was right next door.
“Yes, but it’s not part of the hospital. What if something goes wrong, and you need to be admitted? How long will that take?” I’d questioned.
“Marcus said she’s one of the best doctors in obstetrics, as far as he’s concerned. I’m in perfectly good hands.”
I’d grumbled but relented, agreeing that there was only one doctor in the family and it wasn’t me.
We’d decided to stay in California indefinitely.
Right now, we needed calm and serenity. We couldn’t get that in New York.
I’d thought Roman’s head might explode when I called him and explained I was taking a year off, but he had been surprisingly Zen about the entire thing.
I’d offered to be available for teleconferences and emergencies, but he’d just said, “We got it,” and that was it.
I hoped I would have a company to return to next year.
I hoped I would have a lot of things to return to in a year. Lailah and I had agreed to keep the dark thoughts to a minimum, believing that there was no point in mulling over what might be, and instead, we were focusing on the present we still had. But there were times I struggled.
Every time I saw her, I would stare just a bit longer, capturing the way her eyes looked in the warm California sun.
Every time I touched her, I’d linger, memorizing the way her body reacted to mine.
A thousand lifetimes would never be enough. This was true. For now, I’d gladly settle for one.
The nurse finished our quick tour of the office before dropping us off at the ultrasound waiting room. A woman and her husband sat across from us. Her stomach was swelling with their child, and he tenderly rubbed it and spoke in hushed tones. As they were called back by a technician, Lailah looked at me, a nervous halo clouding her normally bright blue eyes.
A quick wink and a nudge to her shoulder earned me a small smile before she tenderly rested her head against me.
“Will you do that?” she asked wistfully.
“What?”
“Rub my belly?”
“Only if you let me rub pudding all over it and lick it off,” I said, completely deadpanned.
Her head jerked up to look at me as she tried not to crack a grin. “You’re crazy.”
“You’d let me do it though, wouldn’t you?”
Her name was called before she could answer, but I saw her roll her eyes, and I heard the beautiful sound of her laughter as we made our way down the hallway.
Mission accomplished.
Google and I had become the best of friends over the last month, and I’d learned my fair share about pregnancy, including the importance of stress reduction to the mother.
It was a simple concept—happy mother equaled happy baby. In my world, that meant everything.
We were led to a small room filled with equipment I’d only seen in movies. Lailah was told to strip down, and she was handed a robe. We were given a few minutes of privacy while she shimmied out of her dress and sweater and quickly put on the hospital gown.
“I look hot, huh?” She twirled around once before fastening the ties at the top.
“You forget, I fell in love with you in a hospital.”
“Yes.” She smiled, taking a seat on the exam table. “But even then, I didn’t wear awful hospital robes.”
Remembering her affinity for yoga pants even then, I grinned. “No, but it wouldn’t have mattered even if you did. It was hopeless. You had me from that very first moment.”