Page 28 of That Baby (That Boy 3)
He laughs, leans his head on my shoulder, and smiles. "You always know how to make me laugh."
"That's because my answer has been the same ever since you started asking me that question ten years ago. Or whenever it was that you went through puberty. Danny, you and Lori have only been together for a couple years. She's not going to know all the stuff I know about. She has been acting differently lately, though. Her not remembering my birthday just glares at me. It's not that big of a deal. We forget sometimes, no biggie. But she's the girl in our sorority who never forgot a birthday and gave everyone an adorable hand-made birthday card. It's not like her."
"It's the preterm labor. She's been pissed at me since then. Although, it's weird, she didn't seem pissed when I got to the hospital. She was happy and relieved. It wasn't until a few days after that she started acting crazy."
"Danny, they put her on medicine to stop the contractions."
"Yeah."
"Does the medicine have side effects?"
"I don't know. Jesus, I hope that's all it is."
I grab my computer and set it on my lap. "I know they gave her a shot of something that started with a T at the hospital. Is that what she's taking now?"
"No, she's on progest-something."
""Progesterone?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"But that's a hormone."
"Yeah, that's it. It's a hormone."
"Well, no wonder. Hang on, let me look this up to be sure." I do a quick search then turn the computer toward him.
He reads. "Side effects can include upset stomach, appetite changes, weight gain, fluid retention and swelling, fatigue, and PMS-like symptoms. Oh my god. Why didn't the doctor tell me this? That's what it's like. She's in constant PMS bitch-mode."
He puts his hands in his face and rubs it.
"At least you know it's temporary. Danny, you love her."
"I do. Now I feel bad."
"Why?"
"Because she's pregnant with my baby and I'm telling you I want a divorce because she's being either an irrational bitch or sobbing lunatic and it turns out it's probably not her fault. She's taking the medicine to keep our baby inside her longer so it can grow and be healthy. I'm an asshole."
"Danny, you aren't an asshole. You just didn't understand. The doctor should have told you to expect this. Why don't you go see if she wants to go out for lunch?"
"Yeah," he says, getting up. "Thanks, Jay, for just listening."
"You know Phillip and I are always here for you."
"I tried talking to Phillip about it this morning. He said I should suck it up, be a man, and take care of my pregnant wife."
I melt. "Ahh, he's so sweet."
"I told him we'd revisit that conversation when you're a few weeks away from giving birth," Danny laughs. "See ya."
April 14th
Glimmers of us.
On Saturday as we're driving up to Omaha, Lori says, "I'm sorry I forgot your birthday. I don't know what's wrong with me lately."
"You're pregnant," I say. "It's okay. I know you've had a really hard time with it."
"I'm sorry I stomped out of your house too."
"It's okay. Just relax and enjoy the baby shower today. You get to see all your friends."
She smiles and pats her belly. "That will be nice. I'm so huge though."
"Of course you are. You're due in a few weeks. But you're wearing a cute dress and you're glowing with impending motherhood."
She nods. "Thanks, Jade."
The shower is so much fun and a huge success. Everyone loved the location and set up, and Lori got some adorable keepsakes from it, not to mention a boatload of gifts.
I arranged for Mrs. Mac to take Lori back to her house, citing that I had to run an errand.
I drive to the cemetery, stopping to get flowers on the way.
As I round the corner, leading to their plot, I see there is a funeral just finishing up. People in black are wandering back to their cars looking a little lost.
Which makes me sad. Sad other people have died. Sad another family had to bury ones they love. I say a silent prayer for them. A prayer hoping they will come to terms with it and find peace. A prayer hoping they don't wait as long as I did to come back to the grave of their loved one.
I park as close as I can, grab the flowers and the other items I brought with me, and walk to their headstone.
Reading their names engraved in marble stops me in my tracks.
It probably always will. Maybe because it doesn't seem like it could possibly be real.
It makes sense why they make headstones out of marble. It's cold. Hard. Like death.
I didn't tell Lori why I chose this date for her shower. I didn't want to ruin her big day with the fact that today is my dad's birthday and I wanted to visit his grave.
But now that I'm pregnant, it seems like the perfect day to tell them.
Like, in case they don't already know.
I run my hand across the marker, my fingers tracing their names and then my dad's birthdate.
"So, I know me coming here is unusual," I say to the stone. "But today is a special day." I set the flowers in the grass in front of the marker. "Happy Birthday, Dad. And although I can't really give you a gift, I want to tell you something. Something I wish with all my heart that you and Mom were here for. Something I know you would be so excited about. I mean, you probably wouldn't have jumped up and down like Mrs. Mac did, but I know you would have been super excited. I hope that somehow you still know what's going on in my life. Know how often I think of you. Hear me when I talk to you. But just in case you don't--" I set the adorable pink, fuchsia, and teal striped rattle down next to the flowers. "--I'm pregnant. Due on October the first. A fall football baby, who I'm going to teach how to hold its arms up in the air--for TOUCHDOWN!-- just like you taught me."
The tears that have been slowly trickling down my cheeks become more pronounced as I kneel on the ground.
"I have--I have a picture. I brought you a picture of the baby," I sob, setting the ultrasound photo down next to the flowers.
A voice says, "Jadyn?"
I turn to see Pastor John dressed in a dark suit.
"Oh, hey, Pastor."
He reads the stone. "Today would have been your dad's birthday."
"Yeah," I say with a smile, standing up and wiping my tears. "Were you just at the funeral over there?"
"Yes, I officiated. It was a car accident. Father of three young children. Tragic."
"Pastor, why does God let bad stuff happen? I know we all make choices and I get free will but then that doesn't make sense either. My parents didn't choose to die. Bad things happen to good people. I don't understand. I'm sure the people at the funeral you just did don't understand either, because it doesn't make sense. And, honestly, it's affected my faith."
"Do you believe in an afterlife? Do you believe your parents are still with you?"
"Yes. But is that just because it's comforting to me?"
"I thought you said you'd never come here. Is this your first time visiting?"
"No, I came here the night before Phillip and I had our last counseling session. Had a little meltdown."
"I heard about the meltdown. Your mother-in-law thought you'd call off the wedding."
"What did you think?"
"Honestly, I didn't think you would. It's pretty obvious that you and Phillip respect and love each other."
"Do you think my parents know what's going on with me? Like if there is something special going on in my life, would they know?"
"I believe they see glimmers of us. I picture heaven like a veil. They can't completely see the picture but sometimes they can make out images. I think love affects it."
"I'm torn about the whole grave thing. I feel like they aren't here, but yet I still came to tell them the news."
"And what news is that?"
"I'm pregnant."
Pastor beams. "Congratulations. How are you doing with that? I was thinking during c
ouples counseling you mentioned wanting to wait for a few years."
"Yeah, well, sometimes our brain and our heart aren't always on the same wavelength. Logically, there are a lot of reasons why waiting would have been more practical."
"And your heart?"
"It's thrilled. We had an ultrasound. Would you like to see the picture?"
"Of course."
I pull the photo out from under the flowers and hand it to him.
"Isn't the creation of life a miracle?" Pastor says, studying the ultrasound. "How far along are you?"
"I'll be sixteen weeks on Monday."
Pastor smiles. "I bet Phillip is over the moon about it."
