"You knew about this." She narrows her eyes, but a smile breaks through. "A co-conspirator."
"You can punish me later."
"Oh, I plan to." She tips up to whisper in my ear, "We can have beached whale sex when everyone leaves."
"My new favorite position," I joke. "However I can get it in."
"Ugh." She scowls and smiles at the same time. "You're awful."
"I'm in love." I cradle her face in my hands.
"So am I." She puts her hands over mine, her eyes locking on me. "Thank you for this."
I nod and bend to kiss her belly, no longer just a bump. Now that we're at the end, she can't see her toes anymore. I'm gonna miss this belly, and a sudden pain harpoons me at the thought, nearly taking my breath. Once this belly is gone, so is our little girl.
Over the next hour, I try to lose myself in the soccer match, but I keep finding my ears straining to hear what they're doing in there. I figure I can ask Jade when she joins me, but she never does, and that's got me curious. I pad down the hall and surreptitiously poke my head around the corner. Jade's still there. Matter of fact, she's adding her words to all the other pen markings covering Bristol's belly. Right across the middle is scrawled the name we chose for the baby.
Zoe.
It means life. That's what's possible: that Zoe's life and death will save someone else. Bristol laughs and squirms as Jade puts the finishing touches on what looks like a baby panda.
"It tickles!" Bristol screeches, tossing her head back, her dark hair swinging behind her.
She's so beautiful and so happy. I want to freeze this moment and store it in a time capsule, bury it for safekeeping, for posterity, to show the other children we'll have a picture of their mother fierce enough to find joy in the most difficult time of her life.
What feels like days later but is only a few hours, the cupcakes are gone, the games are stowed away, the facials are done. These well-meaning women have taken Bristol from me all day, and as much as I love them, I want her back. I want her to myself. There's a strength we draw from one another that comes in the quiet at the end of the day, holding each other, talking about everything, reassuring each other. It's not much, but it seems to be the only thing that truly soothes the ache that's grounded itself immovably in my heart.
I wander into the kitchen, hoping maybe one cupcake survived, only to stop at the door. My mother and Bristol are huddled together against the sink, a tangle of arms and tears and grief and strength. Every primal instinct in my body blares for me to protect the two most important women in my life, to stop whatever is hurting them, but reason filters in and I feel more helpless than I ever have. It's just life, just death, an inexorable cycle that has shattered my illusion of control, and there is truly nothing I can do to stop the pain.
Bristol glances up from their weepy embrace, a subtle curve tweaking her lips.
"Hey babe." Her voice, husky and raspy from tears, strangles in her throat. "I was just telling your mom Zoe's middle name."
It's Millicent, Ma's name. Everyone calls her Mittie, but that's because Jade couldn't say Millicent and started calling her Aunt Mittie. It stuck, and we all adopted it, but her given name is Millicent, and like a precious heirloom, we're passing it on to Zoe.
My mom has talked so much about grandkids in the past, I'm sure these weren't the circumstances into which she envisioned her first one being born. I insinuate myself into their tight circle, enveloping them both in my arms and trying to give them strength from my depleted reserves.
"I love you," Ma whispers, pulling back to put her right hand on my cheek and her left on Bristol's. "Both of you. We'll get through this. God'll get us through it. Y'all got my prayers."
My mama might love her bottle of Ace of Spades and I may have even seen her toke a couple of times growing up when things got hard, but she never misses a Sunday. I know it bothers her that the faith she tried to cultivate for years when I was younger holds no real place in my life anymore.
"Thank you for that. We can use all the prayers we can get," Bristol replies, shocking the hell out of me. Since when did she care if somebody was praying? I guess tough times can do that to you.
I walk Ma to the door, nodding while she prattles, assuring her that I'll make sure Bristol gets some rest and promising we'll eat the food she left in the refrigerator for us.
"Marlon, look at me." She reaches up to grasp my chin, holding my eyes with an intensity I've never seen before. "Bristol is a survivor, we both know that, but she's not ready for this."
"She'll be-"
"Neither are you," she cuts in, her throat muscles working to hold back tears. "I know you're trying to brace yourself for it, but I want you to accept that you can't be prepared for this kind of pain, even when you know it's coming."
I stop trying to talk, to defend, to reassure, and instead just absorb her wisdom.
"It's obvious how much you love your wife and how she adores you, but this will change things." Ma's brows gather over troubled eyes. "You don't come out of this kind of battle without some scars, and as much as it's gonna hurt you, it's Bristol who has carried Zoe all this time, felt her move and shared her very body with her. Just remember when the time comes that it's a little different for her, maybe a little deeper, even closer to the bone. Fathers don't like to hear that, but listen to your mama, Marlon."
I don't trust my voice, but just nod. Mama is the last to leave, and I lean against the cottage door for a minute, letting the sudden silence sink into my overworked senses. I understand what my mom meant about not being ready even when I think I am, but I'm glad I at least have the next month to try.
They say God laughs when we make plans. When I go back to Bristol in the kitchen, I think that must be true. She's at the sink, right where I left her, eyes wide and red-rimmed, cheeks tear-streaked, hair rioting in thick dark and dappled waves down her back. It's not how she looks that brings that proverb to mind, it's what she says on a startled gasp of breath.
"My water broke."
38
Grip & Bristol
Birth Plan for Zoe Millicent James
Our baby girl has been diagnosed with anencephaly. However imperfect she appears to some, she is ours, and we already love her deeply and will treasure any time we have with her.
Please call her by her name, Zoe. Please ask us how we feel, if she has been active, and other things we've experienced that make this pregnancy special. This validates and honors Zoe's life.
We understand that after the birth, situations may arise that were not anticipated and decisions will need to be made. Please keep us informed so we can participate in the decisions. Please take no intervention without our approval, other than what is outlined below. We trust you will respect our wishes.
In the delivery room, we would like Zoe's father, Marlon, to be present, and the doctor who will be delivering Zoe. Other family members and visitors will wait in the waiting area.
I, Bristol (mother), would like to give birth vaginally, unless strongly advised for a C-section.
We would like to receive a birth certificate and death certificate for Zoe.
We would like her footprints and handprints.
We do not wish any testing to be done on Zoe.
If our baby's heart stops prior to delivery, we do want to be informed.
We do not want the birth videotaped, but we want plenty of photos afterward.
Any drugs given to Zoe should be approved by the parents and should be given in doses to provide maximum comfort while allowing her to be alert to meet her family and visitors while she can.
Zoe's father will cut the umbilical cord.
We would like oral and nasal suctioning for Zoe's comfort only and no intubation without our permission.
After Zoe is born, we ask that she be wiped, suctioned (if needed), wrapped in a blanket, and whether alive or stillborn, handed to us.
We would also like to give Zoe her first bath.
Please hand her first to her father Marlon, as we wish to cuddle our baby immediately. We ask that vital signs, weight, medications, and labs be postponed, if possible.
If Zoe has fewer problems than expected, please discuss all possible testing and treatment options with us.
Other than routine post-delivery care, we wish for private time with our baby. We will discuss any exceptions that should be made. We want Zoe to be with us in the room at all times.
Zoe's grandmother Millicent James will serve as liaison with family and friends, periodically providing updates and managing the flow of people that she escorts into our room, at our request only, and will help us with phone calls.
We have reserved a section of the maternity wing, and only authorized personnel and approved friends and family are allowed access. Under no circumstances should members of the press be allowed access to the area.