Finding Bliss (26 page)

Before the nanny arrived, I googled “Interview Questions for Nannies” and felt like an idiot when I read through them and realized I hadn’t thought of a single one of the recommended questions. I’d only come up with:

Are you opposed to eleven-hour days?

Can you work until nine o’clock if need be?

Have you ever been arrested?

Do you drink alcohol?

Do you believe you’re being followed by imaginary federal agents?

But thankfully the much more practical people at
BabyCenter.com
had an entire work sheet with a list of more important questions like:

Do you have any formal early childhood development or childcare training?

Would you be willing to take CPR classes?

How do you comfort children and deal with separation anxiety?

I printed out a copy of the questionnaire and had her fill it out when she arrived. Born and raised in Montego Bay, she looked like she was in her late thirties. Her thick Jamaican accent and unflappable approach immediately put me at ease. I tore up the stupid questionnaire, trusted my instincts, and hired her on the spot.

No problem, man.

Cam went back to California, and Tyler moved his stuff out and into an apartment in the city. He and I kept in touch and met for lunch or dinner every few weeks. It wasn’t especially comforting to see him, but I felt that I should at least make the effort. Some nights I would cancel; others I would pick somewhere loud with lots of TVs to distract me. I bided my time by going to work and trying to pretend everything would be all right one way or another. Outside of the office I was incapable of making even the most minor decisions, so I didn’t.

When I was thirty-five weeks along, his mother threw me a baby shower at her country club. It was a little awkward given the circumstances, but she insisted. Grace came with me, and we sat among Dixie and her friends as they drank cocktails at noon, ate grilled chicken Caesar salads, and showered me with blue gifts.

Afterward, Grace drove me home, and we sat on my couch and caught up. There hadn’t been much of a chance for a heart-to-heart with Dixie Reed hovering about nervously.

“How much time are you taking off work?” she asked me.

“I’m going to take the whole three months. I’m sure I’ll be working from home as soon as I feel up to it, but I’m going to try not to go down to the office or the courthouse at all during that time.”

“Good for you, you deserve a break. What’s the latest with Tyler?”

I shrugged. “Good. Weird. I don’t know. Once he moved out, it was like starting my whole life over.”

“I was worried that was going to happen.”

“What?”

“That you’d become complacent and used to the idea of being alone.”

I looked out the window in front of me. “You think I should take him back.”

She smiled slightly. “Honestly, I do. I know he put you through hell, and you know I’m not discounting his behavior whatsoever, but then I look at you and your beautiful boy growing inside,” she choked up. “I just know how hard it is to raise a child with two parents, let alone one.” She paused and lowered her chin. “Do you still love him?”

“Yes,” I said quietly. “I just never realized how hard it was to forgive. I mean, let’s be real; I grew up being disappointed by the one person who was supposed to love me more than anyone. I could’ve written a book on “How to pull yourself up after being let down,” but with Tyler, it’s different. The betrayal is still so raw and deliberate. At least with my mother I could chalk it up to mental illness. Tyler knew exactly what he was doing. Over and over again.” My blood boiled every time I rehashed it.

“I don’t mean to sway you either way, I promise. You’re one of the best people I know, and you’re going to thrive as a mother with or without Tyler. That much I know for sure.”

After Grace left, I went upstairs to change into some comfier clothes. I had to be in court early the next morning, so I spent a couple hours reading through a deposition and preparing my petitions. Afterward, I ate half of a leftover sandwich from the fridge and decided to take a bath. I ran the water, undressed, and climbed into the tub. Just as I leaned forward to adjust the temperature, the water between my legs turned bright red.

T
he next second, I was doubled over with cramps. I let out a loud moan, tightly closed my legs and managed to turn off the water with my right hand. I sat in the tub, rocking back and forth, clutching the right side of my body as unfamiliar sounds emerged from my throat. I didn’t even realize tears were streaming down my face until I tasted them on my lips. When I looked down again, the blood was pouring out of me, heavier and faster. I held onto the side of the tub and craned my neck, looking for my cell phone on the bathroom counter. It wasn’t there. I got to my knees, pulled a towel down from its hook and threaded it between my thighs like a diaper. My entire body tensed as I inched my way out of the tub and crawled on one arm into my bedroom. I yanked the house phone down off the dresser and dialed 9-1-1.

“Nine one one, what’s your—”

“Please, I need help! I’m pregnant and bleeding profusely, and it won’t stop. My address is 1014 Maple Drive. I’m upstairs on the floor and I can’t move; blood is everywhere, please help me!” I hollered with terror, and then I moaned wildly as the pain in my side intensified.

“Try and relax, ma’am; the paramedics are on their way. I’ve sent the call, and they will be there shortly.”

I hung up and dialed Grace’s cell phone.

“Hey you,” she answered.

“I’m bleeding! Please come back! I’m lying on my floor, and I think I’m losing the baby!” I sobbed and choked, unable to breathe.

“Oh my God! I’m on my way, call 9-1-1 now!” She said and hung up.

One of the longest minutes of my life passed.

Two of the longest minutes of my life passed.

Three of the longest minutes of my life passed.

I heard a loud bang below as the fire department kicked in the side door that led into our kitchen. A second later, three firemen and two paramedics were standing over my blood-drenched naked body. They went to work at lightning speed, covering me and placing me on a stretcher. I moaned louder, and my head rolled uncontrollably from side to side.

“Please help my baby, please help the baby. I’m pregnant, oh my God, why is this happening, please don’t let me lose the baby.” My pleas and primal screams were on replay for the entire ride to the hospital. Once in the emergency room, the staff moved even more quickly than the paramedics.

“Do you know how far along you are?” a nurse asked me.

“Thirty-five weeks.”

She rushed me up to the maternity unit, where one nurse began to monitor the baby’s heart rate, and another eagerly tried to get an IV into my arm. Dr. Leonard walked in in scrubs, consulted with the team of nurses, and then came to my side.

“Your placenta has separated, and you’re losing a lot of blood. The baby is in great distress, so we have to do an emergency C-section,” he said and disappeared.

My cries and screams were so foreign to me that I could’ve sworn I was living through someone else’s nightmare. I was raced down the hall into another brightly lit room filled with people and
monitors. An anesthesiologist came to my side, injected something into my IV, and that was the last thing I remember.

I blinked and then closed my eyes.

I blinked again but couldn’t keep my lids open.

The room was empty and silent.

My head was heavy against the pillow.

My arms were weak. I couldn’t move them.

My eyes were still closed when someone took hold of my hand.

I forced them open and saw Tyler standing over me.

T
hank God,” he whispered and gently tucked some stray hairs behind my ear. His eyes were weary.

“Where’s the baby?” I asked.

“He’s in the NICU. He’s perfect. They had to resuscitate him and put a breathing tube in, but he’s doing great. A real trooper like his mom.” He squeezed my hand and didn’t let go.

“I need to see him.”

The door swung open, and Dr. Leonard walked in with a nurse. “You’re awake. Good. How are you feeling?” he asked.

“A little sore. Can I see the baby?”

“Give yourself another hour of rest, and then we’ll have one of the nurses wheel you down there,” he said and then turned his attention to one of the monitors behind me.

“Why did this happen to me?”

He gave a small shrug. “A placental abruption can be caused by any number of things, or nothing at all. The good news is that you did the right thing, and you’re both going to be just fine.”

“He’s only thirty-five weeks though?”

“He’ll probably spend a week or two in the NICU. We have to keep an eye on his lungs since he’s a little early and has a breathing tube now. But he’s doing really well.”

I choked up. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done.”

He smiled. “It’s my pleasure. Take it easy, and I’ll check back on you tomorrow.”

Tyler let go of my hand and pulled a chair over to the bed. “You okay?”

I nodded.

“You gave us all a big scare. I thought I’d lost you. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

“I don’t know what happened. I was getting in the tub and started bleeding.” I paused to fight back tears. “It was awful.”

“Everything’s okay now, shhhh, don’t get upset; you need to relax.”

I turned my face away from him and closed my eyes. His adoring green eyes were more than I could handle. “I assume Grace called you?” I said softly.

“Yeah. She called your mom, too, and again when you safely came out of surgery.”

“Is she still here?”

“She left as soon as I arrived because Jack is out of town, but she’s going to come back in the morning.”

“What time is it?”

“A little after ten.”

My body was weak, and my mind was struggling to piece things together. Once I’d sat down in the bath, everything happened so quickly. It was hard to grasp that my baby was now outside of my body and in good health. I had been so convinced he wasn’t going to survive.

“So what are we going to name this little guy?” Tyler asked.

To me, there was so much permanence and importance that came with naming a child. I would’ve loved to have had someone in my life that I could’ve named my son after, but I wasn’t about to honor Tyler’s father, Jim, with a namesake. And I never liked when
boys had the same name as their dad…too confusing. So I’d spent a few hours online in recent weeks looking for a name with no significant associations whatsoever. Just one that made me happy.

“His name is Connor. Connor Samuel Reed.” I had no intention of robbing my son of his right to his father’s last name.

Tyler smiled. “I love it. And Sammy will be thrilled.”

An hour later, I buzzed the nurse and asked her to take me down to the NICU. Tyler followed us as she pushed me in a wheelchair to the elevators. We were buzzed past security and asked to sanitize our hands and arms. I could feel my heart pounding as I was wheeled past the row of clear-plastic bassinets. As she stopped in front of Connor’s, I placed my hand over my smiling mouth and gazed at him. He was perfect, just like Tyler had said. He was covered in tubes and surgical tape, but he was absolute perfection.

“Can I touch him?” I whispered to the nurse.

“Of course,” she said.

I slowly eased myself out of the chair and stood over him. I gently placed my pinky finger into his grasp and leaned over to kiss his tiny face.

“How long will he have to be here?” I asked.

“At least a week. Until he’s eating and breathing on his own.”

Tyler held up his phone and snapped a bunch of pictures of my son and me. We fed him some formula, changed a diaper, and then headed back upstairs to my room. Tyler fell asleep on the daybed by the window.

The next morning, Grace and her mom greeted us with coffee and doughnuts.

“I can’t tell you how worried I was; I’ve never been so terrified in my life,” Grace said. “When I saw your back door had been kicked in and you were nowhere to be found, I seriously almost had a heart attack.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be silly. I was just so glad they got you to the hospital in time.”

“Thank you for calling my mom. What did she say?”

“Well, I played down the severity of the situation at first, but I thought she should know what was happening. I told her you were rushed to the hospital with contractions and that I would call her back when I had more details. By then I knew you and the baby weren’t in any more danger, so I let her know, and she was very relieved. You should call her as soon as you can. She really wants to know his name.”

“I will, after you all leave.”

“I also called Rachel because I remembered you were due in court today. She said to give you a big hug, and that she would make some calls for you.”

“You’re the best; thank you so much.”

“When can you take him home?” Sydney asked me.

“In a week or so.”

“We can’t wait to meet him,” she said.

“You’re allowed to see him, but you have to be accompanied by Tyler or me.”

“No, no, no, you rest; we’ll see him soon enough.”

Tyler showed them the pictures on his phone, and they cooed with joy. After Sydney and Grace had left, I asked Tyler to hand me his phone so that I could call my mother.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, honey, I’ve been waiting for your call. How are you? How is the baby?”

“He’s perfect, Mom; his name is Connor Samuel Reed, and he’s the most beautiful little boy I’ve ever seen.” My mom was unaware
of Tyler’s infidelity. I hadn’t had the heart to tell her, and had decided to keep her in the dark until I’d made my final decision.

She gasped. “Connor is the most wonderful name in the world. I’m so proud of you.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll have Tyler e-mail you some pictures, and you can have Vivian help you download them on your computer.”