Precious Consequences (5 page)

“I’m right here, baby girl, I’ll never let anything happen to you. I promise.”

Her eyes widen and she watches me, the swing moving back and forth. Scooting forward, Ari lets go and throws her body into the air. She lands safely in my arms and I drop to the ground playfully, pretending that the force of her jump knocked me over. She laughs loudly and I join her as we roll around on the ground. I don’t care that my dress is going to get dirty or that my hair will be full of grass. All that matters is the little girl laughing in my arms. Her brown eyes, so much wiser than her years, look up at me and I freeze the moment, storing it in my mental memory box so that on the days I doubt myself, I can watch it over and over again. How can such a small person be such a profound source of strength? It’s unfathomable. That this little girl, born of my flesh and my blood, can love so freely and openly. I see no judgment in her eyes, no hate or anger. Just love and innocence and kindness in the purest form. I squeeze her to me and her arms wrap around my waist.

“I love you, my precious Ari,” I breathe into her hair.

“I wuv
you, mommy.” Her sweet voice comes as a whisper, and it tugs at my heartstrings. I lay a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Ari sits up. “Macy!” she yells, jumping to her feet and running to her friend. I spot Macy’s mother strolling in our direction and stand up, making my way towards her and the girls, who have already started playing.

“Macy, sweetheart, don’t go far. Stay where mamma can see you.” Macy’s mother looks at the girls and then back at me. I give her a small smile and to my surprise she returns it.

“I wanted to apologize, I was rude earlier and I shouldn’t have been,” she says, embarrassed. “My momma would turn in her grave if she ever heard me talking to a stranger like that.”

“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have been listening to your conversation, but I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m not, but I will be,” she replies. “I’m Taylor,” her hand comes out and I shake it. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hayley,” I reply. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“Looks like our girls have gone and become friends,” she remarks, chuckling. I watch in amusement as Ari talks Macy’s ear off, while Macy sits quietly, content, and listens.

“Yeah,” I giggle. “Would you like to have something to eat? I packed a picnic for me and Ari.”

“Oh no, I don’t want to intrude.”

“Please,” I insist. “I packed too much food for just us anyway and I’m happy to let the girls play for a while.”

Taylor looks down at her watch before saying, “I have another two hours before my next shift, so I guess it will be okay.”

I lead her to where I placed the picnic blanket and lower myself to the ground. I take out a fresh ham, cheese and tomato sandwich and hand it to her before opening one for myself. We eat in a comfortable silence for a while, watching Macy and Ari.

“I’m not sure how much of my conversation with Macy’s dad you heard, but I’m not a bad mamma,” Taylor says. “I need
to clarify that.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t think that at all,” I reply, my expression somber. “I understand.”

She meets my gaze and something passes between us. A silent acknowledgment.

She sighs and her shoulders drop in defeat. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she mutters, looking down at the half eaten sandwich in her hand. “Macy’s dad won’t pay for her daycare anymore and the only way I can afford all of it is if I take on another shift at the diner, but then I have no one to look after Macy when I’m at work.”

I look at the girls and then back at Taylor. “I can help you,” I say. “At least until you can work things out with Macy’s dad.”

Taylor lifts her head and shakes it. “No, I can’t make myself a nuisance to other people.”

The internal struggle is written all over her face and she’s doing a terrible job of hiding it. Something about Taylor just screams ‘Help Me’ and if I didn’t understand how hard it is raising a child, I probably wouldn’t even offer to help. But I do understand. And she does need the help.

“I’m happy to do it,” I reassure her. “My grandmother picks Ari up
on Mondays and Fridays, and I get her on Wednesdays. Macy is more than welcome to come home with us until your shift is done at the diner.”

Her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth and she nibbles on it before saying, “Are you sure though? You’re offering to help a complete stranger?”

I chuckle at her skepticism and shrug. “We’re all strangers until we decide to be friends. Besides, it will be nice having someone who gets it.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she pauses. “I promise, it won’t be for long, just until I can save enough money to take care of Macy’s daycare for a while.”

“Take all the time you need,” I say in earnest.

We turn
our gazes to Macy and Ari who are both running towards us. They drop onto the blanket and Taylor and I give them each a sandwich and a juice box. We talk a bit more and I learn that she’s only twenty two, and got married to Macy’s father, Jace, when she was my age. I also learn that it’s literally just her and Macy, which also makes me sad for her. Her mother and father died when she was young and her grandmother disowned her when she found out Taylor was pregnant, even though she was married at the time. She’s very easy to talk to, and as soon as the girls are off playing again, I find myself confiding in her. I don’t tell her everything, but just enough. Besides Hannah, I feel Taylor might just become another friend, and I’m grateful for it. True friendship is somewhat of a novelty to me. The people I grew up with called me their
friend
, but in reality, they were the exact opposite. When I needed them, they weren’t there and for some silly reason, I was surprised to find that they had deserted me.

“We’d better get going,” Taylor says, interrupting my mental trip down memory lane. “I need to get Macy home.” She hesitates. “And thank you, Hayley. I really appreciate it.”

“No biggy,” I reply. “Us single moms have to stick together, right?”

We giggle and pack the remainder of my stuff into my car before Taylor and I head in separate directions. Ari quickly falls asleep in the back
and when I finally make it back to my grandmother's house, I spend a good twenty minutes watching her sleep. My mind shifts back to when she was born, and if I thought the day I found out I was pregnant was the day that
really
changed my life, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

~ July 1st, 2011 ~

As I lie down on the sofa and stare out the living room window, I absentmindedly stroke my rounded belly and wonder what my little munchkin is doing in there. She hasn’t moved in a while and I miss the feeling of her tiny foot touching my palm. I’ve come to embrace this pregnancy, however unexpected it was, and accept it. Accept
that in eight weeks I’m going to be a mother. The road behind me has been a difficult one and I have no doubt that I only made it this far with the unconditional support from my grandmother. There have been moments when I’ve wished that things were different, but only because I envisioned sharing my first pregnancy with the father of my child. But I’ve learned that not everything happens the way we plan it and if we’re lucky, we’ll survive however they happen. The first time I felt my baby kick, I cried. The magic of the moment was overwhelming, but so was the realization that I’m doing this alone. Sure, I have my grandmother, and she made that clear from the beginning, but it’s not the same. I had to make peace with my decision not to tell Kyle or my parents that I was pregnant. At the time, I felt like I was doing what was best for me and my baby. But some days my fears made me wish I had told them, even knowing that it wouldn’t change anything.

With a heavy sigh, I lift myself off the sofa and walk to the kitchen. My belly grumbles. “Okay, princess,” I coo. “Mommy’s going to feed us now.”

A sharp pain shoots through my belly and my spine, and I double over from the force of it. I let out a yelp and grip the kitchen counter until I think the pain is over. I straighten but then another pain shoots through my body and this time I scream. I feel warm liquid pool between my legs and expect to see that my water has broken. Instead, blood starts to stain my gray yoga pants and I panic. I’m alone at home and that only makes my sense of panic increase. With labored movements, I manage to grab the phone and call an ambulance. They arrive within ten minutes and by the time they’re wheeling me into the hospital, my pain is nearly unbearable. I’m rushed into the operating room and soon my obstetrician comes bursting through the doors. Three nurses follow behind him, each with a different piece of equipment, and they start setting everything up with a speed and efficiency that’s uncanny.

“Okay, Hayley,” Dr. Burke says, taking in my pained and sweaty appearance. “I’m going to see what’s going on with your baby.”

His serious expression frightens me, and it gives rise to tears. The physical pain and the fear of not knowing what’s wrong are strangling me. I’m lifted onto the hospital bed and roughly stripped of my yoga pants. Dr. Burke covers my lower body, propping my legs up, and starts feeling around my vagina. A nurse presses a wand to my stomach.

“Ow!” I scream, struggling for breath between my sobs. “What’s going on? What’s going on with my baby?” My voice is hysterical and the questions come out rapidly and are almost indecipherable.

Dr. Burke ignores me, watching the ultrasound screen with a concerned expression on his face while feeling around between my legs. He lifts his hand and removes the bloody glove.

“Prep Miss Tanner for an emergency C-Section immediately. The baby has gone into fetal distress and is losing oxygen too quickly. We need to get her out now,” Dr. Burke instructs his team.

There’s a sudden increase in the flurry of activity around me and my head is swimming. I’m given a shot of Demerol and an Epidural for the pain.. The nurse is speaking too quickly for me to catch anything she is saying.

“What’s going on?” I ask again. “Dr. Burke, is she okay?”

My questions go unanswered and the last thing I hear is “Quickly, she’s losing too much blood.” Then I hear a cry and voices and…nothing. Everything goes black. There’s no pain. No light. Just nothing.

After what feels like forever, my heavy eyelids start to lift. I cover my face to avoid the sharp light, moaning in protest. Soft hands brush my forehead.

“Hayley?”

I open one eye, the obscured image of my grandmother coming into focus. Her worried smile is gentle and judging by her red, puffy eyes she’s been crying.

“Gama?”

“I’m here, sweetheart.”

My hand slides down to my now flat stomach and everything comes back to me, hitting me like a freight train.

I struggle to sit up, ignoring the pain in my lower abdomen. “Where is she?” I ask loudly, looking around frantically. “Where’s my baby?”

I fear the worst and tears threaten to spill.

“You need to calm down, sweetheart,” my grandmother says, soothing me. “She’s in an incubator, in NICU. She had some trouble breathing but I’ll get the doctor and have him explain it all to you.”

As if summoned, the door to my room opens and Dr. Burke walks in, holding a chart. A short nurse shuffles in behind him and starts taking my vitals.

“I’m glad to see you’re awake, Hayley,” he says. “You gave us quite a scare.”

I wince when the nurse checks the dressing on my stomach and then look back at Dr. Burke. “What happened?” I ask, concerned. “Is she okay?” I swallow my panic quickly and will myself not to freak out.

“She’s doing fine,” he reassures me. “She went into fetal distress when her umbilical cord wrapped around her neck and cut off her oxygen. It’s normal for the mother to experience blood loss and sever pain in those cases, which is what happened with you. You also lost a significant amount of blood once we delivered your baby, due to some unforeseen complications. Fortunately, we saved both of you before it was too late.”

I blink back tears again, feeling relieved. “Can I see her?”

Dr. Burke nods, saying, “Yes. Because she was premature, we’ve incubated her to make sure her lungs are able to function fully on their own. I will have a nurse bring you a wheelchair and your grandmother can take you up to see your baby. I will be back in a few hours to check on you. Hopefully you and your baby can go home soon, as soon as I’m happy with your progress.”

I nod once. “Thank you, doctor.”

He gives me a small smile and leaves the room. When another nurse has come in and helped me into the wheelchair, my grandmother takes me up two floors to the NICU, where there are newborn babies in incubators and their parents huddled close. My grandmother pushes me in front of an incubator, the name ‘Tanner’ stuck on it, and I take the first look at my baby. My little girl. She’s tiny. The pink blanket wrapped around her hugs her body and makes it look like she’s in a cocoon. Safe and warm and loved.
When I look at her face, I feel my protective instincts kick in and I have to resist the urge to pull out the small tube stuck up her nose, I would die before I allow anything to harm her.  I stick my hand through the hole in the side of the incubator and touch my daughter's skin. As if she knows I’m here, her
eyes open and my heart stutters. I feel it, the bond that will forever tether me to this little life that is now entwined with mine.

“Do you have a name picked out for her?” my grandmother asks me.

I look up at her and see her eyes grow wet. I also see something else etched firmly on her face and aside from the love and adoration this woman has for me, I see pride. Genuine my-heart-is-going-to-explode pride.

I smile. “Arianna Marie.”

Tears slide down my grandmother's face and she squeezes my shoulder. Marie is my grandmother’s name, and I felt it was fitting to give it to my daughter. It’s strong, and kind, just like the woman it comes from.