Ryker by Jeneveir Evans
Chapter 23
“Sometimes,” said Pooh, “the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.
~A. A. Milne~
Clair
October 21st, 1999
I was beyond nervous. I was meeting Emily and Cami in the clinic in thirty minutes. This would be the day I got to see my daughter for the first time. Since Dog and Vip had asked if I wanted to adopt Cami’s baby, I’d spent some time getting to know her. She was a wonderful young lady. I could tell that while she was smart as a whip, she wasn’t very worldly. Her parents had kept her isolated. Half the time she didn’t get to go to school because she didn’t have clothes to wear or shoes that fit.
She told me she was enjoying getting to be a kid. She loved having her own room with a bed. She said she’d never had that before. When I asked her where she had slept, she’d said mostly on the floor. She told me at one place she lived that she was given a closet of her own. I’d fought hard not to cry when she told me that was her favorite place to live because she’d had her own space. She’d used a damn closet as her bedroom. How that made me ache.
Before coming here, my mind had been blinded to what goes on in the world. Oh, I’d sometimes see things on the news or read about it, but I had thought that those were isolated instances. I’d come to learn that there were literally thousands and thousands of children that lived like Cami did. And that’s not over the entire United States, that’s per state. It boggles my mind that daily there are children going hungry. It was hard to wrap my head around the fact that there were so many children being mentally, physically, or sexually abused.
I went to my apartment and cried after that visit. I’d cried for all the innocent children in this world who, through no fault of their own, ended up broken and battered because of the circumstances they were born into.
If Cami hadn’t seemed so happy with Emily, I think I would have asked Dog if I could adopt her too.
Cami had asked about my life and I told her my history. I didn’t hold anything back from her. She needed to know who I was. She didn’t throw a fit that a club girl was adopting her child. Instead, she’d said that I deserved to have as many babies as I wanted because life had been unfair to me. I’d choked on that. She thought life had been unfair to me.
God.
Compared to her, I’d lived like a princess in an ivory tower who got everything she wanted except for children. I’d had a wonderful man who loved me. Who loved spending all of his free time with me. A man who had made me laugh, rarely made me cry, who doted on my every whim. A man who had loved me for who I was. I know I would never again find a man who loved me like Robert did. I wasn’t even going to look.
What were the chances of finding a man twice in one lifetime who loved you unconditionally? I didn’t believe those chances were very high. I know Dog and Ava had managed to find it, but they were the only ones I know who had.
I anxiously strummed my fingernails on the top of the table where I was sitting. I was waiting in the Great Room for Doc, Emily and Cami to show up. I couldn’t believe how nervous I was. I was like a teenage girl whose boyfriend was picking her up at her house and meeting her dad for the first time. My stomach was knotting up. I was afraid I was going to make myself sick.
Cami had asked me what I was going to name the baby and I’d told her I didn’t have a clue. I still didn’t. While I kept trying to think of names, I think there was a part of me that was scared to believe that I was really going to get a baby. This had been an unfilled dream for so many years that I was terrified of letting myself truly believe all of this was real.
Finally Doc, Emily and Cami walked through the dining room entrance. I hopped up, almost ran to meet them, and followed them to the clinic. Doc told Cami to go into the restroom and pee into the marked cup that was sitting on the tray and when she was through to put it back on the tray. She then told Cami to go on into the examination room and get on a bed while she got the ultrasound machine and Cami’s chart.
Even though I felt like I was about to come out of my skin, I had to chuckle at Doc. I heard her mutter under her breath that she needed to figure out a name for the damn room. It’s main purpose was as a hospital room, yet it has had to perform double duty as an examination room too.
Doc came into the room pushing the ultrasound machine and behind her was Sophie. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I hadn’t even heard her come in. Sophie was pushing a Mayo stand that had some of Doc’s equipment on it. I listened with interest to everything that went on. This was all a part of the experience that I’d missed because I couldn’t carry a baby.
“Cami, we don’t need to do a pelvic exam during this visit. Instead, I’ll be measuring your fundal height. Go ahead and lie back for me and lift your shirt.”
Doc laughed when she saw the expression on all three of our faces. Sophie was the only one who had a clue what she was talking about.
“Doc, was that term in English?” I asked. “Because I don’t think I’ve ever heard that word in my life.”
“Sorry,” she continued to chuckle. “Measuring the fundal height in layman's terms is simply measuring the stomach. What that does is tell me three things, how fast the baby is growing, the probable due date, and the duration of the pregnancy.”
“Doc, what will the urine test reveal this late into Cami’s pregnancy?” I inquired.
“It’s to keep a watch on her sugars, protein, ketones, blood cells and any possible bacteria. This allows me to make sure she doesn’t develop gestational diabetes, a UTI, or preeclampsia.”
“Does she need any blood work done?” I continue with my line of questions.
“Not right now. I did a blood test on her when I first examined her. Ideally blood tests are usually done between fifteen and twenty weeks. We didn’t manage that with Cami. She was already twenty-seven weeks along when I examined her. The problematic things I look for from a blood test came back negative. So we don’t have to worry about those conditions.”
While Doc had been talking to us, she had been measuring Cami’s belly. She’d murmur a measurement and Sophie would note it in the chart.
“Everything is measuring on track. Let’s do an ultrasound and check out this little girl.”
Doc grabbed a tube of gel out of a round nook on the machine and squeezed some on Cami’s tummy. She then turned some dials on the machine until she had them where she wanted them. Next, she picked up a thing she called the convex probe, placed it into the gel, then she started moving it around. It only took a twist of Doc’s wrist before the swooshing sound of a heartbeat could be heard.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I raised a shaky hand to my mouth. Oh my god. That was my baby’s heartbeat.
“Y’all look at the monitor,” Doc murmured as she continued moving the probe around.
I watched in fascination as the device showed my little girl. I saw her hands and feet. Her little toes. Her arms moving around. Then Doc placed the probe over her face and tears started falling down my cheeks.
She was beautiful. Her eyelashes were ridiculously long and fanned out across her cheekbones. Her little nose looked like a small cute button. Her tiny mouth was puckered up making a sucking motion. She looked just like the pictures of the Gerber baby.
I couldn’t stop the tears that fell down my face as I gazed at her. I couldn’t believe she was going to be mine. I was so afraid to believe it.
“Miss Clair, are you okay?” Cami whispered.
“She’s beautiful, Cami. Are you sure you really want to give her up?” I asked as drop after drop of liquid fell from my jawbone.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m not ready to be a mama yet. I want you to be her mama.”
A sob escaped me as I wrapped my arms around my waist and bent over. I couldn’t help myself. I cried. I cried tears of joy that I was being allowed to be a mom after so many years of trying to have a baby, after so many years of longing to hold my child in my arms, after so many years of losing baby after baby.
“Is she okay?” I heard Cami’s quiet voice ask.
Doc cleared her throat and uttered, ‘Yeah, Cami. She’s just really happy right now. This baby is her dream. A dream she’s had for a really long time. You’re making that dream come true for her.”
“I think she’s going to make a really good mom if she already wants the baby this much,” she said as she responded to Doc.
“Cami, she will make the baby a wonderful mom.”
“Good, I’m glad. I want her to have a much better life than I did.”
I finally managed to get ahold of my emotions. I stood up and looked at Cami.
“Cami, I promise you that I will love her unconditionally. I will hold her, rock her, sing to her and read to her when she’s young. And when she gets older, I’ll bake her cookies and cakes. I’ll throw her birthday parties. I’ll buy her pretty dresses and shoes so she can dress up and jeans, T-shirts and tennis shoes so she can play on the playground or in mud puddles.”
“That sounds really good.” She was quiet for a moment then in a really small voice she asked, “Miss Clair, do you think that I might come over and make cookies with you too? I think that would be a lot of fun.”
“Cami,” I forced out. “Sweetie, anytime you want to make cookies you just let me know and we will.”
“Thank you, Miss Clair.”
She flashed me a smile and, once again, my heart ached. I looked at Emily and she had tears in her eyes. When I glanced at Doc, I wasn’t surprised to see them in hers either. Sophie had turned to face me and was wiping them off her face.
As Doc wiped the gel off of Cami’s tummy, she cleared her throat and said, “This little girl looks good. She is a healthy thirty-one weeks and three days. Less than nine weeks and your daughter will be here, Clair.”
After Cami got off the bed, she came to me, turned sideways a little and wrapped her arms around me.
“Thank you, Miss Clair. Thank you so much for already loving her.”
With my arms wrapped around her, I held her close and pushed her hair out of her face and replied, “Thank you, Cami, for loving her enough to know you aren’t ready to be a mom and giving me the chance to be her mom.”
As I walked out of the clinic, my eyes were looking at the ultrasound pictures that Doc had handed me. I didn’t hear or see anyone on the trek to my apartment. Instead my eyes were focused on the face of my daughter. It was really gonna happen. I was going to be a mom. I went into my living room, curled up in my rocker and hummed while I rocked. My eyes never left the sweet face that was on the black and white paper in front of me. She was my little angel. My miracle baby. My one chance of being a mom.
There were no words to say how incredibly blessed I felt right now. Not a single one.
A smile crossed my face as it finally sunk in. I was going to be a mom.
~***~