Joy (45 page)

“What's that?” Sasha asked.

Anya sat next to Sasha. “This is Braxton's robe. He must've left it here … when he was staying.” She lifted the bathrobe to her nose, closed her eyes and inhaled the faintness of the slight scent that remained.

“Oh, sweetie.” Sasha rubbed Anya's back. “You really do miss him.”

Anya nodded. “I've been trying to be so strong, but I guess somewhere inside, I thought Braxton would come back, because I thought God wanted us together.”

“Well, there are many things that God wants, but He still gives us free will and most of us mess up.”

Anya sniffed back tears that hadn't fallen. “When did you get so smart about God?”

Sasha shrugged, but smiled widely.

Anya placed the robe in the chair. “I'll mail this back to Braxton.”

“Why don't you lay down?” Anya shook her head, and Sasha said, “It'll be better for me if you do.”

Anya laughed, as Sasha pulled back the comforter, then helped Anya into the bed. Sasha lay next to her and rubbed her stomach.

“You know what,” Sasha said. “You haven't said a word about the baby's name.”

Anya sighed. “A part of me thought that I should wait, just in case Braxton—”

“Oh, sweetie…” Then Sasha jumped up. “Well, we've got to do something. I'm not going to call my cousin Baby for the rest of its life.”

Anya tried to laugh, but nothing would come through the thoughts that had suddenly invaded her mind.

“I have an idea.” Sasha reached for Anya's Bible. “I was reading something that was so beautiful. But now…” She turned the pages. “How am I going to find it?”

“Maybe I can help.”

“Ssshhh.”

It took her a few minutes, but Sasha suddenly let out a shriek. “Here it is!” She turned to Anya. “Listen to this.
Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.
Isn't that beautiful?” Sasha gushed. “Wouldn't that make a great name?”

“You want to name my child ‘Morning’?”

Sasha laughed, but then frowned when Anya squeezed her eyes together. “What's wrong?”

“I think we're going to have to discuss this on the way to the hospital.”

“Oh, my God! Is this it? Finally! The baby is going to come! Oh, my.”

“Sasha!” Anya giggled. “Could you help me up? We better get out of here.”

Anya grasped the bed handle and moaned.

“Breathe, baby,” Madear said softly as she wiped Anya's forehead. “Remember all of those breathing exercises?”

Anya slowly turned toward her grandmother's voice. If she says that to me one more time, Anya thought before squeezing her eyes shut.

“Hey, sis, wanna hear a joke?”

She turned to the other side of the bed. With her eyes barely opened, she could see Donovan bending over the railing. His wide grin couldn't hide the concern on his face and that almost made Anya smile. From their childhood, Donovan had never allowed the fact that she was older to get in the way of protecting her, shielding her from every pain. Anya was sure he was trying to figure out a way to even transfer the pain of childbirth from her to him.

“I'm sure I've heard all of your sorry jokes,” she squeaked, running her tongue against her dry lips.

“You're going to love this one. His mother is so stupid, it took her two hours to watch
60 Minutes”

“Ohhhhh!” Anya groaned, and tried to lift herself from the bed.

“It wasn't that bad.” Donovan chuckled.

“Madear, please tell the doctor that I need something.”

“But, sweetie, you wanted to do this naturally—”

“I want drugs!” Anya hollered in a bass that would have made Barry White proud.

A smiling nurse came into the room. “I heard you,” she said cheerfully to Anya. “Let me just check the monitor and do a quick examination and I'll get the doctor.”

“I can't stand this.” Sasha had been standing in the corner, as far away from Anya's bed as she could get. “Shouldn't the doctors be taking her now? Anyone can look at her and see that she's going to have a baby.”

Madear gave Sasha a long glance. “Now, you be quiet. Anya is going to be just fine.”

“But she's in pain!” Sasha exclaimed, whining as if she felt each stab that went through Anya's body.

Madear smiled. “It's natural,” she said. She turned back to Anya. “Hold on, baby. The doctor will be here. Hold my hand if you need to.”

At that moment, Dr. Moore entered. “Well, Anya, how are you doing?”

She shook her head. “I'm ready to get this over with, Doctor.”

Dr. Moore looked at the chart at the foot of the bed. A slight frown crossed her face, and she quickly glanced at the monitor. But when Dr. Moore looked at Anya, the smile that she had walked in with returned. “Okay, let me take a look at things.”

As the doctor put on the thin plastic gloves, Madear moved away, and motioned for Donovan to do the same.

Sasha had backed herself into the corner. Madear chuckled and hugged her. “Baby, what's going to happen when you have to go through this?”

Sasha shook her head. “Uh-uh … I don't think this is for me,” she whispered. “Anya's the strongest person I know and look at her.”

Donovan joined in. “Madear, do you think Anya's all right?”

“You two are something else. There's a baby inside of Anya who's trying to come out. It's going to hurt a little.”

“I guess it depends on what's your definition of ‘little,’” Sasha moaned.

“Excuse me.” They hadn't noticed the doctor. “Can I speak to you?” It was Madear's turn to show concern. “What is it, Doctor?”

The doctor motioned for them to leave the room. As they got to the door, Madear looked back. Anya's eyes were closed and the nurse was hovering nearby, checking the monitor.

“Is everything all right?” Madear asked the moment they were in the hall.

“Yes, but there is a small problem,” Dr. Moore said, but then she quickly added when she saw their horrified glances, “The baby hasn't turned fully and I don't know why. I'm concerned because I didn't see this coming. It may be because the baby is a bit premature, but only by a few days.”

“This sounds serious,” Sasha said.

As another pregnant woman was wheeled past them, the doctor motioned for them to sit on the bench across from the nurse's station. “What we're dealing with is what's termed a breeched birth.”

Madear gasped, and Donovan put his arm around his grandmother.

“Breeched—the baby is not in the right position for birth,” Donovan said.

“That's right,” Dr. Moore smiled, trying to reassure them. “I'm going to take a number of steps. First, we have to find out why this has happened. If it looks clear, then I'll try to turn the baby. But I don't want to get too far into labor. I might decide to deliver the baby by Cesarean.” The three gave a collective sigh. “There's nothing to worry about, but now I have to get back in there with Anya.”

Madear stood. “I'm going with you,” she stated, in her schoolteacher's tone.

When Sasha and Donovan stood behind bet, the doctor's brow creased.

“It's just going to be me,” Madear assured the doctor. She turned to Sasha and Donovan. “You two stay out here. Everything is going to be all right.” Then Madear started down the hall and the doctor followed her.

Sasha fell back onto the bench and covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, God, Donovan. Anya gave up so much for this.”

Donovan nodded, and pulled Sasha into his arms. “I know, but she is going to make it.”

Sash nodded in agreement, taking comfort in his confidence.

“But there is one thing we can do,” Donovan said suddenly.

“I know. It's time for us to pray.”

They closed their eyes, held hands, and spoke to the Lord.

Sasha's heels played a slow rhythm on the tiled floor. She glanced at the clock again. More than forty-five minutes had passed. She sighed loudly, and the nurse behind the desk smiled sympathetically. Sasha smiled back, determined not to ask the question she'd asked at least a dozen times—how much longer.

“Here you go, cuz,” Donovan said, handing Sasha a cup of coffee. “Any news?”

Sasha took a sip from the plastic cup, crinkled her face, and placed the cup on the floor. “Nothing and I can't stand this.”

Donovan took a sip of his coffee and made a face that matched Sasha's before he placed his cup on the bench.

The large steel door to the room opened and Madear came out with her hands covering her face. Sasha and Donovan jumped up.

“Madear!” Sasha called, her voice shaking.

Madear looked up, gave them a long glance, and a slow smile spread across her lips.

“The Lord has blessed this family with a healthy, beautiful baby girl.”

“Oh, thank you, Jesus!” Donovan yelled.

“Can we see her?” Sasha asked.

Madear nodded. “The doctor asked that we give her a few minutes. She wants to clean up the baby and make sure Anya is okay. Cesarean births are tough on the mother.”

“How is Anya?” Sasha asked.

“She's fine. She was awake through the birth and is in a bit of pain, but we have a lot to be grateful for.”

“Oh, yes,” Sasha gushed. She paused for a moment. “Donovan and I have been praying. I feel like we owe God a big thank you.”

Madear's face was shining with pride. She ran the palm of her hand across Sasha's cheek. Then, she took Donovan's hand. “That's a great idea.” When Madear lowered her head, her grandchildren followed. And in the middle of the hallway as nurses and paramedics wheeled patients by, Madear led the Mitchell family as they poured praise to the Lord.

The nurse helped Anya sit up a bit in the bed, then settled the baby into her arms. Dr. Moore smiled. “I'll tell your grandmother that they can come in now.”

Anya said, “Doctor, can you give me just a few moments?” She squirmed against the pillows trying to find a comfortable place. But she didn't take her eyes off the baby.

The doctor smiled knowingly. “I'll keep them at bay for a while. You did great, Anya.”

When she was alone, Anya allowed herself to breathe deeply. She peeked under the blanket and looked at the baby's feet, then took the small hand into hers. The baby's face was framed by straight brown hair, and through the half-opened slits, Anya thought her eyes were light brown. She pulled the baby closer letting it feel the pounding in her chest, then gently pulled back to stare at the tiny infant.

This was the moment she had secretly feared—what would she feel like the first time she saw her baby?

As she stared at this life in her arms, tears came to her eyes. All she saw was the baby, and she was consumed with an overwhelming feeling of love.

She brought her lips to the baby's forehead. The baby made a light sound and squirmed. Anya held her breath, hoping the baby wouldn't start to cry. But a few seconds later, the baby settled comfortably in the crook of her arm.

“I may not know how to feed you,” Anya said softly, “or change your diaper or even hold you, but I know how to love you.”

She kissed the baby again and then raised tearful eyes to the ceiling. “Thank you, Lord.”

“She is so precious,” Sasha cooed.

They nodded their heads in agreement.

Madear stroked the hair on the baby's head. “She is beautiful. She's so light—”

Their eyes turned to Madear.

Madear looked at her grandchildren. “What? I was just saying that she's so pale, I hope she darkens up soon,” Madear said sternly, then let a smile cross her face.

They laughed. “I think she's beautiful just the way she is,” Anya said, bringing her baby closer and kissing her forehead.

“So how does it feel?” Sasha sat on the edge of the bed. “You're a mother.”

“It's pretty amazing, huh? Madear, I'm going to need a lot of help.”

Madear beamed. “Baby, by the time I finish, you'll be begging me to hold your own child.”

Anya laughed, but it was only a short one. She knew her grandmother was serious, and she would have to set the rules from the beginning.

“We have to let the mother and baby get some rest,” the nurse said as she came into the room. “The sooner she rests, the sooner we can get her home.”

Anya nodded, grateful for the nurse's reprieve. She was exhausted. She allowed the nurse to lift the baby from her arms, but she watched until the nurse placed her into the bassinet.

“Okay, sweetie,” Madear said, kissing Anya. “I'll call you later. I'll be back tomorrow.”

“Me too,” Sasha kissed her next.

“Thanks for making me an uncle.” Donovan lingered behind for a moment. “You know, Mom and Dad are proud.” He hugged her tightly.

After they left, the nurse rolled the bassinet closer to Anya's bed. “I'm going to be right outside. If you need anything, push this button.” The nurse pointed to the device on the side of the bed.

Moments later, when the nurse stepped outside the room, Anya raised her head to take another look at her baby. She smiled and closed her eyes. It was over, but she knew it was all just beginning.

Anya heard the steps in her room and opened her eyes.

“I'm sorry to wake you,” the nurse smiled. “Just wanted to check on you and the baby.”

“That's okay, I was awake. How's the baby?” Anya whispered.

“She's just fine. I wasn't going to wake you, but there's a gentleman here to see you. He's been waiting for a while, and even though it's past visiting hours, I thought I'd let him in for a few minutes. He said it was important that he see you.”

Anya grimaced at the pain as she pushed herself up. Her chest began to pound.

“I'll get him now,” the nurse said.

She ran her hands over her head, trying to smooth down her hair. Then she tightened the robe around her chest. The door opened and he entered.

Anya stared at him for a long moment, and then she smiled.

“David.”

His dimpled smile was wide as he walked toward her. Without a word, he hugged her gently, before he glanced at the baby, then sat on the edge of the bed. He took her hands. “They said I only have a few minutes.” He spoke softly. “It's so good to see you.”

“When did you get back?”

“Today. Dianna called a few days ago, and told me that you were having the baby any day. It looks like you did a great job.” He glanced at the baby again. “She's beautiful.”