He took his time going down the stairs so as not to disturb me. He rushed us out the door and down to the car. I used the back of my hand to wipe my forehead when he placed me in the passenger seat. My hand went to my stomach, trying to erase the inky feeling at the base of my spine.
Poppa had the car kicking up dust seconds later. He held my hand the entire time he drove. I could see his lips moving, but I couldn’t tell what he was saying. Somehow, I knew in my heart that he was praying. I decided to join him because I could tell something was wrong. We were a month away from the day I was to be induced, but my body was acting like this had to happen now.
My husband made it to the hospital in record time. He carried me straight into the sliding doors. “Hey, we need help! My wife is in pain, and she’s eight months pregnant,” he called out to anyone who would listen. He paused when he realized no one was sitting at the receptionist’s desk. “What the fuck?” he mumbled to his self.
He placed me carefully into an empty seat. The waiting area was like a ghost town. “I’ll be right back, baby. I’m going to find someone to help us.” Just as he got ready to head down the hall, a petite white lady came from the back. “Excuse me, we need some help,” he spoke.
I swear to God, this woman continued to organize the desk as if she didn’t hear him. Poppa lifted his fist to pound on the window. “You got me fucked up. I know you heard me say my wife needs help!” His voice was deep and gravelly.
The woman sighed, then rolled her eyes. If I weren’t in so much pain, I’d walk over there and smack the shit out of her racist ass. She handed him a clipboard. “Fill this out, and someone will call her back.”
He slapped the clipboard out of her hand, sending it clattering to the floor. “No, go find a fucking doctor now. My wifeis eight months pregnant, and she’s in pain. We don’t have time for no muthafucking paperwork!” he barked.
I tried to regulate my breathing, but there was so much going on—the woman being difficult, Poppa and I both knowing something was wrong. I never thought I’d be one of those women to experience child labor discrimination, yet here I was, feeling more terrified than I ever had before. This could end very badly for me as a woman of color.
“Sir, please don’t make me call security,” the woman said with fear in her eyes.
“At this point, call them muthafuckas if that’s the only way to get someone other than your racist, paper-thin hairline having ass in here.”
My baby was pissed, and I wanted to calm him down, but this was serious. I only felt a little relief because I had someone to fight on my behalf. When it came to our child and me, Poppa wasn’t playing. If the lady knew better, she’d do what he said.
I hollered out in pain again. “Lyrix . . . ” I cried, reaching for him. He rushed over to me and dropped to his knees. Now that he was facing me, I could see the fire in his eyes. There was a vein running down the middle of his forehead that I wanted nothing more than to erase. “I’m scared,” I admitted.
He tucked his lips, pulled my forehead to his, and sighed. “It’s going to be okay, baby. I’m walking out of this hospital with you and our baby. I promise you that.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Will you get some fucking help? I know you see she’s in pain!”
Before anything else could be said, Dr. Brighton came from around the corner with a concerned expression. I sighed in relief when I saw her. “What is going on out here?”
Poppa stood quickly. “Something is wrong, and this lady is being a racist bitch who would rather treat us like we’re not human.” He pointed at me behind him. “Like my wife isn’t infucking pain right now.” Spit flew from his mouth because of how upset he was.
Dr. Brighton lifted her hands to calm him down. “I will deal with her. For now, tell me what’s going on with your wife.” She smiled. “I’m happy you two tied that knot. You’re about to need it.”
They both came over to me. “She’s in pain. She was supposed to be induced in a month.”
She dropped to her knees in front of me. “I’m so sorry for the way you were treated. I promise to look after you personally. Let’s get you to the back and figure out what’s going on.”
Poppa lifted me and carried me to the waiting stretcher. That white bitch had finally paged for some assistance. I held tightly onto Poppa’s hand when he lay me down. “Please don’t leave me,” I begged with teary eyes and a hoarse voice.
He bent down so we were eye to eye. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
I knew he was dead serious. They were going to have to pry the man’s hands out of mine. I was pushed down the hall, and Poppa remained in step with the stretcher. I think Dr. Brighton allowed it because of what we’d just gone through in the lobby.
Everything kind of ran together for me after that because I was still in pain. Eventually, Dr. Brighton was able to discover that the baby’s heart rate was dropping, and I had to be rushed into an emergency C-section. While they prepared a room for the surgery, my husband dropped to his knees beside the bed.
“Heavenly Father, I come to you humbly, asking that your healing hands meet my wife and daughter in the room. May you bring forth new life on this day to bless our lives with your favor and to be a reminder of your love. Of your faithfulness. Loan me your strength to fight for my family. Cover Grai in your comfort. Remove any seeds of fear that may have been planted. Meet us here today, Lord; that’s all I ask. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.”
When he lifted his head, I saw tears covering his cheeks. He was broken, but I could also see his fierceness. Poppa would burn this hospital to the ground if anything happened to me. “Promise me you will take care of the boys if anything happens to me.”
He stood to his feet with a scowl and used the back of his hand to wipe away his tears. Bending over, he pointed in my face. “Let me tell you something, Grai Mercer. You are not fucking leaving me. Nothing is going to happen to you except for the fact that you will come out of that operating room as a mother of three instead of two. Stop fucking playing with me ’cause I’m not in the mood right now.”
He marched over to the door in search of the staff, not even giving me a chance to utter a word. I gulped down whatever I thought I was going to say because he’d just told me what was what. If I weren’t in pain, my pussy would’ve been soaking wet at the way he straightened me right on out. Seconds later, he returned right on the heels of the staff.
They all kept looking over their shoulders nervously. I could’ve told him to ease up on them, but I didn’t. I was going to let him lead in this arena because we’d already been played with. If they knew he was going to be on their asses, they would handle me with the care and concern I deserved. The last thing I remembered before being wheeled out of the room was Poppa making me a promise. “I will be here when you wake up, Bubbles.”
“You are so perfect,”I heard a deep voice rumble. “I can’t wait to give you the world.”
I tried to open my eyes, but it felt like they were cemented shut. I huffed in frustration because I wanted to know what was going on. I didn’t know how many attempts I made at opening my eyes before I was able to crack them open.
I flinched from the bright light of the beaming sun. Feeling began to return to my body, and I felt a log of heat pressed up against me. My eyes rolled to the right to find Poppa lying beside me on the bed. But what held my attention was the tiny ball resting on the center of his wide chest.
