I’ve always preferred showering alone; I never saw the appeal in sharing that time with anybody else. There’s never enough room and one person always ends up cold. And sure, shower sex is nice, but really, only for men, so that’s never really been much of a bonus. But most nights lately, Charley and I have been showering together before bed, and it’s something I genuinely look forward to. Not only is it a way for us to spend time togetheralone, but it also allows me to help alleviate some of her pain in one of the only ways I can—by allowing her to relax under the warm stream while I wash her. It also helps that the shower in the en-suite has dual shower heads, so nobody’s getting cold.
“That feels so good,” she moans as I massage her scalp.
After I rinse out the shampoo, I apply the conditioner exactly the way she told me to before moving on to her body. I grab her pink loofah, smiling to myself because, over the last month, Charley’s slowly brought more of her stuff in here and the bedroom. Both spaces feel less like mine and more likeours, and I love it. I can’t even remember the last time she slept in the other bed, which is exactly how I prefer it. When Charley turnsaround so I can get her front, something about the way she peers up at me brings me back to high school.
Brings me back to that sunflower field.
Our first kiss—myfirst kiss.
To the night I gave Charley a piece of me, a piece that was always meant to be hers.
“I love you, Sunny,” I say, meaning it with every piece of me.
She breathes out a small chuckle. “I love you too.”
Leaning in, I fuse my mouth to hers, my tongue sweeping inside as her arms circle my shoulders and she rises onto her tiptoes. Charley lights a fire inside of me, but it’s cut short when Ellie Mae’s cries come through the baby monitor. My shoulders sag as I rest my forehead against hers.
“Of course she’s cutting her nap short today.”
Charley giggles. “She’s excited about the baby shower.” Quickly rinsing the conditioner out of her hair, she says, “Stay and finish your shower. I’ll get dressed, then grab her.”
“Okay, I won’t be long.”
About ten minutes later, I’m tossing my towel in the hamper before padding down the hall in search of them. When I realize they’re nowhere inside, I head out back, finding them, and Biggie Smalls, over by one of the chicken swings. They’re sitting on a blanket in the grass, snacking on some fruit, while they watch one of the hens perched on the swaying wood. Ellie Mae’s sitting in between Charley’s legs, handing her a chunk of fruit over her shoulder before grabbing one for herself.
I join them, lying in the grass, watching the chickens run around while the dog pisses them off, until my sisters show up. It’s surreal that in just a few weeks, Ellie Mae will have a brother or sister.
I’m so fucking ready.
32
Charley, 37 weeks
Mistakes were made.
Very, very big mistakes, and now I’m suffering the consequences.
Ellie Mae and I decided to get some ice cream and eat it on the beach before my prenatal appointment, which didn’t seem like a horrible decision at the time, but as soon as we finished and it was time to go, it became evident how wrong I was. Ellie Mae decided she hated the feeling of sand in her sandals—honestly, relatable—and insisted I carry her, which typically wouldn’t be an issue, considering she’s a toddler and weighs next to nothing, but my lower back has been killing me all day, the ice cream didn’t sit well with my stomach, and Graham would rip me a new one if he knew I was carrying her. By the time we made it back to the car, I felt like I was going to puke and collapse simultaneously. Now, we’re currently sitting in a room waiting for Dr. Mitchell, and she’s bouncing off the walls, probably from the ice cream.
Like I said…mistakes were made.
I don’t typically bring Ellie Mae to these appointments, but her nana had an eye doctor appointment that she forgot about until last night and Graham had to work, so we’re having a fun little girls’ day. Or it was fun until this appointment. Now I just feel like shit. And to top it all off, when the nurse took my blood pressure—surprise, surprise—it was high. No matter how easy I’ve been taking it lately, I cannot seem to escape these higher readings. It’s exhausting, always worrying about it, always wondering if things are going to take a turn for the worst, and it’s frustrating that there doesn’t seem to be anything I can do to make it better.
A knock sounds before the door to the exam room opens. “Good afternoon, Charley,” Dr. Mitchell says warmly as she steps inside. Spotting the tiny human standing near the sink—because she apparently has ants in her pants and won’t sit in the chair—she stops and kneels until she’s eye level with her. “Well, what a fun surprise this is,” she murmurs as Ellie Mae walks over and gives her a hug. “Do you want to color while the grown-ups talk?”
“Yeah!” Ellie Mae bounces between her feet in excitement as Dr. Mitchell leaves the room, coming back a moment later with a couple of crayons and some coloring sheets on a clipboard.
After she sets her up in a chair, Dr. Mitchell takes a seat across from me. My stomach twists at the look on her face. Without saying anything, I already have a hunch about what she’s going to say, and I wish Graham was here. He comes to most of these appointments, but now that they’re weekly, it’s harder for him to swing it because of work.
“Alright, Charley, let’s jump right in, shall we?”
“Let’s do it.”
“I’ve gone over your home blood pressure readings from this week, as well as your labs and the reading the nurse did. There’s still no sign of protein in your urine, which is great news;however, these numbers are still running higher than we’d like to see at this point in your pregnancy.”
“I’ve been doing everything you’ve recommended,” I say, defeat spreading in my chest, even though I knew this was the case.
She nods, her gaze softening. “I see this a lot, Charley, and I don’t think it’s because of anything you’re doing or not doing. It’s just how it is sometimes.”
