My voice cracked slightly.
I swallowed, blinking down at the picture.
“You got a strong little heartbeat too.” A small, shaky smile pulled at my lips. “I like that.”
I adjusted my position, curling slightly around myself without thinking.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
The words came out before I could stop them.
“For not knowing you were there and for not taking better care of myself before.” My hand pressed gently against my stomach. “I got you now, though.”
And I meant it. In a way, I hadn’t meant anything in months. I looked back down at the picture and studied it again.
“Your name is Xander King.”
My chest tightened. “It means protector of humankind,” I said quietly, remembering.
My thumb brushed over the edge of the photo.
“You gon’ protect me and I’ma protect you.”
That night, I slept differently. It was the deepest sleep I’ve had since before I met Xavier King. I slept as if my body finally had something to rest for. I wasn’t just surviving anymore. I was carrying something that made me want to live. I tried to hold onto that feeling.
December 2006
Ikept the ultrasound picture tucked inside my notebook, between pages of notes I wasn’t really paying attention to. Every now and then, I’d open it just to look at Xander again. Just to remind myself that I did have something to live for in this cruel world. Seeing it made me smile.
I talked to my baby every day after that. It was probably a little creepy, but I needed someone to talk to. So I talked to Xander. When I woke up. When I walked to class. When I laid down at night.
You good?
I’m here.
I got you.
And for a while, that was enough. But a few days later, something shifted. I woke up that morning with a heaviness in my body I couldn’t explain. Not the same tired I had been feeling. This was deeper. Like my body was working harder than it should have been just to move. I sat up slowly, my hand already finding my stomach out of habit. Resting there. Although Dr. Aniston confirmed that it was normal, I couldn’tfeel Xander move, yet I prayed to feel him kick. It would make me feel better. It would be a sign. Something that would tell me everything was still okay. But there was nothing. Just stillness.
My chest tightened slightly. I swallowed it down. “It’s fine,” I whispered.
Because it had to be. I had just seen Xander three weeks ago. I just heard him. Everything was good. Dr. Aniston said so. I forced myself through the day. I got dressed and went to class. I sat through lectures and took notes the best I could. But I wasn’t really there. My body kept pulling my attention back. Back to the quiet. Back to that same place inside me that didn’t feel as full as it had a few days ago because I felt off. By the time I made it back to my dorm, I felt it again. That dull ache that I used to feel before I confirmed Xander’s existence.
I froze for a second.
Standing in the middle of the room.
My hand moved to my stomach instantly.
I did something I hadn’t done in a while. I bowed on both knees and prayed the way my granny and daddy taught me.
“Dear Lord, I know that I probably am the last person who should be asking you for anything. I know who you are. I grew up in your presence. I know that the righteous availeth much, and I have not been righteous. I had premarital sex, I am lying to my parents about being pregnant, and I lied about why I couldn’t come home for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I know that the person I’m becoming is different from the Chanel you know God. But please Heavenly Father, please… I am begging you, please show me grace anyway. Your Word says that where two or more are gathered in your name, there you are with us. God, my baby boy, Xander, and I are here asking you, petitioning you to spare us. Please protect him and me through this pregnancy. Guide us to you. Keep us from all hurt, harm, and danger. Please dispatch legions of Angels to protect us. Please give me the strength totell my family. I don’t want to be dishonest, but I believe if they know, they will force me to terminate this pregnancy, and I know this perfect gift comes from you, Lord. God, please let me have my baby. Let me love him, care for him, and nurture him. Thank you for giving him to me to mend my broken heart. Please continue to watch and protect us.”
I stood up from my prayer and remembered what my dad always said. Faith without works does nothing. I had to put my faith to the test.
I began busying myself with tasks in my dorm. “It’s nothing,” I said out loud this time.
Like if I said it with enough confidence, it would become true.
