Page 72 of 4 Corinthians

When I got to my car, I got in and waited for Psalms to get into hers. Once she was safely in her car, I started my car and left. I hated the fact that Robert still controlled so much of my life. Even from afar. I wasn’t escaping him. I was also starting to grow numb to that fact. I didn’t have any more tears left to cry; there was no reason for them anyway. Nothing was going to change.

I needed to grab a few groceries, so I stopped by the store. I walked through the store, grabbed what I needed, paid for everything, and left.

In the middle of the cereal aisle, I stopped walking and stared at a man walking. Dressed in black jeans and a white shirt that was stretched over muscles that I knew took hours to form in the gym. Golden-brown skin was covered in tattoos. His beard was short but full, his lips were thick, and his nose looked like it had been broken more than once. I couldn’t see his eyes because they were hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses, and a KC hat covered his hair. Normally, when I noticed men watching me, I got nervous, antsy to a degree, but not with him.

I took a step towards him. “Excuse me,” an elderly woman said, stepping in front of me. “Do you think you can hand me that bag by your head?” I looked to my right at the bag of cereal she was pointing at. I grabbed it and handed it to her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, then turned back to see if the man from earlier was still there. He wasn’t. There was something about him that made me look for him when I walked down every aisle. I never saw him again.

***

“Push, Corinthians!” Psalms said from beside me. “Push!”

I bared down, grabbed the back of my thighs, and pushed. I wasn’t ready to be a mother yet, but this baby didn’t care. It let me get home, put up my groceries, take a shower, and as soon as I got out, my water broke. I knew that typically first-time mothers' labor lasted hours, not this one. This kid was ready to come out. By the time Psalms got to my house, my contractions were less than six minutes apart and strong. On the way to the hospital, Psalms called Madea and told her what was going on. She met us at the hospital.

“There you go,” my doctor said. “I can see the head. Give me a few more good pushes, and you will be holding your baby.” She looked up at me. “On the next contraction, I want you to push just like that, okay?”

“Okay,” I replied.

“Here we go,” the doctor said. “Push, Corinthians.” I took a deep breath and pushed as hard as I could. “We have a face. Give me two seconds before you push again.” She moved, and the nurse handed her something. I looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. “Alright, let’s go. Let’s get this baby out. Push, Corinthians.” I nodded, then bared down again. Pushing harder than I did before. I felt something that felt like fire flash through my body, then push, then relief. “And it’s a boy!”

“Thank you, God,” Madea said, standing beside me. She patted my arm and nodded. I could see the tears in her eyes as she smiled.

“Auntie, you want the honor of cutting the cord?” she asked Psalms.

“Yes,” Psalms excitedly answered. We’d already had a conversation about her cutting the cord. “Oh Sissy, he’s adorable.” A few seconds later, the sound of crying filled the room, and a baby was set on my chest. I didn’t move or wrap my arms around him; instead, I looked out the window.

“The easy part is over; let's get this placenta out, and you cleaned up so you can hold your baby,” the doctor said. I sat up, bared down again, and pushed out my placenta. While they cleaned me up, I watched Psalms and Madea watch over the team who was checking out the baby.

“He’s good,” the doctor said. I looked at her and lifted my brow. “You look concerned but also have that mother's glare in your eye. Like you’re waiting for someone to say or move the wrong way, and you’ll jump from this bed for that baby. He’s good. They are doing a quick post-delivery check on him, then they’ll wrap him up for you to unwrap him once he’s in your arms like every other new mama does to check him out.”

I lay back and looked at the ceiling.

“Oh, he has the prettiest eyes,” I heard Madea say. “What are they? Grey? Blue?”

I squeezed my eyes tight to keep my tears from falling.

“Corinthians, look at him,” Madea excitedly said. I couldn’t. I couldn’t look at a baby that reminded me of Robert.

“I will later,” I said. I was feeling overwhelmed.

“Corin-“

“Later, Madea.”

I covered my face with my hands when I heard him start to cry. My body started to shake.

“What the hell is going on with her?” I heard Psalms ask.

“Labor shakes,” my doctor answered. “It’s not abnormal and should subside quickly.”

“She should be holding her baby and bonding with him,” Madea said.

“And she will, Mrs. DeCorte; the shakes are typically harmless but are unpredictable. One of you holding the baby while she settles is okay. I usually encourage mothers to let someone else hold the baby while they deal with them. She doesn’t really have any control over her body, and they aren’t a cause for concern with them being this mild, but I would rather be overly cautious.”

“Are you sure?” Madea asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” my doctor replied. She patted my leg. “Corinthians, you’re going to feel like you're shivering from the cold, but if you feel anything other than that, do not hesitate to let someone know. Press that call button immediately.”