CHAPTER 21

Don and Alisha had settled into a somewhat reasonably comfortable relationship. It was no longer “bells and whistles,” and Alisha was entering into a nesting mode in her pregnancy. She went shopping for baby clothing, baby bath articles. For the crib, she and Don shopped for sheets and blankets.

Don was glad that she was involved in this activity, and relieved that she seldom asked about his day. He did not want to tell her about his declining practice, hoping that the worst was behind him. However, when one of his nurses left on maternity leave, he did not replace her, making no explanation to the remaining staff. Becky had assumed the role of nurse manager, running the office quite smoothly. He realized that she had become his most valuable employee.

He told her, “Becky, you have been a godsend to me and I intend to raise your salary just as soon as things stabilize around here.”

“No need for that,” she said. “I’m happy that you are pleased.”

“Well, I want you to know this office could not run without your expert help. I will never, ever be able to forget your loyalty and help.”

* * *

In the weeks leading up to her due date, Alisha began to complain to Don about her discomfort. She felt that she was unattractive to him despite his attempts to reassure her otherwise. However, he found himself comparing her with his former wife. Leanne had been joyous and excited during her pregnancies, and accepted discomfort as part of the eventful process. At every new change in her body, she would say to Don, “Look what our love has done! We’re creating a new person not like anyone else on earth, Don!”

He would try to temper her excitement with practical responses such as, “It’s nothing new. Been happening for millions of years.”

“It’s the first time for us,” she said before Curtis was born. “Should be in the headlines, A STAR IS BORN!”

“You’re nuts, you know that, Lea? But you’re my nutty wife, and I love you.”

As he tried to see to Alisha’s many needs and tried to block out her irritating sighs and moans, he conceded that he was not being fair to Alisha. Curtis had been born twenty-three years ago, when he was twenty-seven, just out of medical school and beginning a new career.

At fifty, he worried about so many things, his dwindling practice, trying to furnish the new split-level house he shared with Alisha, who appeared to have little interest in it, although she said she would start to do so once their child was born.

His whining wife made him long for the serenity of his former wife. He truly hoped things would improve once the baby was born. All he wanted was a healthy child.

He attended the birthing classes with her and was pleasantly surprised to find that he was not the oldest expectant father. He met one or two men helping their wives learn proper breathing techniques during contractions, how to work through their contractions to make the process easier.

He noticed that Alisha was less than enthusiastic about the coming birth, which surprised him, knowing that as a professional nurse she should understand the birthing procedure and become more involved. To him she seemed to have taken the role of bystander, watching, not participating. He began to wonder as he saw her lack of excitement over the coming event if she could be predisposed to be a victim of a post-partum depression. He recognized her behavior as troubling, but hoped it would improve when the baby came.

On a hot, humid August night at one-thirty in the morning, Don was awakened by Alisha’s moans. He turned on the bedside lamp.

“What’s wrong?”

One look at her contorted face gave him an answer.

“You’re having a contraction?”

She nodded, too frightened to speak, her eyes begging him for help.

He got out of bed and dressed quickly in slacks and a tee shirt, all the while keeping a watchful eye on his wife.

She gasped as another contraction moved over her extended abdomen. Don placed his hand over her belly to time the internal struggle.

“Seems you are going into active labor,” he told her. “I’m going to call Joe Collins, tell him what’s going on.”

He did so, snapping his cell phone shut, placing it in his pants pocket.

“He’s going to meet us at the hospital. Here’s your bathrobe,” he told her, “and your slippers. I’ll get your bag out of the closet.”

By the time they reached the car in the driveway, Alisha had another strong contraction which made her cry out.

“Don, help me!”

“Take deep breaths. Breathe through the pain…”

“I can’t, I can’t. I don’t…don’t want to have a baby! Help me, Don, help me-e-e!”

Her reaction startled Don, and he prayed silently that they would get to the hospital in time. Because it was early morning, the traffic was light and he hoped for the best.

Alisha lay back against the passenger seat, her hands across her abdomen, her eyes closed, her mouth in a rictus grin as if she could will the pain away.

He knew she was afraid, and as he drove through the velvet black night he felt sorry for her, but only she could do the work of bringing their child into the world. Only she would feel the labor pains.

Sighing deeply, she asked him, “Is this going to take long?”

Wanting to reassure her, he knew he had to be truthful.

“Alisha, I don’t know. It could be hours or it could be soon. Depends on how quickly your cervix dilates. Joe will be able to tell you once he examines you. And I will be right by your side. I know you will do fine.”

“I—I…hope so. Didn’t know it would be this hard.”

“You’re a trooper, Alisha. A real trooper. Trust me.”

Pulling into the hospital parking lot, he remembered he had said those same words to Leanne…twenty-three years ago when Curtis had been born.