“I suspected you were.”
“You did not!”
“Ask Daddy! I told him your cheeks were fuller, and you had a glow to you.”
“My cheeks are full of puke, and the glow has to be a gorgeous shade of green. Jason says he’s afraid to hug me lately out of fear I might spontaneously puke.”
&
nbsp; “My poor baby. It’s so dreadful, but so, so worth it. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, and this baby will be that for you, too.”
“Thank you, Mami. I’m sure it’ll all be fine once I get past this lovely stage. I think I’ll take you up on the offer to make up a headache for me so I can go home for a while. Would you mind grabbing my purse and keys off the counter? I can’t go back in there.” What normally makes my mouth water in anticipation of holiday feasting is having the opposite effect today.
“Wait right here. I’ll be back.”
While she goes inside to retrieve my stuff, I focus on breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. I’m not sure why that helps suppress the nausea, but it does, and I’ll take what I can get. My phone chimes with a text to me and Dee from Maria.
There may be hope. Austin and several of his teammates are chartering a plane to get us back to Miami! She includes the praying hands emoji.
Oh, thank goodness! It wouldn’t be Nochebuena without you!
What she said, Dee adds. What’s your ETA?
Hoping by six. The plan is to fly south to avoid the weather in the Plains. Gulp. I’m scared.
They wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t safe, I tell her. Try not to worry. We’re so glad you’re coming. Keep us posted!
Will do.
Mami returns with my purse and keys. “I told the others about your headache, and they said to feel better and get back here for the fun later.”
“I will. Thank you for this. I just heard from Maria. Austin and his teammates are chartering a plane.”
“That’s great news. We were just saying she has to be having a meltdown over possibly missing Nochebuena.”
“She is.”
“Now get yourself off to nap. Whatever you need, Mamacita, whenever you need it, you tell your Mami, and it shall be.”
Hugging her, I blink back ridiculous tears. “What would I ever do without you?”
“Your life would be too boring to bear without me.”
“I hope I never find out.”
“Text me if you need anything.”
“I’ll be fine. Jason is taking a half day today, so he may even be home when I get there.”
“Tell him I said to take good care of my baby and her baby.”
“I will, but he’s been amazing, of course.”
“I have no doubt.”
She’s still standing outside the house to wave when I drive away. I wonder if she’s going to go back inside and tell the others I’m pregnant, but then I decide she won’t do that. After what she endured, she knows why this is a secret that needs to be kept until we’re sure. And if she does tell people? Oh well, it’s not like they won’t find out eventually.
I never told any of them about the miscarriage I suffered in August. I didn’t even know I was pregnant when I was already losing it. The whole thing was sad and traumatic. I made the choice to keep it between my husband and me because we were both too raw to have my entire family descend upon us, wanting to help.