The Next Best Thing

As they pulled out of the driveway in the candy apple Toyota Prius, Damaris stood there with her hand midway in the air, tears streaming down her face. They blew kisses to each other. Before Damaris could make it to the mailbox at the end of the driveway, they were gone. Her almost twenty-two year-old daughter and her almost five-month old grandson were on their way to Pittsburgh. Damaris was alone in her house for the first time in just about two years.

“Mama,” cried Marie sitting on the edge of her old bed, “I’m pregnant.”

Damaris’ heart broke. She sunk onto the bed and wrapped her arms around her daughter who was only midway through her junior year of college. Marie wept. Damaris rocked her like a baby, praying silently and trying to make sense of what had been revealed.

Marie was headed back to Pittsburgh that day after being home for three weeks for Winter Break. She had not mentioned anything until two hours before she was to leave for the airport.

“I’m scared, Mama,” she whispered. “I don’t know what to do.”

Damaris kissed the top of her head as her own tears fell. “Promise me, you will finish school. That is the key to financial stability for you and the baby. And if you need me to keep the baby while you are in school, I will do that. You are not alone. I will help you. Have you told your Dad and step-mom yet?”

Marie gulped in some air then shook her head. They sat in silence for several minutes, Damaris rocking her baby girl back and forth, back and forth.

“May I pray for you?” Damaris asked gently, aware that her daughter was uncertain about faith at this point of her journey.

Marie nodded her head.

“Jesus, thank you for my daughter Marie. Protect her and her baby. Give her courage and wisdom and strength. In Your name we pray. Amen.”

“Amen,” said Marie softly.  Looking up into her mother’s eyes, she mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.” The flood of tears started again.

“Oh, sweetheart. I love you. I love you so much. And I love this baby. You are not alone. We are going to get through this,” said Damaris reassuringly even though there was a widening pit in her own stomach.

All of this came back to Damaris as she made her way up the driveway. It seemed like yesterday, not a year ago.

“I have to do this, Mama,” said Marie the night before her trip. “I have to finish what I started. Eakin was the only school I finished, and that was elementary school. I moved middle schools. I did online school my senior year of high school because of COVID. I need to do this.”

“Okay. I am with you. I just don’t want you to let your pride get in the way. The most important thing is for you to get your degree. It’s all right if you transfer to a school here. You and Ollie need support,” explained Damaris.

“I have people there who are excited to meet Ollie and are willing to help.”

“I know you do, and I’m glad for that. But there is no one like family. I can’t tell you how much I missed your grandparents when you kids were growing up. I wished for them to be at every soccer game and every dance recital. They came when they could, but I was often by myself. I wanted our family to bear witness to all of your and your brothers’ achievements. I was so lonely. It was hard. I don’t want that for you…I don’t want that for Ollie.”

“Then why don’t you come with us?”

“My life is here, sweetheart. My job, my house, my friends, my community. Nashville is where I belong.”

“Mama, I’m at the doctor’s office. They are keeping me here for tests. The baby…there may be something wrong,” Marie said on the other end of the line. It was the beginning of August, only nine days until her official due date.

“Let me know what the doctor says. If I need to come up early, I will. We will figure it out.”

“I don’t want to have the baby without you, Mama. I need you here,” Marie cried, choking back the sobs.

“And I will be there,” promised Damaris, sitting in her car in the Trader Joe’s parking lot. As soon as she hung up the phone, she searched online to find a MinuteClinic where she could receive her Hepatitis B shot that afternoon. Marie insisted on that vaccine if Damaris was going to hold and kiss the baby.

Damaris dialed her phone as she drove across town to the clinic. “Chelsea, can you tell me what this means? You know I’ve never been through pregnancy before. Marie said that the baby may have an irregular heartbeat. The doctor is doing some tests.”

“That means that you need to get up there as soon as possible. If there is any sign of distress, they will take the baby early via C-section. You are going to be a grandmother very soon,” explained Chelsea with a mix of concern and excitement. “How soon can you leave?”

“Well, I need to get this shot then figure out the dogs and pack.  I could leave first thing in the morning. Oh, but I have to lead the volunteer training. Well, I guess…”

“You can do this, Damaris. Go be with your daughter. She needs you.”

“Thanks, Chelsea.” Damaris hung up the phone as she parked her car. She dashed into the CVS a few minutes prior to her scheduled appointment.

As she waited to be called into the nurse practitioner’s office, she texted her assistant.

Damaris: Marie is at the doctor’s. They are checking on the baby. It looks like I need to go up earlier than expected.

Hannah: Go! We’ve got you covered!

Damaris: At the clinic now for my vaccine. Will call you in a bit. I can go after the training.

Hannah: Sounds good. Talk soon.

“Good afternoon. My name is Whitney. So why are you needing this shot today, Damaris?” asked the nurse practitioner.

“My daughter is having a baby, and she insists that I have this vaccine.”

“It’s a good idea. We want to keep baby healthy. Is she having a boy or a girl?” asked Whitney, removing the syringe from the small refrigerator.

“A boy,” replied Damaris. Her mind was racing. She didn’t even notice when Whitney had given her the shot. “Who can watch the dogs? I can’t ask Henry. He’s still angry about moving out unexpectedly,” she thought.

“All done,” announced Whitney. “Congratulations!”

Damaris was back in her car in a flash, racing home to pack.

“Mama! Mama! I can’t do this! I can’t do this anymore!” exclaimed Marie, writhing on the hospital bed. She had been induced the morning of August 7th. It was now 4:30pm on August 8th. Although she was fully dilated and had been having consistent contractions, the baby had not yet arrived.

“I know you are tired, sweetheart. I know, but you are strong. You can do this.”

Damaris’ heart ached to see her baby girl in such pain. In her mind’s eye, Damaris saw the first moment she held Marie when Marie was a month old, the horrible night when she slept on the floor in Marie’s room because Marie was sick and having trouble breathing, the afternoons of rocking her to sleep, the twelve hour car trip when Marie would not stop crying, Marie dancing in her favorite pink ballerina tutu. Damaris prayed, “Lord, have mercy on my daughter.”

Damaris: How are you and Ollie?

Marie: We are good. He’s having trouble sleeping, but we are good. The room still smells like cat pee.

Damaris: I’m sorry you have to deal with that. I miss you both.

Marie: We miss you. We love you.

A tear fell onto her sweatshirt. Damaris lived in her gray yoga pants and the extra-large gray sweatshirt that Marie had given her when she moved away to college.

“Mama, I’m having an ultrasound in two weeks. They are going to measure the baby and tell me if it’s a boy or girl. Can you come? I really want you to be here,” asked Marie excitedly.

“Oh, thank you so much for inviting me. Let me see what I can work out.” They talked a few more minutes, Marie filling her mother in on her latest assignments and work drama. Damaris had trouble focusing.

“Mom, I hate to ask this, but Marie has asked me to join her for her next ultrasound. I have enough points for a ticket there, but I need a ticket home. Would you and Dad be willing to help me?”

“Let me talk with your Dad. I will let you know. It’s important that you are there. We will figure something out.”

Damaris hung up the phone. She sat alone in her room and cried. “O God, please…please help me. Take care of Marie and the baby. Take care of my parents. There is so much going on right now.”

The next morning on her way to work, Damaris called her Aunt Josephine. “Hi, Aunt Jo,” she chimed, forcing herself to sound cheery.

“What is it, darling? I can tell by the sound of your voice that you are not okay,” said Aunt Jo, a feisty seventy-four year old woman who had been through three marriages and three divorces, ran her own business and always had time for Damaris.

“Well, Marie asked me to join her…”

“for her ultrasound. Yes, she told me. You’re coming, aren’t you?” asked Aunt Jo matter-of-factly.

“Well, I want to. I can figure it out with work, but I don’t know where I to stay. Nelly doesn’t have space. Erin has guests. I guess I could stay with my brother.”

“He’s too far away. You can stay here.”

“But you have cats, and I am allergic to cats.”

“Well, I will rent you a place. That’s settled. Okay, I gotta go. Love you.”

“I love you, Aunt Jo. Thank you.”

“And this is the arm…the baby has two arms…and that’s the elbow…here’s the other elbow…” the nurse explained every image on the screen. Marie sat on the high table, her belly slathered with gel. The nurse moved the probe smoothly across Marie’s abdomen. Damaris sat in the low chair next to her daughter, mesmerized by the baby in front of her. Tears filled her eyes. 

“That’s a real baby in there,” she thought to herself. She looked at her daughter lying calmly on the table. She seemed so far away. Marie was having this experience that she herself had never had. She didn’t know how to reach her little girl.

“Mama…Mama…are you okay?”

Damaris wept quietly on the other end. “I don’t want to tell her what is going on. I don’t want her to worry. She’s eight months pregnant,” she thought to herself.

“I’m not okay. But I will be. I love you. And I am safe. I will call you again soon.”

“I need you to push, Marie,” instructed the doctor. A crowd was gathered at the end of the bed, watching and waiting for the little one. “I can see his head. That’s good.”

“I caaaannn’t,” wailed Marie, tears rolled down her cheeks as she rolled from one side of the bed to the other. The epidural was wearing off again. “It hurts.”

“Yes, you can,” said the doctor firmly, watching the monitor for the next contraction. “One-two-three-push!”

“Good job, honey,” encouraged the nurse who was only a year or two older than Marie. “We need you to do that again.”

Damaris stood at the head of the bed. Her daughter had told her in no uncertain terms on their way to the hospital that she was not to watch the baby come out. Little did Marie realize that her mother, multiple nurses, a resident and an intern would see all her nakedness during the thirty-six hour labor.

Damaris closed her eyes, praying silently, as her daughter gripped her hand. “If only I could bear this pain for her, but…”

“The hardest part about being a parent of young adult children is letting them make their own choices. I wish I could fix it for him…tell him what to do,” said a father at the Al-Anon meeting that Damaris recently attended.

“I cannot do this for her, but I can be with her in it…Emmanuel…God with us,” thought Damaris.

“Good job, Mama. Puuuush!” said the resident, almost cheering.

“What about the father?” asked Damaris’ friend Raj.

“He’s not in the picture…and it’s better that he isn’t.” Raj nodded his head to her definitive answer.

“Puuuuush!”

“If I push one more time, will he be out?” Marie groaned.

Damaris smiled. Her daughter was always trying to broker a deal in order to get things done most expediently.

“I’m not sure, but when I tell you to push that’s what I need you to do.  Here we go...PUSH!”

Damaris’ eyes were on the crowd of medical professionals at her daughter’s feet. Their voices sounded like they were underwater. She saw the doctor lift the tiny body up above her daughter’s knees. The umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck. His face was blue. His hair was dark. The resident unwrapped him, and Damaris heard him cry. A flood of relief rushed over her from head to toe.

“Here he is, Mama,” said the nurse. “He’s perfect. Good job.”

Marie reached out her hands to receive her son. Damaris watched her daughter transform before her eyes. No longer was she a college student. She is a single mom who is attending college. There’s a big difference.

“I didn’t want her to have to go through the hard.  It’s so hard.  Being a single mom is hard,” confessed Damaris breathlessly to her counselor.

“I know. It is hard. But her journey is not like your journey. She has you.”

“Mama…it’s taking everything in me not to get back in that car and drive home to you. It’s been a disaster ever since I arrived. We are not sleeping. I’m wracking up credit card debt. The mattress smells like cat pee. I took for granted that I had a mattress to sleep on. Ollie is crying. He misses you. I’m trying to give it a week or two. But I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do,” Marie stated matter-of-factly on the other end of the phone.

Damaris took a deep breath, knowing that she could use this moment of weakness to manipulate her daughter’s decision-making.  “I miss you. And I would like to tell you to come home now. You know you are welcome. But I can’t tell you what to do, sweetheart. You just have to do the next best thing for you…and your baby.”

“I love you, Mama,” Marie sniffed.

“And I love you.”