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“Preeclampsia?”
Again, I register shock. “How did you know?”
“I took a guess, but I’m familiar with the condition. It occurs when pregnant women have high blood pressure and too much protein in their urine. It can range from mild to severe.”
“My blood pressure was off the charts.” With the way my pregnancy’s been going, why should I be surprised?
“I would absolutely listen to your doctor. This condition can lead to life-threatening seizures for both mother and child.”
“That’s exactly what my doctor told me.” I’m awed by her prenatal knowledge. Is she in the medical profession? A maternity nurse? She looks too young to be a doctor.
Before I can inquire, she changes the subject. “What are you having?”
A smile returns to my face. “A girl…Isa. We’re naming her after my husband’s mother.”
I don’t go into details about who his mother was. Or who my husband is.
She glances down at my megawatt five-carat engagement ring. “Your husband must be excited.”
I shrug, noticing she’s not wearing any rings. “I’m not sure. To be perfectly honest, this pregnancy has been as hard for him as it has been for me. Maybe harder.”
I toy with the big fat diamond and matching pavé-diamond wedding band on my swollen finger. They hardly move thanks to water retention. Something called edema.
Marley notices how swollen my fingers are. They look like fish sticks. Dropping the subject of my husband, she sips her green drink and says, “You should take off your wedding rings while you can. They’re bad for circulation.”
“You’re right. I’ll do that when I get home.”
My companion seems pleased. “Better than having someone cutting them off when it’s too late…and losing a finger. I know someone that happened to.”
I shudder at the thought. All my life, knives have freaked me out. I must have had a traumatic childhood experience, though I can’t remember it. I’m terrified by my upcoming cesarean. I dread going under the knife. What if the doctor screws up and I lose my baby or bleed to death. Or both? I banish those horrific thoughts when I feel a jab in my abdomen. I put a hand to my swollen belly.
Something between a grin and a grimace spreads on my lips.
“Are you alright?” asks Marley.
“Yes.” It’s a rare moment of joy. “The baby just kicked.”
Marley’s face lights up. “Would you mind if I felt her?”
“Not at all…come on over.”
Brimming with excitement, Marley pushes back her chair and rounds the table. My hand jumps off my belly and hers replaces mine. I cup my hand over hers. Her slender hand is as beautiful as the rest of her, her skin soft and warm.
“Can you feel her?”
Another kick!
“Yes, I can! She’s going to be a fighter! Most women would kill for a little girl like her.”
Her hand lingers on my belly as if she never wants to let it go. I feel a visceral connection to this woman. This perfect stranger. Like fate brought her into my life. Brought us together.
Another hard kick and then Marley returns to her seat.
Unexpected tears well up in my eyes, and on my next blink, they begin to trickle down my cheeks. The start of another one of my many tearfests.
Embarrassment washes over me. “Lately, all I seem to do is cry. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Here…use this.” She hands me her unused paper napkin. I gratefully accept it and dab my face.
