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“It was fine, but Tana didn’t let us get any sleep at all” Us? Meisha cut the BS and tell her the truth.

 

I cursed my conscious for trying to get me to be so transparent and continued on with my rambling just to add a little embellishment to my lie. You see, my mom was no fool and could sniff out a lie from a mile away. I had to keep going to sound believable.

 

“We had a long night that’s why he’s over there still knocked out. You hear him snoring” No. HE’s knocked out because he’s been out doing God knows what with God knows who. Meisha, please. Tell the truth.

 

The lies just poured out my mouth, yet left such an overwhelmingly sickening residue. I could literally taste the disgust that I had with myself for lying. Guilt was swirling so wildly in my stomach that I felt like I could vomit at any minute.

 

How could I lay there and put on this Academy Award winning performance as if nothing transpired last night? How could I look right into the eyes of a woman that just wanted the best for me and I lie so boldly? Why was I covering up for a man that left his child’s mother alone to fend for herself and their baby after a major surgery?

 

My act was solid though. My voice didn’t crack or waver. I was careful to make sure there was no mystery in my eyes that she could use to draw clues from. Heck, I told the lie with so much conviction that for a second even I had convinced myself that last night really was a fairytale. Had I given off the slightest sign of distress she would’ve flipped on Tana’s dad. There would’ve been Hell for him to pay and there would’ve been no staff member strong enough to stop her rage. You see, my mom is more of a ready-shoot- then aim kind of women. In other words, the clarification and questioning tends to happen later - - after she’s handled the situation. You just don’t hurt “Jodi’s kids” and now that baby Santana was in the picture, excuse my French but, shit got real. Don’t get me wrong she loved her kids but the love she had for her first grandchild was just…different. Intense.

 

 “Oh well honey welcome to motherhood. Kiss that sleep goodbye for the next 18 years,” she joked, “and wake him up. Nook (the nickname she called baby Santana) is both of y’all baby. When my Nook wakes up that means both of y’all need to be up taking care of him. BOTH.".

 

“Geez. Thanks Ma” I rolled my eyes in a semi-joking way. Part of me laughed with her, but the greater part of me was petrified. To be honest, I was scared of this new life as a mom. I had so many questions, but the one that haunted me the most was: Was I cut out for motherhood if I had to do it alone without help from Tana’s dad? Tana’s dad was already off to a rough start. Yet, I immediately tucked the thought away into a small corner in my mind and reassured myself that he Would come around.

 

This is his first child and he’s a boy. What father doesn’t want a mini version of himself? Chill out. He only left one time. It’s not going to happen again. Remember sis, you carried baby Santana for nine months which was a constant reminder to you that you were a mom. Santana’s dad didn’t have that, so don’t be so hard on him right now. Let him adjust. It’s just hitting him that he’s a dad. Relax. He will come around.

 

I tapped Tana’s dad to wake him up. Soon, like a swinging pendulum, visitors were coming and going throughout the day. Armed with cards and balloons, each visitor made me feel so incredibly special. So immersed in the love, I forgot about feeling abandoned just last night. If nothing else, I would always have my family and my friends to help support me with Tana…right?

 

As night was drawing closer, like always my mom was the last visitor to leave.

 

“You sure you don’t need me to stay?” she asked with pleading eyes. Had she not fully bought my act earlier?

 

“No Ma. We got this. We are parents now. Ain’t that right?” I said looking over to Tana’s dad.

 

“Yep. We good over here,” Tana’s dad replied in between planting kisses on baby Santana’s cheek. Though he was talking to us, he didn’t break his gaze with our son. It was almost as if he was in pure awe as if to ask: Did I really help create another human being so small and precious?

I was convinced.

 

My mother was convinced and so she left us three alone.

 

Baby Santana.

 

His Father.

 

Myself.

 

Life couldn’t have been more perfect than in that moment. The thing is before Santana’s dad and I were parents, we were best friends. He knew my darkest secrets, greatest fears, and wildest dreams. Our conversations were effortless. He was the only one that understood my corny jokes and I was the only that knew the person he was beneath his goofball exterior – genuine, caring, and passionate.

 

“Meisha I really lov…”

 

He was loudly and obnoxiously interrupted before he could even complete his sentence.

 

 

“AYO, WHAT’S UP MY NIGGA. Hey Meisha. Yoooo y’all really have a baby together now that’s crazy. I ain’t mean to be loud. What’s up y’all? I meant to come earlier but the woman told me it’s still visiting hours and shit..”

 

I looked up and saw not only the boy yelling (who I knew very well), but two others enter my hospital room with him.

 

I had never seen these other two  in person before. I had only seen them commenting rather flirtatiously on my child’s father Facebook pictures.

 

Needless to say, they were not males.

 

These same two did not have my permission to visit my room - - not from me anyway.

 

The encounter was awkward at best and disrespectful at worse. My child’s father had to give them the room number and hadn’t even thought to discuss this visit with me. Tears swelled up in my eyes, but not out of sadness. No, this was rage. Enough was enough - - even for a kind-hearted person like me! I shot Tana’s dad with a look that could kill and by the look on his face, I know that he (and everybody else in the room) could feel my fury.

 

Things were about to go all the way left and I was ready to take it there….

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