Page 176 of Tell Me What You Want, Or Leave Me

When Eric sees them, he can’t stop laughing until I throw a shoe at his head. Poor thing, I hit him smack on the noggin, and now he has a bump.

My contractions are more frequent and more intense. They don’t hurt, but I know they’re the prelude to the ordeal I’m going to have to go through. Mother of God, what intense pain. I don’t even want to think about it!

I don’t follow the doctor’s diet nor her other instructions, and, on my next visit, the gynecologist reads me the riot act.

Why am I trying to deny it? It all goes in one ear and out the other. I’ve only gained twenty-six pounds in eight and a half months. My sister gained fifty-five. What’s there to complain about?

Eric looks at me while the gynecologist scolds me. I tell him to please keep quiet, and he prudently does not open his mouth. I’m aware that in these last months, I’ve become a tyrant, and the poor guy just silently endures.

Once more, when they do the ultrasound, Medusa plays hide and seek. This baby’s shy. Once we’re finished, the doctor gives me an appointment for the following week. I have to come back in for monitoring.

When we leave the doctor’s office, I call the painter who’s going to do Medusa’s room and tell him to do it in yellow.

Two days later, when the painter comes over to do the work I requested, I change my mind. Now I want him to paint two of the four walls in yellow, one in red, and one in blue.

A week later, Eric and I go to the hospital because I’m having contractions. He’s nervous and I’m hysterical. The nurse makes me lie down, places a wide belt over my belly, connects it to a monitor, and explains that they’re checking the parameters of the baby’s heart rate and contractions of the uterus, among other things.

I’m scared, but on hearing Medusa’s heart gallop, my fears evaporate. I’m awed! The nurse tells us everything is fine and that we should come back the following week.

When we leave the hospital, we’re both excited. Our relationship is a roller coaster these days. Couples are supposed to bond and love each other during pregnancy. In our case, we love each other, and Eric puts up with me. I’m aware I have become a fat viper and am weeping, bingeing, and short-tempered.

One night I can’t sleep. I look at the clock. It’s 3:28 in the morning, and I decide to get up. I’m tired of tossing and turning in bed, and the contractions make me uncomfortable, so it’s impossible to rest.

Quietly, I put on my robe, and, like a whale about to explode, tiptoe down the stairs. When Susto and Calamar see me, they come to greet me. Whatever, whenever, they’re always there to give you a little love. For several minutes, I dedicate myself to kissing them and paying attention to them, and when they’re exhausted, they go off to sleep, and I head to the kitchen.

I open the freezer. I stare at the ice cream, and, after deciding on the vanilla with macadamia nuts, I grab the pint and a spoon and sit down to savor it. I watch the darkness outside. I love ice cream. It’s great.

“What’s the matter, darling?”

The voice startles me, and, seeing it’s Eric, I put my hand over my pounding heart.

“Fuck, you scared me.”

“Are you OK, sweetheart?”

We look at each other, and I finally say, “The fucking contractions won’t let me sleep. But don’t worry. There’s nothing to be worried about.”

Eric nods and says nothing. He sits across from me at the table and tries to cheer me up.

“It’s almost over, beautiful. In about three weeks our baby will be here.”

I nod, but I’m scared. Labor is approaching and my anxiety is sky-high.

“I love you, darling,” he whispers.

I love him too, but instead of saying anything, I offer him a spoonful of ice cream.

“Listen, sweetheart, don’t get upset with me about what I’m going to tell you, but if you keep eating ice cream, when the doctor weighs you—”

“Shut up,” I say, cutting him off. “Don’t start.”

We’re silent while I continue to devour the ice cream. I’m a machine. Once I finish the pint, I get up and throw it away while Eric, with grim countenance and biting his tongue, watches.

“Happy now?”

I nod.

“Extremely happy.”

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