The Choices We Make

Chapter 7

“Have you thought of his name? What JD would mean?” she prompted, wincing at the effort to lie on her side so she could face him. 

He would have assisted her. But he also knew she’d only ask for help if she needed it. Which she already did. Earlier, she had asked the nursing aid to help secure the hooks of the binder she had bought in advance. Perhaps the thing was already doing its job because she wasn't cursing under her breath anymore in every move she made, unlike the other day. Or she had learned to tolerate the pain overnight. Or asking for his help went against every living cell of her body.

“I uh...since he’s part you and me...Jae Dion? Although it sounds more like a Canadian singer’s son. So maybe James Dean, Or Jonathan Drew, Jack Devyn…” he babbled.

“Jae Dion sounds perfect,” she said, beaming weakly at him, and he nodded, touched that she actually liked it. There was an awkward pause before she spoke again. “I feel bad about you spending your vacation this way—"

“Don’t,” he interrupted. “Don’t, Yanna. I’m glad to be here.”

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

There it was again. The doubt.

He understood where she was coming from. Neither of them had expected things to turn out the way they did. She must be feeling embarrassed. Or guilty. Which was totally understandable. But with the repeated apology from her DJ sometimes felt like she wasn't expecting him to follow through. Like what his father did, which she knew nothing about.

“I’m not saying this just to make you stop. But the reason why I accepted Kyle’s offer to house-sit was because…” he took a deep, steadying breath. “I meant to find you, fix whatever went wrong between us. Or if that wasn’t possible anymore, then closure. So I could move on.” 

She looked down on her hands and he knew she felt guilty. A part of him wanted to see her regret what she did but now, he didn’t care anymore. 

“This was far from what I had imagined. But I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said, hoping she’d believe him.

Yanna

When Yanna came to the next day, her memory was less hazy. And her body was less numb. Which meant she could feel the raw pain from her CS wound in every move she made, no matter how small. It took so much effort not to cry for help. 

She looked at little Jaydee, snug in her arms as he nursed. Like clockwork, DJ would automatically rise from the couch to bring the baby to her to breastfeed every two hours, or every time the baby would wail. 

However, she knew how her body changed drastically from the last time they were together. Though she was proud of her stripes—the stretch marks over her breasts, her thighs, she knew it wasn’t a pretty sight. She couldn’t help but feel self-conscious.

Moreover, the past days since meeting DJ again, she was nothing more than a civil host. An inconsiderate partner even. She knew that patience was one of DJ’s strengths, but she wouldn’t put it past him if soon, he’d finally give up on her. On them.

The baby unlatched just as DJ came back after another phone call which she assumed was from his work. It was as if the baby knew his daddy was back to attend to him next.

“It was Kyle,” he explained, as if feeling her low-key curiosity as she watched him enter the room. He looked fresh, having had a quick shower and she felt envious, wanting a bath for herself, too. “They’re arriving today and offered to pick us up. Hopefully, everything’s clear so we could be discharged tomorrow.”

“But I thought they’d be gone for two weeks?” 

DJ gave her a mild smile. “Rhea wanted to stay true to her promise, apparently. She already feels bad she wasn’t here on Jaydee’s birth”

Yanna’s eyes itched with the urge to cry and DJ took it as a cue to pick the baby up so he could burp and rock him to sleep. Thankfully, she had not eaten or drunk anything post-operation so her dehydrated body couldn’t produce water in any form.

It was one of the things she kept wondering about when she decided to go through Emergency C-Section. Her plans had to be drastically altered since the operation. How would her savings fare after the expenses had been tripled? How could she attend to her son when every little move felt like her lower belly had been sliced open anew? How would they go home? She didn’t have a car of her own, nor did DJ. 

Funny how true that a mother could decide to go for normal delivery beforehand. But it would be an entirely different story if the baby would decide otherwise. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, gently rocking the baby in his arms.

Pulling her hospital gown’s sleeve to wipe her dry eyes and nose just to be sure nothing leaked, she shook her head. “Just a bit emotional is all.”

“It’s okay to be emotional,” he urged. “I read somewhere it helps put the mommy blues at bay.”

She cracked another smile then because she had read the same too. 

A thought occurred to her. If she had agreed with his proposal to move with him to Tarlac, would the whole experience be different?

The question remained unanswered in her head when a nurse came in to check her vitals and the IV drip still attached to her right hand.

“How are you feeling today, Ma’am?” she asked while doing the routine check.

“Parched, starving, exhausted…” she enumerated.

“Are you already feeling the urge to take a dump, ma’am?” she asked with a smile.

Yanna blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“So you could have your first meal. We have to make sure every organ is functioning well and the way to know that is if you could successfully defecate.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” she muttered, in disbelief. She was able to hold back her tongue until the nurse had left. “I was just sliced open, and a baby was pulled out of my body. And now I have to worry about pooping?” 

DJ chuckled, placing the already sleeping Jaydee back to the cot, and he walked towards her bed. “I promise to order Jollibee Spaghetti and Chicken with peach mango pie as long as you’ve taken a dump.”

She scowled at him but was rewarded with another grin and a quick kiss to the forehead, warming her heart, telling her to stop over-analyzing things and allow things to take its natural course.