Everyday we go somewhere, even on the days I don't want to. Sometimes, on those days, Prince gives in, but he at least makes me get out into our backyard. He knows that I will automatically start pulling wayward weeds, or pruning back bushes and deadheading flowers. It's almost like when he sees a guitar or a piano, the need can't be resisted.
Ramiel's portable bassinet has paid for itself tenfold for as much as we've used it since bringing him home. He's content to lay under the protection of the screening, gazing and grunting at the small mobile we've placed above his head in there. Ramiel and I both benefit, and are soothed, by Prince's acoustic guitar playing on those days we spend in the backyard.
On this day, however, it's Ramiel's first wellness visit with the Naturopathic Pediatrician and I'm full of anxiety about bringing our newborn into a waiting room filled with possibly sick children. We vow to keep his carrier covered with a light blanket for some protection, and when we get there, we sit as far off to the side as we can while I fill out what feels like a mountain of paperwork. "I'm getting hand cramps," I joke at one point, Prince offers to take over, but I refuse. He's been so accommodating ever since the day we found out I was pregnant, let alone the fact that he's managed to step it up a notch to help me deal with the lingering threat of Postpartum Depression.
When our name is called, we bolt from our chairs, both reaching for the carrier at the same time. Prince swats my hand away playfully, proudly carrying Ramiel behind me as we're lead into the back and into an exam room. We had been instructed to bring a couple warm blankets for the visit and we assume it's because of the chilly, air conditioned office, but we soon find out that our baby is to be stripped naked for the physical part of the exam. I strip him down, but keep his diaper folded loosely in place, both Prince and I have learned quickly that once his privates are exposed to air, he tends to let his bladder loose. We laugh at each other when we see the other doing the 'peek-a-boo' diaper changes.
The visit is a long one and I start to feel emotionally drained about half way through, right about the time Ramiel starts to get fussy. The doctor completes the physical exam and quickly swaddles Ramiel in one of the blankets, handing him to me. Ramiel quiets, but starts bobbing his head along my collarbone, "You can feed him, now," the doctor says. I remove a breast and he latches like a trooper, the doctor nods, "Good appetite," we nod in agreement. "Now, let's talk about you," the doctor urges. I sigh but we fill him in on everything, how many people need to know I have the baby blues? I think to myself. He agrees with everything that Gretchen has suggested, and does a lot of note taking in our file. We discuss vaccines next, both the pros and the cons, and are told to try to have a written list of questions or concerns for the next visit. We glance at each other, now we have homework?
When we finally leave I'm agitated, "I thought all these doctor visits would decrease after Ramiel was born, but they've just doubled," I voice my discomfort to Prince. His pressed lips and quiet nod let me know he's feeling the same way, in just a few more weeks, I have to return to my obstetrician for an exam. With Ramiel's carrier locked back into the backseat, we climb into the front of the Bentley. I was surprised when Prince chose to drive it today, it's been pretty automatic anymore that we've been taking my Outback.
Prince takes my hand, "I don't like it either, Sugar, but pretty soon they'll be less," he kisses the back of my fingers.
"I know," I sigh as he puts the car into gear and drives towards the expressway.
We've just merged onto the expressway when my cell phone rings in my purse. I pull it out and see Kirk on the caller ID, so I hand it to Prince since the Bentley does not have Bluetooth. "Hey?" Prince answers.
I can hear Kirk from the loud volume on the phone, "Hey, P, were you stopping in today?"
Prince glances at me as I watch him from the passenger seat, "We were not. Why, something going on?"
I shrug and nod, indicating to him we have no reason we can't stop by, since we are halfway between Paisley and our house anyway. I hear Kirk's voice again, "It's nothing really pressing, just thought you would want to check it out."
"We'll be there in less than ten minutes, see you soon," the disconnect button is pressed and Prince hands me back the phone. When I frown a puzzled look at him he shrugs, "We'll see when we get there." Prince glances into the rear view mirror to look at the new mirror that has been installed in both cars now, allowing us to see Ramiel in his back facing carrier, he's sleeping peacefully. I turn in my seat when I see Prince smile his satisfied smile, and see our sleeping baby, I smile, too. No matter how many days pass, we never tire looking at him.
We arrive at Paisley, and Prince does what he does so often, I hardly think twice about it anymore, he parks the car right in front of the main vestibule. Instead of unlatching the carrier again, we just remove Ramiel, there always seems to be willing recipients to hold him here. As soon as we enter the door, Monica abandons her station to rush over with her arms extended first, Marcus spots her and also comes to greet the baby. As I gently transfer Ramiel into Monica's arms, his eyes open sleepily, taking in the somewhat familiar face, he doesn't fuss, but grunts as he shifts into a more comfortable position in her arms. Kirk walks up, but he too is distracted by the baby.
"I see how it is," Prince jests loudly, "Sugar, you see all this?" sweeping his arm in a wide arc.
I nod, laughing, "Yep, Prince who?"
Kirk looks up still wearing a goofy expression, and jokes back, "Oh, sorry, boss." They start to walk towards Prince's office, but Prince pauses before they round the corner, "Sugar?"
I realize he's waiting for me, and pull myself away from Marcus and Monica, who have now sat on a nearby sofa talking baby talk to Ramiel. Once I approach, Prince steers me with his hand on my low back toward his office, Kirk in tow. In Prince's office, today's newspaper lies folded open to an article in the center of his desk. Prince takes a seat, I sit across from him while Kirk stands, we wait for him to read the article. The paper gets dropped unceremoniously to the desk and Prince's jaw clenches, "She's at it again," he states.
"Yes, Sir," Kirk agrees solemnly.
Prince picks up the paper and offers it to me, it's not a long article, but it was born out of hatred and spite. Our recent Arboretum visit is documented, it states that we kept our child 'hidden from view' and 'all attempts to photograph the baby were thwarted by security.' Again the possibilities of birth defects is mentioned. I throw the paper down, "For the love of God," I huff, "This woman must not have children, you don't expose a newborn to full sun! Hello?!"
Prince twists his mouth, "Kirk, can we have a minute?"
"Sure," I catch the slight look of relief on his face as he leaves the office. Being in the same room with angry parents is not the best place to be.
"Prince, did you have a thing with this woman?" I ask.
He pulls his head back and contorts his face into a look of disgust, "Not a chance, Sugar."
"Hmmmm, well maybe she wanted one," I say, Prince shudders in response. "I don't understand why she continuously wants to dog you. Is this the same woman who sarcastically wrote about our marriage, 'third time's a charm?'"
He nods with knitted brows, "The one and the same," he mutters.
"You know what we need to do, like we did for our engagement and the wedding. Contact a journalist you trust, release a photo, and an announcement, thumb your nose at her again. It shut her up before," I suggest, "And it will prove her wrong on her assumptions."
He looks up at me, his face is serious, I know he doesn't want Ramiel exploited, but since we've been together, his formal announcements to the press have been well received. He taps his thumb against his lip, "I'll think about it."
He stands and comes around the desk, he takes my hand and leads me out of the office. We round the corner as Marcus is handing Ramiel to Kirk, I look at Prince and wink, they haven't even realized we've entered the atrium, "He's not a hot potato, people," I tease them loudly.
Kirk looks devastated, it's finally his turn to hold the baby and here we are. Prince looks at Kirk, "You got this?" When Kirk nods happily, Prince takes my arm and leads me down the hallway to Studio A, "I want you to hear something."
I'm brought in and sat down, then Prince places headphones over my ears. He flips a few switches and a sensual jazzy tune begins to play. I smile at him to let him know I like it, but my expression changes to surprise when a woman's full bodied voice begins to sing. Her voice combined with the music is perfect chemistry, I close my eyes and sway to the song.
While my eyes are closed, Prince removes the headphone jack and the room floods with the song. My eyes open as he lifts the headphones from my ears, and sets them aside. He extends his hand, "Let's dance, Sugar." As soon as I stand, I'm pulled in tight, we sway together until the song comes to an end. Prince takes that moment to gaze into my eyes before pulling me in for a passionate kiss, only to release me with a hushed, "We'd better get back."
We make our way back to the atrium hand in hand and Ramiel is returned to Prince. We say our goodbyes and get back out to the car to head home. Prince is quiet on the drive home, so I assume he's thinking about the article, this comes to light when we get back to the house. As I settle down on the sofa to nurse Ramiel, Prince disappears into his office for a few minutes. When he comes back to join me, he says gently, "I would like your input on a photo when you're done."
"Of course," I say nonchalantly, I'm happy he's contemplating what I suggested.
With Ramiel content in his bassinet we go into the office. The screen is full of photo thumbnails of Ramiel that we had taken. Our child is as photogenic as Prince is, there's not a bad shot in the bunch. "This one," I say as I click the image to enlarge it.
"You can see his butt," Prince frowns.
I laugh softly, "More like a hip. Prince, it's a baby, baby butts are cute!" I crane my head to look at Prince's behind, then back at him, "He has your butt."
Prince flashes me a sour look, but I can tell it's all in play. He studies the picture, "I'll think about it."
I kiss his cheek and leave the room, I already know he's going to go with my choice.