The Ex-Wife (21 page)

F
or the past few weeks I had been letting Tayshawn drop off and pick up Caron. It was burning Cam up from what I was told,
but I was honestly scared of him. I really didn’t know what to expect. He had been acting really flaky. I had the feeling
there was trouble in paradise, because he seemed to always be enraged for no reason. He probably realized that Ms. Ayana wasn’t
all she was cracked up to be. She was expected to have that baby any day now. When I first heard she was pregnant, I cried
because that meant we were likely done forever. But then I realized that people always love their firstborn more than anything
in the world.

As I dressed for court, I wondered why it had gotten to this point. Cam and I had been fine until he decided to go fall in
love with the wrong person. Although we weren’t a couple, we were cordial and this chick had ruined it all. I hoped she wouldn’t
be in court so I could get him alone and talk to him. He was a stranger to me, definitely not the same person I married. The
way he talked, the way he acted…everything about him was different. If he were as happy as he claimed to be, he wouldn’t look
so miserable each time I saw him.

When I showed up to court, I looked around and Cam wasn’t there. I wondered where he was and why he hadn’t shown. Finally,
he arrived looking like he hadn’t slept since the last time I saw him. He just didn’t look right. We had court orders to stay
away from each other, but I needed to talk to him. I needed to get to the bottom of what was going on with him.

When our case was called, Cam’s friend Morris stepped up as his attorney. The judge said the case had been dismissed because
the charges were dropped. He looked up at me. “Ms. Small, is that correct, you want to drop the charges?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Both Cam and his attorney looked at me suspiciously. The judge went on to say, “I hope that you are not in an abusive relationship
and dropping the charges because you two have made up. I can’t protect you if the situation flips for the worst.”

“Your Honor, I am not in an abusive relationship. I have been divorced from this man for over a year. He has never put his
hands on me. We had a misunderstanding and in that moment, I was afraid, but I do not fear for my life and I apologize for
involving the legal system.”

The judge nodded as he if appreciated my apology. He said, “Thank you, Ms. Small. Case dismissed.”

On the way out of the courtroom, I looked at Cam and I knew I had touched a soft spot with him. He gave me a nod, as if he
was proud. The same way he used to do when we were young and in love. I mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

He raised his thumb at me and I smiled. For the sake of Caron, I wanted us to start communicating again. I took responsibility
for ruining the relationship and I didn’t know how I was going to repair it but I was. It was all over the blogs how he was
arrested at their baby shower. I’d never wanted it to go down that way. In fact, I’d never really expected they would arrest
him at all.

Out in the hallway, he and Morris stood there talking and I kind of lingered around, hoping to speak with him. Morris stayed
by his side the entire time and they ended up leaving the courthouse together. I was a little sad because I wanted to say
something to him. I wanted to talk about how we would proceed and how we could fix our communication.

Two days later, I showed up to pick Caron up from the sheriff’s department. Cam looked shocked to see me when I stepped out
of the car. I waved at him, but he sent Caron across the parking lot alone. I looked at him and asked, “So when is the baby
coming?”

He got back in his car and didn’t respond. I felt rejected. It frustrated me that I had put myself out there and acknowledged
his new baby and he’d treated me like some trick off the street.

I wanted to run over and knock his windows out and ask him if he was hard of hearing. Instead I took long, deep breaths like
my therapist had suggested I do when I got angry. By the time Caron got in the car, Cam had peeled off. Caron shook his head.
I could tell that our lack of communication was taking a toll on him. He seemed to be getting angrier every week. Maybe it
was just a part of his growing up but there was something else going on with him. It could be the new baby that was making
him feel neglected. I couldn’t put my finger on it. No one in that house seemed happy. Maybe Ayana had them both in a trance.
Maybe that was a part of her psychotherapy.

Caron sat in the car and I asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. I don’t see why I can’t go to school at my old school next year.”

It was his last day of school and he was already thinking about the next school year. “But I thought you liked the new school.”

“I like my other school better. I don’t know why Dad and me can’t live in our old house. I don’t like Ayana’s house. I want
to go to school with my other friends.”

“That’s your dad’s and Ayana’s house.”

He snapped, “I don’t care whose house it is. I don’t want to be there.”

“I thought you told me that it was so big and you had your own arcade,” I said with a little exaggeration, as he had when
he’d told me about it.

He said, “I don’t care. I don’t want to be there anymore.”

“OK, Mommy is working on you moving back with me. Is that what you want?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t want to live with your dad anymore?”

“I do.”

I said, “So how are you going to live with me if you want to stay with your dad?”

“I want us all to live together.”

“What about Ayana?”

He hung his head, like he knew he was wrong. He said, “I don’t care.”

I wanted the same thing he wanted and neither of us had a clear plan to get there. The fact that Cam wasn’t even talking to
me meant that we had a long road ahead if we were going to get to our destination. I looked at Caron. “I’m going to do my
best.”

S
even days after my due date I was ready for the baby to drop. My doctor planned to induce me within the week, but he wanted
me to have a sonogram first just to check the baby’s size. He called us to come in the next day to discuss the sonogram charts.

When we sat down in his office, I felt a little nervous because he started talking like something was wrong. He said, “I had
every intention of inducing you on Friday and had no reason to think you couldn’t have the baby vaginally, but…”

There was a long pause and my mouth dried. Cam reached for my hand as if he could sense my fear.

“Your baby’s shoulders are disproportionate to his head.”

My eyes shifted from side to side. The doctor was talking about my son as if he were some kind of abnormal creature. “What
do you mean?”

“His shoulders are wider than his head.” He demonstrated with his hands spread far apart. “If his head comes out and we’re
unable to get the shoulders out, we may have to break his collar. If there is any nerve damage, it’s possible that arm will
not grow.”

Cam said, “So what are our options?”

“The safest option is a C-section.”

I’d been planning for the birth for so many weeks. I wanted to have the baby naturally and this was really blowing me. I said,
“So are you saying I
need
to have a C-section?”

The doctor clarified, “No, I’m not saying you need to have a C-section. The decision is ultimately up to you. I will tell
you this, if the head comes out and the shoulders get stuck, I will not break his collar, we will do an emergency C-section.”

I looked at Cam, unsure of what I wanted to do. Should we press our luck? The gamble was just too risky, it seemed.

The doctor said, “It looks like he’s around eight pounds, nine ounces. This is not completely accurate, give or take a pound.
Either way, he’s a big baby. If he were a little smaller, I would probably say we’d be OK, but with that size and the width
of his shoulders, I’m just not confident it would go smoothly.”

Cam interjected, “Doc, if it were your baby, what would you do?”

“C-section. No question about it.”

Cam looked at me. “That’s what it is. I don’t want to live with regrets.”

Still not completely convinced, I asked the doctor to explain again what we’d do if the baby got stuck. Cam looked at me confused,
as if I’d undermined his decision, but I needed to be clear. The doctor said, “I will not do any tugging and pulling. If the
baby doesn’t come out, we’ll do an emergency C-section.”

Cam looked at me and said, “Are you serious? You’re really not considering taking that route. Are you?”

“I’m just trying to understand everything.”

“What more is there to understand than it may be dangerous to have the baby vaginally?”

“What if everything is fine?” I asked.

“Optimism is good in some cases, but not this one.”

Wondering if I should just accept what was being handed to me, I covered my face and took a deep breath. It was a little too
late for a second opinion. So I agreed to a C-section. We were scheduled for two days later.

I checked into the hospital at six in the morning. Cam carried the baby bag. My mother and Aaliyah met us there. They put
me in a pre-op room that seemed too small for me and my three people. It was like the projects of labor and delivery. The
nurse hooked me up to the IV. The anesthesiologist came in to discuss the procedure and had me sign the releases.

Shortly after eight in the morning my doctor showed up. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as we’re going to be.”

Close to nine they rolled me into the operating room. I was only allowed to have one person with me, but because my doctor
had delivered Aaliyah’s kids, he said she could come in also. I was grateful he allowed that since I was missing out on the
rest of my family being there to experience labor with me.

The anesthesiologist put the needle in my spine and within minutes, I was numb from the neck down. The doctor then began the
procedure. Cam was videotaping, and once the doctor cut me, the nurse instructed Cam to only shoot from the chest up. That
was a little scary. What were they doing down there that they didn’t want on camera?

Suddenly I felt a tugging. I couldn’t actually feel the pain. But it was like someone was pulling on my body. The doctor said,
“Wow, he’s really high up there.” Speaking to me, he said, “Ayana, he’s coming.”

The baby came out with a little mousy cry. It was almost as if he were struggling. Aaliyah said, “He’s here, Ayana.”

The nurses took the baby to clean him up and the doctor continued to put me back in place. As I lay there, I felt nauseous.
I couldn’t sit up and vomit. I was scared that I was going to throw up and choke. What if I died on this table? The anesthesiologist
must have recognized the struggle in my eyes. He said, “Are you OK?”

“I feel like I have to throw up.”

He lifted my neck up and rubbed my hair. He was so gentle. I could hear Aaliyah and Cam adoring the baby. I was anxious to
see him too. The nausea went away almost as suddenly as it had come. Minutes later the doctor was done patching me up and
the nurse brought the baby over to lie on my chest. It was love at first sight. I kissed his head over and over again as they
rolled me into the recovery room.

My mother came in shortly after we got there. My little Ethan lay calmly on my chest, as if he knew I was his mommy. The nurse
picked him up and listened to his breathing. Her frown let me know something was wrong. She told me to let him lie on my skin
to see if his breathing would catch the rhythm of mine. She explained that when a baby doesn’t come through the birth canal,
he often doesn’t get prepared to take that first breath.

After a few minutes of his lying on my chest, she checked again. His breathing was still too fast. She sent him to the Neonatal
Intensive Care Unit to be safe. Why did I have to part with my son so soon? My mother and Cam were able to go up to the NICU
with the nurse. Aaliyah stayed with me while we waited to get a room on the labor and delivery floor. Another nurse came to
let me know that Ethan was doing fine and he’d be coming to the room shortly after I got there.

An hour or so had passed when the nurse came in to tell me that Ethan’s breathing was still too fast and he’d be spending
at least one night in the NICU. Cam had been back and forth and I was jealous. The nurses didn’t want me to ride in a wheelchair
so soon. They suggested that in a few hours I would be able to visit. When my friends came, Cam took them up to see the baby.

My mother left to pick up Cam’s mother. There were so many people there but they kept leaving to see the baby. I felt alone.
I knew it was for his safety, but I didn’t want him upstairs in the intensive care unit.

At close to midnight, the nurse on duty asked if I had been up to see the baby. She got a wheelchair and called up to let
the nurses know we were coming. I woke Cameron up so he could tag along. When walking into the unit, we had to wash our hands
and present identification. No one was getting in who didn’t belong.

Ethan was in a little subunit where the bigger babies were, but on our way to him, we passed itsy teeny little babies. Some
you could tell were as small as two pounds, with tubes and monitors all over them. That made me sad as I imagined what their
parents were going through.

When I rolled up to Ethan’s little plastic crib, they told me it was time for him to eat. They had been feeding him by bottle
but the nurse asked if I would be breastfeeding. Since that was my plan, she suggested we try it now. She picked him up to
wake him and he squirmed a little and began to cry. After changing his diaper, she handed him to me.

I had taken a breastfeeding one-day course so I was familiar with all the tricks they used to help the babies latch on. It
was foreign to me but the nurse instructed me in how to hold him and position myself while simultaneously opening his mouth.
Mr. Ethan latched on right away and sucked for dear life. Cam laughed. “Go ahead, man. Tell Mommy you missed her.”

This was the first time that I’d really gotten to look at him. He was so precious and calm. He clung to me. His eyes began
to close and the nurse suggested that I move him to my other side. It had been challenging even in my class to try to feed
with the left breast, but just as the instructor had, the nurse said I shouldn’t get too comfortable with one breast, because
when he really started eating I wouldn’t be able to produce enough milk from just one.

After he ate, Cam sat down in the rocking chair beside me and held my hand as I held Ethan. Ethan was wearing a cute little
undershirt that read
ADORABLE
. That was an understatement. I asked the nurse where his Onesie had come from. She told me the hospital had tons, that some
were donated and some were left, and that they were kept clean for all the babies coming in and out. I looked in Ethan’s crib
and noticed a white Beanie Baby. “Do they all get these?” I asked, reaching to pull it out.

The nurse said, “Hmmm, I didn’t notice that. One of your family members must have put it in there with him.”

I looked at the card tied around the little bear’s neck:
ROCK-A-BYE BABY
. My mouth hung open and I took long, slow, deep breaths as I passed the opened card to Cam. I was angry and I snapped at
the nurse, “Is there someone here monitoring who comes in and out all day?”

The nurse adamantly said, “Yes. No one’s getting in here without identification or one of the parents.”

Cam said, “Well, some unauthorized person obviously came to see our baby and we have proof.”

“What kind of proof do you have?” she asked.

We ended up telling her that Cam’s ex-wife had been harassing us and had made a statement or two in the past similar to what
was written on the card. The people who had visited that day knew that
ROCK-A-BYE BABY
was a touchy subject. None of them would have put that on the card.

The nurse went to the front desk to get the visitor log for us and there were no random names listed as visitors for Ethan.
She then called security to discuss the issue. They asked if Cam was willing to look at the footage to see if we recognized
anyone. Cam agreed and I stayed with the baby. I didn’t want to leave Ethan’s side. If that meant I had to sleep in a damn
wheelchair all day, that’s what I’d do to protect him. This whole experience had let me know that anyone can get to you if
they are really determined to. It was frightening. As I sat there with Ethan on my lap, I was really rethinking the whole
idea of being in the public eye. I just wanted to be a good mother and a good wife in peace. Everything else could fall by
the wayside at this point.

Cam returned with no resolution. Cam looked at me and said the unthinkable: “Could it be someone we’re close to?”

I shook my head. “I know my family and my friends. They would never, ever do anything to hurt me.”

I could see that Cam doubted that in that moment, but I knew it had to be his ex-wife. She was the only person who wanted
us to fail. She was the only person threatening the life of our child. The legal system was bullshit. A restraining order
was senseless when you ordered a crazy person to stay away. The law doesn’t mean shit to a person determined to make your
life miserable.

Cam did not leave the NICU for the next twenty-four hours, until they finally brought Ethan down to stay in the room with
us. We were there three more days, and I was so happy to be going home I didn’t know what to do, but I felt safe because there
would be no intruders in my home.