1. Labor Pains

Answer the phone, Rick. Answer the phone, Rick. Answer the phone, Rick.

I rubbed my protruding stomach and closely watched Glenn as he held his phone to his ear.

No one would ever accuse me, Michonne Danvers, of being a whimsical, pie-in-the-sky, wishful thinker. Logic, reason, evidence and facts were the pillars of both my personal and professional existence. My mantra was Analyze, Strategize, and Attack.

But under the influence of pregnancy hormones, I threw my principles out the window and tried my hardest to mentally will Rick Grimes to answer his phone.

Answer the phone, Rick. Answer the phone, Rick. Answer the phone, Rick.

I continued to watch Glenn for any indication that Rick had answered.

Within seconds, I knew.

It was almost imperceptible, but once I saw the crease between Glenn's eyebrows I realized that Rick was not on the other end.

"Voicemail," Glenn said with a slight shake of his head as he ended the call.

We must have called at least 20 times in the last hour and left half as many messages. I wouldn't allow myself to linger on the thought, but something had to be catastrophically wrong to have not heard from him by now.

Rick and I had known each other since we were six years old, and I couldn't recall a time when he wasn't present when something momentous happened. With today shaping up to be one of the most important days of his life—one of the most important days of both of our lives really, his absence was both alarming and distressing.

But as I felt another contraction coming, my concern turned to agitation.

I didn't sign up to have this baby alone. One of the terms we agreed upon more than a year ago specified that the Grimes' were to be present through my labor. Our agreement was being violated.

I was now tremendously pleased that my water broke on Rick and Lori's brand new vintage Victorian-style couch.

"Who gets a $4,000 couch when they're about to have a baby anyways?!" I wondered out loud.

In Rick's defense, the couch was all Lori. He was completely surprised when it was delivered, but since it made Lori happy he didn't complain.

"It's not even a comfortable couch. And it's hideous," I added.

Glenn, who had been by my side since my water broke, was too busy pacing to comment. My unexpected birth partner witnessed my water break almost immediately after he delivered my thin crust, white sauce, pineapple, jalapeño, and spicy sausage pizza. To his credit, he finally stopped looking so bewildered by what was happening and by the random things that came out of my mouth.

Glenn owned Mama Mia Pizza-Rhee-a!, and when I requested an off-the-menu pizza, he not only told me that he'd make it, but he guaranteed that he'd personally deliver it in less than 20 minutes. Music to a pregnant lady's ears.

Although I suspected he would never look at me the same after witnessing my water breaking, I was beyond grateful that Glenn was still here. I also hoped this wouldn't affect my pizza privileges in the future.

"Try calling again?" I asked him as I mentally prepared for the next contraction.

Glenn nodded. "Of course, Michonne."

I prided myself on always having my shit together. Cool, calm and collected was my thing. But my shit was very, very close to being lost.

"Put it on speaker," I groaned as the contraction hit.

The sound of Rick's ringing phone filled the room until we heard his voice.

"Hey, this is Rick. Leave a message."

"Rick, this is Gl-"

"Richard Arthur Grimes," I interrupted. "... hee hee hoo... get your ass... hee hee hoo... to the hospital... hee hee hoo... NOW!"

"What she said," Glenn said. "Uh, this is Glenn... Rhee... from Mama Mia's Pizza-Rhee-a!," he added before ending the call.

"...hee hee hoo... " I continued to breath out, trying not to let the pain or the panic break me.

Glenn gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze just as Daryl rushed into the hospital room. His normally stoic face was somewhat panic-stricken.

He was not helping my cause.

"What?!" Glenn and I demanded at the same time.

"It's Lori," he said. "She's missin'."

"What do you mean she's missing?" Glenn asked.

"She's just gone. Clothes are gone. Car is gone. Not answerin' her phone," he shrugged. "Rick's out lookin' for her."

"...hee hee hoo... This can not be happening," I said to no one in particular.

Daryl grunted in agreement as he bit his nails.

After spending what felt like an eternity breathing through the contraction, it mercifully came to an end. I composed myself before looking at Daryl and pointing to my purse.

"Would you bring me my phone?" I asked him.

Once I had it, I scrolled through my contacts until I found Lori. I didn't expect to get ahold of her, but I felt obligated to try.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Daryl asked.

"She needs to be here," I said. "She probably won't answer if Glenn calls because she won't recognize the number. She's definitely not answering if you call because she will recognize the number. I have the best odds of reaching her."

"Barely," Daryl smirked.

"Better than a definitely not," I retorted as I called Rick's wife.

Surprisingly, she answered after the first ring.

"Lori, are you there?" I asked as calmly as possible, as if her child was not actively trying to escape from my body, as if she wasn't the reason why Rick was probably running around town out of his mind.

My question was met with silence.

"Lori, I need you to come to the hospital. Your baby, your son, he's coming."

I heard what sounded like a sniffle.

"Lori!" I snapped, losing patience. I honestly didn't know how much time I had before the next contraction, and I wasn't planning on spending all of it coddling Lori.

"I'm sorry, Michonne. I... I can't," she whimpered.

"You can't what?!" I asked sharply, protectively holding my stomach.

When silence was once again her response, I sighed in exasperation.

Lori had never been my favorite person.

I didn't particularly care for her when we met in high school, and that sentiment had not shifted much twenty years later. She and Rick both knew that I'd witnessed too many tantrums, over-the-top outbursts, and attention-seeking spectacles from her to want to be anything more than cordial.

And I was only willing to be cordial because of how dearly I valued my friendship with Rick. She wasn't my cup of tea, but she sure was Rick's. I respected that.

When Rick announced his and Lori's plans to start a family a few years ago, I was excited for the couple. I looked forward to meeting the miniature blue-eyed, brown-haired people that they created. But after a year or so of trying to conceive, Rick confided in me about their fertility issues.

I shared in their heartache over Lori's inability to carry a child. I cried with Rick and grieved for Lori until the sadness eventually stopped weighing us all down.

When they both asked me to consider being their surrogate, I wholeheartedly agreed to do so. Genetically, the baby would be theirs; I would just serve as the oven the bun cooked in.

Lori wasn't thrilled when I drafted a surrogacy agreement, and to a lesser extent neither was Rick. She felt that I was turning something heartfelt and emotional into an impersonal business transaction. But my legal experience had taught me that having an agreement in place was an absolute necessity when it came to an exchange of services. If there wasn't a definitive, clear-cut plan established, the most heartfelt intentions could implode and leave all involved parties feeling victimized.

I wasn't requesting anything extravagant or out of the norm, I just wanted certain details ironed out. Rick and Lori ultimately signed the agreement, but not without adding a stipulation of their own: I was to move into their home for the duration of my pregnancy once I hit the six-month mark.

I thought there was a possibility of Lori and I moving from friendly enough to friends after the pregnancy was confirmed. That hope died once the first trimester ended and she started passively aggressively complaining about my work schedule—which she deemed was too demanding, my diet—which she deemed was too spicy, and my shoes—which she deemed were too dangerous.

Rick, ever the peacemaker, asked me to look at things from her perspective. I wouldn't budge from my perspective though. My job, my food, and my heels were off limits. Those things became points of contention, and the last few months of the pregnancy were tense between me and Lori.

But as I sat on the phone with her, I couldn't deny that I genuinely wanted Lori to be here. As annoying as she was, and she was hands down the most annoying person I'd ever met, I only imagined this moment with her here. This moment wasn't mine to experience alone, nor was it mine to experience just with Rick.

I cursed my hormones as I became teary-eyed.

"Just come to the hospital," I said softly. "Whatever you're going through, it's ok. We'll deal with it. Together. Please just come. We need you here."

I waited for her to reply.

"Lori?" I asked when she didn't say anything. "Lori?!"

I pulled my phone from my ear and looked at the screen. She had ended the call.

As the panic that I had been trying so desperately to suppress finally surfaced, I hurled the phone across the room and screamed. I had officially lost my shit, and I would never forgive Lori Grimes for making me lose it.

I looked up to see matching expressions of shock on Glenn and Daryl's faces.

"No one finds out about this," I warned them both.

Losing my cool in general was a rarity, but to lose it in the fashion that I just had, in front of people that I respected, was humiliating.

Fucking Lori Grimes.

"Glenn, keep trying to reach Rick," I ordered, looking straight ahead at the wall in front of me. "Daryl, bring me some ice."

Since the breathing exercises seemed to work for the contractions, I started doing them to help calm my shot nerves. Glenn got comfortable in the chair near the bed, but I felt Daryl's stare.

"I'm good, D," I said, still looking at the wall.

When he didn't move, I turned my head to look at the man who Rick and I had also known since we were six years old.

He stared at me for a beat before saying with a straight face, "Bitches be crazy, huh?"

Daryl had a knack for saying the most inappropriate things at the most inappropriate times, but in this instance I couldn't have appreciated his inappropriateness more. Those four words made me want to throw my head back and laugh and to break down and cry at the same time.

Damn hormones.

I settled on giving him an exaggerated eye roll.

I glanced at Glenn. The bewildered look returned to his face as he listened to our exchange. I really, really hoped this wouldn't affect my pizza privileges.

"Go get my ice, Daryl," I said.

"Yep," he replied, still not moving.

There was an unspoken question that he was asking, and he wasn't going anywhere until I answered it.

"I'm good," I promised, looking directly into his eyes.

Satisfied, he left the room in search of ice.

I found a spot on the wall to stare at and resumed my breathing exercises.

Lori was running, Rick was blindly chasing after her, and this baby was coming.

It was going to be a long night.


I was restless. My body was exhausted, but my mind refused to let me sleep. My guess was that it was some time after 3AM.

There wasn't a lot I could do this early in the morning—not that I was at all interested in doing anything requiring me to leave my hospital bed, so I did what helped ground me hours ago. I stared at a spot on the wall.

Dr. Cloyd, my OB/GYN, said that I'd had a fast and easy labor and delivery. Likely story from someone who showed up 15 minutes before the baby came out. Fast is not at all how I would describe the experience of pushing a 7-pound, 4-ounce person from my body, and easy is not how I would describe the experience without Rick and Lori being there.

But the little guy was worth it. Since neither of his parents was there to do it, I was the first person to properly welcome him to the world. My arms were the first to cradle him, my lips were the first to kiss him, my voice was the first to tell him that he was loved.

He was a little nugget of joy in the midst of a very tumultuous situation. He left an immediate imprint on my heart.

I contemplated whether the past 24 hours had been the best worst day, the worst best day, or just a crazy, crazy day. Normally, Rick and Daryl were my sounding boards for this type of deliberation, but since Rick was still who-knows-where and Daryl was on my Lori List, I'd have to ponder on my own.

Then again, giving birth truly was exhausting. My body was telling me that I'd need to ponder at another time.

I sighed and let my mind wander to simpler things... like the thin crust, white sauce, pineapple, jalapeño, and spicy sausage pizza that I never got to taste.

"Hey," a familiar voice whispered, startling me from my thoughts.

My eyes shifted until they landed on Rick. He sat in the chair near the window, illuminated by the soft light peeking through the blinds. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him holding his son.

I don't know if it was still the hormones or if it was the experience itself, but I was back to wanting to laugh and to cry again. I'd never been so happy to see Rick while also being so furious with him.

"Hey yourself," I croaked unpleasantly.

He looked up at me with a half smile before looking back down at his son in absolute adoration, and that's all it took for my irritation to melt away.

My curiosity begged me to ask Rick question after question about what happened and what was going on, but it wasn't the time. Instead, my attention was drawn to a congratulatory balloon, a Big Kat candy bouquet, and a 2-liter bottle of Dr Pepper. I immediately grabbed the Dr Pepper.

Hello, caffeine!

"In case you didn't know," I whispered after gulping down almost half of the soda, "the little nugget in your arms is Carl Glendrick Grimes, born at 12:07am."

The warmth from the smile on Rick's face wrapped around me and lulled me to a place of comfort I'd been seeking since my water broke. I curled up to my 2-liter bottle and continued to watch father and son as my eyelids grew heavy. This was infinitely better than staring at the wall.


"Michonne," I heard Rick whisper.

His voice almost pulled me from my slumbering state, but I felt myself weightlessly drifting back to it.

"Michonne," he whispered again.

I slowly opened my eyes to find Rick standing by the side of the bed.

"Hey," I whispered.

"Hey yourself," he said with a smile as he took the Dr Pepper from me and placed it on the rolling tray next to the bed. "Move over," he whispered.

"Where's Carl?" I asked after yawning and stretching.

Rick nodded his head towards the bassinet. "Sleepin'."

"He looks just like you, Rick."

We looked at each other and grinned. Rick Grimes, once a dirty little boy who chased me around and threw frogs and sticks at me, was a daddy now.

"Michonne, move over," he said in a slightly louder but still hushed voice.

The smile fell from my face. I was ecstatic that he was here, but Rick could be overbearingly bossy at times. Only he would have the nerve to wake me up to make me share my hospital bed after I had given birth.

I turned onto my side to give him space, but not before frowning at him and dramatically sighing.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he muttered as he climbed in and laid on his side to face me. Once he saw the look on my face, he squinted at me.

"Really, Michonne? It's not even your bed."

"Shoes," I ordered.

With a slight eye roll and a smile, he kicked his shoes off.

"You're so bossy," he smirked.

Before I could respond, he grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you."

It was my turn to roll my eyes. There really was no need for thanks. I wasn't comfortable labeling Rick as my best friend because he was married. If anyone was his best friend, it was his wife. But I couldn't deny our nearly thirty years of history together, so I claimed him as my officially unofficial best friend instead. And what was surrogacy between officially unofficial best friends?

"Don't do that," Rick admonished. "What we asked of you? It was a lot. I doubt most people would do it, but you did. Thank you."

There were so many emotions battling in those blue eyes of his. I could see the gratitude for me, the love and joy for Carl, the distress and heartbreak over Lori. As nerve-wracking as the experience had been for me, I knew it didn't compare to what Rick had gone through. He had simultaneously gained a son and lost a wife.

Best worst day. Worst best day. Crazy, crazy day. We'd have to figure that one out at some point.

"My phone is destroyed," I pouted.

He smiled and playfully kicked my feet. "I heard. I'll get you a new phone."

"A fancy new phone, Rick. All the bells and whistles," I clarified.

Rick had a cheap streak, and I wasn't about to have my Samsung Galaxy S7 replaced with some basic flip phone from the early 2000s.

"The fanciest," he agreed as his eyes closed.

"And my vagina?" I asked, causing his eyes to pop open. "I'm pretty sure it's destroyed too."

He scoffed when he realized I was serious.

"I've known you for how long, Mich? We both know that thang already had quite a few miles on it."

"Your point?" I asked.

"My point is, I seriously doubt that my 7-pound son caused any damage to what was probably already dinged up and dented."

"Seven pounds and four ounces," I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

He chuckled before leaning over and kissing my forehead.

"Ah, my apologies," he said. "I didn't account for those four ounces. Whatever I can do to get your vagina back in workin' order, I'll do it."

Rick had jokes, but I was truly concerned about the condition of my girl. Daryl and Glenn had both stayed with me through the birth, and while Glenn refused to do anything but hold my hand, Daryl was fine with getting up close and personal. "Damn, 'Chonne! I've never seen a hole that big!" he said laughing in disbelief. Even Dr. Cloyd's jaw dropped at that. She promptly requested that he leave.

I grimaced at the memory before returning my focus to Rick, who looked as if he was quickly giving in to sleep. I hated to bring her up, but the topic of his wife couldn't be avoided completely.

"Lori?" I questioned.

His body tensed and a shade of crimson quickly colored his face. When he finally looked at me, he did so with eyes brimming with remorse, shame, and tears.

"I would never have asked... It wasn't supposed to be... If I'd known that she..." he trailed off, unable to find the words to express himself.

"Stop," I replied. "I don't regret it, Rick. I'm glad I could do this for you, for Carl. I don't regret it."

He released a small sigh of relief when he saw that truth reflecting in my eyes.

"She's gone then?" I asked.

He stared at me for a long moment before answering.

"She left a letter," he said quietly.

I wondered if she had written more than "I can't" in the letter.

"How do I do this alone?" he asked.

"You're not alone," I quickly reassured him, cupping his face and wiping away tears. "You know you have Daryl and me. And it will be impossible to keep Glenn away."

I could see him getting lost in the thoughts running through his mind. I doubted that he'd even heard what I'd said.

"You have all of us," I reiterated firmly, needing him to understand that we would not let him fall. "I'm sorry she's gone, Rick. I really am. But we got this."

As he let out a slow and painful breath and new tears began to fall, I pulled him close. I held him tight as he quietly sobbed.

"We got this, Rick. I got you. Always."