1. Labor Pains
Answer the phone, Rick. Answer the phone, Rick. Answer the phone, Rick.
I rubbed my protruding stomach and closely watched my pizza delivery guy Glenn, who was holding his phone to his ear and waiting for Rick to answer.
Answer the phone, Rick. Answer the phone, Rick. Answer the phone, Rick.
No one would ever accuse me, Michonne Danvers, of being a whimsical, pie-in-the-sky, wishful thinker. Logic and reason were the driving forces behind my decision-making. I lived by the mantra Analyze, Strategize, Attack! But under the influence of pregnancy hormones, I'd thrown my principles out the window and was trying my hardest to mentally will Rick Grimes to answer his phone.
Answer the phone, Rick. Answer the phone, Rick. Answer the phone, Rick.
I studied Glenn's face closely, watching for a sign that Rick had finally answered his phone. When an almost imperceptible crease formed between his eyebrows, I knew he got voicemail.
"Voicemail," Glenn confirmed with a slight shake of his head as he ended the call.
We must've called Rick at least twenty times in the last hour and left almost as many messages. I wouldn't allow myself to linger on the thought that something was wrong, but something had to be catastrophically wrong. Rick and I had known each other since we were six years old, and I couldn't recall a time when we weren't with each other when something momentous happened. With today shaping up to be the most important day of his life—the most important day of both of our lives, his absence was alarming.
I felt another contraction building, and my concern for Rick quickly turned to agitation. I didn't sign up to have this baby alone! One of the terms of this arrangement was that the Grimeses were to be present through my labor. Rick and Lori were violating our agreement.
As the contraction gained momentum, I kept my breathing steady, continued to rub my stomach, and focused on how tremendously pleased I was that my water had broken on Rick and Lori's brand new Victorian-style couch.
"Who spends $4,000 on a couch when they're about to have a baby?!" I wondered out loud.
In Rick's defense, the couch was all Lori's doing. He was completely surprised when he came home and saw it in the living room, but since it made Lori happy, he didn't complain.
"It's not even a comfortable couch!" I complained. "And it's hideous. It's hideous, and it clashes with everything!"
Glenn, who'd been by my side since my water broke, was too busy pacing to comment on anything I was saying. I didn't hold it against him. I thought he was doing a commendable job as my default birth partner.
Glenn owned Mama Mia Pizza-Rhee-a!, my favorite pizza place in King County. When a desperate craving for a thin crust, white sauce, pineapple, jalapeño, and spicy sausage pizza hit earlier, I called in an order. Glenn promised to make and personally deliver my pizza in less than half an hour. That was music to a pregnant lady's ears! Unfortunately for Glenn, my water broke about thirty seconds after he knocked on the front door.
I suspected Glenn would never look at me in the same way after today, but I was beyond grateful that he was still here. I only hoped everything he was witnessing wouldn't affect my pizza privileges in the future.
"Try calling again?" I asked him before my contraction took center stage.
Glenn nodded emphatically and redialed Rick's number. "Of course."
I truly prided myself on always having my shit together. Cool, calm, and collected was my thing. But my shit was dangerously close to being lost.
"Put it on speaker," I groaned as the contraction hit.
The sound of Rick's phone ringing filled the room until we heard his voice. "Hey, this is Rick. Leave a message."
"Rick, this is Gl—"
"Richard Arthur Grimes!" I shouted. "... hee hee hoo... Get your ass... hee hee hoo... to the hospital... hee hee hoo... NOW!"
"Uh, what she said. This is Glenn... Rhee... from Mama Mia Pizza-Rhee-a!," he added before ending the call.
"...hee hee hoo... hee hee hoo... hee hee hoo," I continued to breath out, trying not to let the pain or my panic break me.
Glenn was giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze when Daryl rushed into my hospital room with a panic-stricken look on his normally stoic face.
He was not helping the 'don't lose my shit' cause.
"What?!" Glenn and I asked in exasperated unison.
"It's Lori," Daryl said slowly. "She's missin'."
"What do you mean she's missing?" Glenn asked with a bewildered look on his face.
"She's just gone. Clothes are gone. Car is gone. She's not answerin' her phone." He shrugged. "Rick's out lookin' for her."
"...hee hee hoo... This... hee hee hoo... cannot… hee hee hoo… be… hee hee hoo… happening!"
Daryl grunted in agreement while he chewed on his thumbnail.
When the contraction was done wreaking the worst kind of havoc on my body, I looked at Daryl and pointed to my purse on one of the chairs across from the bed.
"Phone," I instructed.
Once my phone was in hand, I scrolled through my contacts to find Lori's number.
"You sure that's a good idea?" Daryl asked.
"She needs to be here, D. She probably won't answer if Glenn calls because she won't recognize his number. She's definitely not answering if you call because she will recognize the number. I have the best chance of reaching her."
Daryl smirked. "The best slim chance."
"Still better than no chance at all," I retorted as I called Rick's wife.
Surprisingly, she answered after the first ring.
"Lori, are you there?" I calmly asked, 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."
She responded with a sniffle.
"Lori!" I snapped, losing patience.
I 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 frustration.
Lori Grimes had never been my favorite person. I didn't care for her when we met in high school, and that sentiment hadn't shifted much twenty years later. I'd witnessed too many tantrums, over-the-top outbursts and attention-seeking spectacles to be anything more than cordial with her. I was only able 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.
A few years ago, when he announced his and Lori's plans to start a family, I was truly excited for the couple. I looked forward to meeting Rick's blue-eyed, curly-haired, carbon copies, but after a year or so of trying to conceive, Rick confided in me about their struggle. A series of fertility tests showed that Lori wasn't able to carry a child.
I shared in Rick and Lori's heartache. I cried with Rick, who so desperately wanted to be a father, and I empathized with Lori when her sadness weighed her down. Eventually, the two were able to move past their disappointment and started exploring options that would allow them to become parents. I'd researched their options as well, so I wasn't surprised when they asked me to consider being their surrogate. I knew how much they wanted to be parents and wholeheartedly agreed to carry their child. Genetically, the baby would be theirs. I would just serve as the oven the bun cooked in.
As a contract law attorney, I understood the absolute necessity of having a surrogacy agreement in place before we moved forward. Lori, however, was far from supportive when I drafted the agreement. She felt that I was turning something heartfelt into an impersonal business transaction. I could see how an agreement could make it seem that way, but I also knew if there wasn't a definitive, clear-cut plan established, the most heartfelt intentions could implode and leave all involved parties feeling wronged in some way. I wasn't requesting anything extravagant or out of the norm, I just needed 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.
After the pregnancy was confirmed, there was a brief period of time when I thought Lori and I could move from friendly enough to friends. That idea went up in smoke once the first trimester ended and she started passively aggressively complaining about my work schedule—which she deemed too demanding, my diet—which she deemed too spicy, and my shoes—which she deemed too unsafe. Rick, ever the peacemaker, asked me to look at things from Lori's perspective. I did, and I refused to budge from mine. My job, my food and my heels were off limits. Those things became points of contention, making the last few months of the pregnancy unbearably tense between me and Lori.
But as I listened to her sniffling on the phone, I couldn't deny that I genuinely wanted her to by my side right now. 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 was our moment: hers, Rick's, and mine. She needed to be here.
I became teary-eyed and silently cursed my hormones.
"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 all need you."
I sniffled and waited for her response, hoping that what I'd just said meant something to her.
"Lori?" I asked when she didn't say anything.
I gently rubbed my stomach and sniffled again.
"Lori?"
The silence was agonizing, but it also sounded different. I pulled my phone from my ear and looked at the screen.
She'd already ended the call.
As the panic I was struggling to suppress erupted, I hurled my 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 expressions of shock on both Glenn and Daryl's faces.
"No one finds out about that," I warned them both.
Losing my cool was a rarity nowadays, and to lose it in that fashion was mortifying.
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 made himself comfortable in the chair next to the bed and called Rick again, 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 I'd known just as long as I'd known Rick. 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. In this instance, I couldn't have appreciated his inappropriateness more. Those four words made me want to throw my head back and laugh as well as break down and cry.
Damn hormones.
I settled on giving Daryl an exaggerated eye roll.
When I glanced at Glenn, his eyes darted from me to Daryl with that bewildered look on his face again. I really, really hoped this wouldn't affect my pizza privileges.
"Daryl, go get my ice."
"Yep," he replied without moving.
I looked at him and saw the unspoken question in his eyes. He wouldn't be going anywhere until I answered it.
"I'm good," I promised.
He stared at me a beat. Satisfied with what he saw, 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 on his way.
It was going to be a long night.
I was exhausted.
I was also wide awake.
It was after 3AM, but my mind refused to shut down and let me sleep for more than thirty minutes at a time. There wasn't a lot I could do this early in the morning—not that I was 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.
It was surreal knowing that I'd brought a life into the world today. Dr. Cloyd, my OB/GYN, said I had a fast and easy labor and delivery. Likely story from someone who showed up fifteen minutes before the baby came out. Fast isn't how I would describe the experience of pushing a 7-pound, 4-ounce person from my body. Easy isn't how I would describe going through childbirth without Rick and Lori. 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 disconcerting situation, and he'd already left a permanent imprint on my heart.
I contemplated whether the past twenty-four hours had been the best worst day, the worst best day, or just a crazy, crazy day. Rick and Daryl were normally 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. 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 eat.
"Hey," a familiar voice whispered, startling me from my thoughts.
Rick!
Rick was sitting in a chair near the window and was illuminated by the soft light peeking through the blinds. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him holding his newborn son.
"Hey," I quietly croaked, torn between being gratified by and being infuriated by the sight of him.
He gave me a half-smile before looking down at the bundle in his arms. The absolute adoration on Rick's face was all it took for my irritation to melt away. My curiosity begged me to ask him question after question about what happened and what was going on, but it wasn't the time. He deserved his moment with his son. Plus, my attention was drawn to a Congratulations balloon bouquet, a basket full of Big Kat bars, and a two-liter bottle of Dr Pepper. I grabbed the Dr Pepper.
Hello, caffeine!
"In case you didn't know," I whispered after gulping down more than 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 two-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 hospital bed.
"Hey," I whispered.
"Hey." He smiled and took the Dr Pepper from me, placing it on the rolling tray next to the bed. "Move over," he whispered.
"Where's Carl?" I asked while yawning and stretching.
Rick nodded his head towards the bassinet. "Sleepin'."
"Rick, he looks just like you," I said in amazement.
We looked at each other and grinned. Rick Grimes, the dirty little boy who used to chase me around while threatening to throw frogs and worms at me, was a daddy now.
"Move over, Michonne," he said in a slightly louder but still hushed voice.
The smile fell from my face. I was ecstatic that he was finally here, but Rick could be overbearingly bossy at times. Only he would have the nerve to wake me up after I'd given birth to his child to make me share my hospital bed. I turned onto my side to give him space, but only after frowning at him and sighing.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he muttered as he climbed in and rested on his side to face me.
He squinted at me when he saw the look on my face. "Really, Michonne? It's not even your bed."
"Shoes," I ordered.
With an eye roll and a big smile, he kicked his shoes off. "You're so bossy."
Before I could respond to his accusation, 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. He and I had thirty years of history, and though I stopped claiming him as my best friend when he and Lori got married, I did still claim him as my officially unofficial best friend. 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, Michonne."
There were so many emotions battling in those blue eyes of his. I could see his gratitude for me, his love and joy for Carl, and his heartbreak over Lori. As nerve-wracking as my day had been, 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."
Rick had a cheap streak, and I wasn't about to have my Android replaced with some basic flip phone from the early 2000s.
"The fanciest," he agreed, closing his eyes.
"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, Michonne? We both know that thang already had quite a few miles on it."
"Your point?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"My point is that I seriously doubt my seven-pound son caused any damage to what was probably already dinged up and dented."
"Seven pounds and four ounces," I clarified, rolling my eyes.
He chuckled before leaning over and kissing my forehead. "Ahhhh, seven pounds and four ounces... My apologies. I'm sure those four ounces made all the difference," he said entirely too sarcastically. "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 stayed with me through Carl's birth, and while Glenn refused to do anything but hold my hand, Daryl was fine with getting up close and personal. I cringed at the memory of him laughing and saying in disbelief, "Damn, 'Chonne! I've never seen a hole that big!" That comment was what put him on the Lori List.
I rolled my eyes and returned my focus to Rick, who looked like he was quickly giving in to sleep. I hated to bring up what was sure to be a touchy topic, but it couldn't be avoided completely.
"Lori?" I questioned.
He looked away in shame. "I never would have asked... It wasn't supposed to be... If I'd known that she..." he mumbled, unable to find the right words to express himself.
"Stop," I said firmly. "I don't regret it, Rick. I'm glad I could do this for you, for Carl. I don't regret it."
He let out a pained sigh of relief and gave my hand another squeeze.
"She's gone then?" I asked.
He stared at me for a long moment before quietly saying, "She left a letter." I wondered if she wrote more than "I can't" in that letter.
"Michonne, how do I do this alone?"
The despair in Rick's voice and the frenzied look in his teary eyes devastated me, but Rick was wrong.
"You're not alone," I quickly reassured him, wiping away his tears. "You have Daryl, and you have me. And it'll be impossible to keep Glenn away."
His tears continued to fall. I doubted he even heard what I'd just said.
"You have all of us," I reiterated, 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."
When even more of his tears fell, I pulled him close and held him tight as he quietly sobbed in my arms.
"We got this, Rick. I got you. Always."
A/N: Thank you for reading! Please take the time to leave a review. It's appreciated!