Page 17 of Counting His heartbeats

This is just what I needed because this woman has changed my disposition in a matter of minutes.

"So, how's your day been? Have you seen the baby? I think he's getting a little bigger. Do you?" Zurmani asks, sounding blissfully happy and fully alive, deepening my grin.

My mood suddenly becomes buoyant when Zurmani mentions Little Man because I can talk about his little self for hours. Having the ability to discuss him with Zurmani is wonderful because it feels like we're co-parenting and discussing the new development of our child. No one connected to me isaware of my volunteering or bonding with a baby, so I love the idea of Zurmani and I creating this relationship of shared experience.

"It's been a great day because I spent some time with Little Man earlier. Since he smelled like you, I know you were there today, too. I can't tell if he's changing in size, though," I say in a lighthearted tone.

"I was. I can't help it. If I could, I would be there all day, but these bills won't pay themselves, so I got to punch the work clock."

See, Zurmani and I are on the same page, which is crazy because Little Man ain't our child.

"I feel you on that. He's a good baby," I mention.

"He is. Oh, if you don't mind, can we take a minute to pray for his mom?" Zurmani asks.

Keep it up, Zurmani, and I'm gonna figure out how to convince you to marry me.

"Of course we can. You want me to pray, or do you want to?"

Thanks to Mama Lo, I don't have any issues with praying in Zurmani's presence because she gave me the confidence necessary to talk to God without limitations.

"I'll go and then leave the floor open in case you want to add anything when I'm done," Zurmani says.

"Bet." Bowing my head, I clear my thoughts of everything but Little Man and his mother when Zurmani begins praying.

"Father, in the name above every name, Jawaan and I come before your throne of grace on behalf of Little Man and his mother. While we don't know what's going on with his mother's health, I ask that you would touch her body."

"Yes. Do it, God," I add.

Hearing Zurmani speak firmly while praying for the woman neither of us has had the pleasure of meeting fills me with warmth, gratitude, and an unexplainable sense of pride. While Ican't understand why God has me providing care for Little Man, I appreciate Him allowing me to be in the right place at the right time.

This was the perfect way to shift not only my thoughts but also my mood. I'd be able to sleep with ease after this.

"We could have left that motherfucker with those people had I known he would look like the man you cheated on me with. How the hell am I gonna explain those light eyes his little ass has, Jennifer? I thought God was working in my favor the day you called to tell me the hospital couldn't find your bastard baby. Here we are five years later, putting our lives on hold. Meanwhile, we sent my daughter to live with relatives so that boy can get accustomed to us."

"I'm sorry, Jared. What do you want me to do? I've been trying to balance your needs with his, but he's my child," Jennifer counters.

"No, the fuck you haven't, or we wouldn't be having this discussion. Now I'm sick of this shit. Either find a way to get him out of here, or I'm out of here," Jared aggressively warns.

Jumping up, I look around my room in a daze, and my heart hammers in my chest, causing me to be out of sorts. Grabbing the water bottle on my nightstand, I take a healthy drink, and the liquid instantly soothes my dry throat. The conversation I overheard between Jennifer and Jared is one I have never shared with anyone. While I understand why Jared was never able to connect with me, it doesn't excuse why Jennifer chose Jared over me. No amount of separation should have given her reasons to allow Jared to push her into rejecting her child.Jennifer's inability to fight for or defend me has me suffering from rejection and abandonment.

"After a powerful prayer from Zurmani provided me with such a light feeling, why is this memory surfacing? Dang, man. My life has been one conundrum after the other, and you want me to push through like the void in my chest doesn't exist," I vent, looking Heavenward.

Yes, because I am the Lord, and I will be close to you in the midst of your brokenhearted and crushed spirit. So be strong and courageous! I will neither fail you nor abandon you.

Tears form before slipping from the corners of my eyes because no one knows the things and storms I'm battling when my mind becomes idle.

When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shall not be burned. Neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.

My shoulders bounce heavily when the emotion clogging my throat comes out in a wail I'm no longer able to contain.

"God, please. I'm trying, but this is a lot for me to carry," I cry.

Oh, Jawaan Emmanuel, even your name confirms my commitment to you. I, the Lord God, am with you. There is no valley low enough where I can't reach you.

That Sunday

My mood has been off the past few days because I haven't been to the hospital in an attempt to keep myself from getting attached to the baby. The problem with my logic is that it's too late because instead of being at the hospital, I have been crying from not succumbing to what my heart has been needing. It's crazy for me to let myself get attached, knowing the baby doesn't belong to me. Maybe volunteering as a coping mechanism for overcoming my loss wasn't the best idea. Or I should have chosen another wing of the hospital to spend my time in rather than surrounding myself with babies. Yet, something magnetic and unexplainable had driven me to that particular baby. He wasn't the only child in the NICU needing attention and love, yet he's the one my heart leaped over from day one.

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