Love Knows No Color Pt. 13

The next weekend, the family threw a baby shower for Shavonda in the church hall. We received so many gifts, there really wasn't much else to buy for the baby. We'd already bought the big stuff. The gifts took care of things like clothing and diapers for the foreseeable future. It was all becoming more real by the day now. The house was filled with signs of the impending arrival. Now it was just a waiting game.

We celebrated Shavonda's 32nd birthday in mid-November, at week 37, with family and friends. Even Barbara was invited. Unbelievably, Rose had replied to Shavonda's letter with one of her own, that she had given to Barbara on her recent visit. Shavonda read the letter out loud to the guests.

"Dear Shavonda,

Mother tells me it's your birthday. I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday."

"I really appreciated your letter. I don't deserve your forgiveness. After all I put you and Jason through, you had every right to hate me. And you did. I could see it in your eyes, in the way you talked around me, in your statement at my sentencing hearing. I couldn't blame you for that, but I did. I am happy that you've been able to move past that and find peace in your heart. Maybe someday I can do the same. I'm working toward that."

"I understand the baby is almost due. May your baby be healthy and happy. And may the baby bring you as much joy and happiness as mine have brought me. I am a bit jealous that Jason will be there for you during the birth. He wasn't for me. He was across the country, trying to make a way for us. You have a good man there. I didn't realize how good until I lost him. That was my fault. There are many things in my life I've come to regret. Appreciating what I had when I had it was one of the biggest ones."

"Good luck,

Rose Meridith Waite"

It was touching. If Rose had started down the path she was now taking before she let Shavonda get to her, we'd have never gone through the pain and heartache we had endured. But we'd come through it all stronger. It was Rose's decision to strike out against Shavonda, without ever having talked to her, without trying to at least get to know her. It was ironic that the first conversation the two of them had was when Shavonda had kicked her ass in the woods. It was also ironic that it took the loss of everything Rose valued to bring about even this slight change of heart. But at least she was making progress.

For her birthday, I had gotten her a keyboard and amp, so she could join me in the game room as I practiced my bass guitar. Unfortunately, we didn't get a chance to set it up before she went into labor.

Shavonda had visited the doctor a few days previous, and told me he'd advised she do a perineal massage. She told me she wanted me to do this for her every day. She wanted me to put my thumbs in her vagina, and gently pull and massage the lower part, pulling it downward toward her butt. The idea was to loosen her up for childbirth. But to be honest, she'd wanted me to do this because she knew how much I loved playing with her. After all, when she slept with a pillow between her legs, my hand often rested there, gently stroking her lips. The first time we attempted the massage, we ended up making love after I'd eaten her to orgasm.

The perineal massage became part of our routine. Often, we put the kids in their room, and she lay on the bed, ass propped up with pillows, naked except for the bra she now wore most of the time. Her breasts were becoming full of pre-milk, and her nipples leaked now. It was another sign we were close to delivery. Often, she read poetry aloud to the baby while we were doing the massage, and I always tried to give her some additional stimulation just to hear the catch in her voice as I hit her sweet spot. One night, she rolled over on her side, saying, "Damn you boy. I can't take this anymore." She grabbed me by the rod, pulling me up to her mouth, where she proceeded to give me some of the best head I ever had. That was saying something, because Shavonda knew how to please me. But something about the urgency with which she did it that night made it even more special.

Shavonda often had insomnia, and would lay there cuddled up to me, sleepless, while I got a good night's sleep. She'd go to work the next day, tired, and often fall asleep in a recliner we'd put in the back room while the other employees minded the store. When you own the place, you can do things like that. Nobody complained, because they knew she made the effort to come in every day no matter how bad she was feeling. Often, when she had insomnia, she would still be awake when I had to get up for work. I had some early starts certain days, and getting up as early as 2am was routine. She often joined me in the shower in the mornings.

The Thursday before Thanksgiving was one of those early days. Shavonda had joined me in the shower, and as we soaped each other up, she seemed to be really responsive to my touch. So, when I washed her private areas, I rubbed her clit until she came. I loved the way she made those sexy little growls and squeals as she stiffened her back and pushed back into me. As she came down from her peak, her legs were shaking, and I had to grab her by the hips to steady her. That was all it took.

Shavonda looked at me with lust crazed eyes. She kissed me deeply, driving her tongue deep into my mouth and banishing my own as hers invaded and ravished me. There was a passionate urgency that I'd seen before, but this time was different. It was like she knew something was about to happen. Breaking our kiss, she whispered huskily, "Take me, Jason. It may be the last time we do this for a while." She removed my hands from her hips, and turned around with her back to me. Bending over, she grabbed my member and guided me into her little slice of heaven. I remember noticing she seemed a bit looser than she'd been. The perineal massages must have been working. But she tightened up around me as I thrust in, bucking her hips back into me and impaling herself as deep as I would go. She was like a wildcat, riding me as she shook with another orgasm.

I wondered what had gotten into her, guessing it had something to do with pregnancy hormones. Whatever it was, I was enjoying the ride. All I could do was hold on for dear life as she worked her ass back into my pelvis, driving me deep with every stroke. I couldn't even meet her thrusts, as she'd backed me against the shower wall. I had no room to pull back. I was completely at her mercy as the warm water cascaded over us. Her pussy walls clutched and squeezed as she worked back into me. "Come for me, baby," she moaned. My hands clutched the side of her hips as she rode, squeezing her with increasing firmness as I felt my own peak building. "Jason, boo, mama wants to feel you come. Drive it deep, boo. Give it to me."

Shavonda knew I loved it when she talked dirty to me. And she also knew I was close. She crashed her hips back into me one last time as I help her hips tight. When she pulled forward, I held her hips to me as I let go deep inside her. "Mmmmm, that's it baby," she moaned as she felt me shoot spurt after spurt of my sticky juice deep inside her.

We dried each other off, then staggered to the bed where we lay for a little while. Shavonda had curled up on her side and gone to sleep, our juices seeping out of her along the bottom of her ass cheek, pearly white against her sexy chocolate skin. I quickly dressed and left for work, kissing her on the lips as I left.

She went to work that day at the normal time, but by lunchtime she'd started having contractions. Shortly after noon, her water broke. One of the employees drove her to Magee Hospital, where they admitted her to the maternity ward.

I was in State College, working my way to my last stop, when my phone blew up. There were about 5 calls in the space of about ten minutes. Arriving at my stop in Bellefonte, I quickly checked my phone. 3 calls from Shavonda, one from Althea, and one from Nick, my boss. I decided to call Nick first.

"Where are you at?" he asked. "Get your ass back here. Your wife's having a baby!"

I let them unload me, then closed the truck back up and called Shavonda. "Where you at?" she asked. I told her. "Well get back here as soon as you can. The baby's coming." I heard her scream out in pain as a contraction gripped her. "Boy get your ass back here! I'm not doing this alone!"

Normally, I enjoyed the long 4-hour drive back to Leetsdale. But today, it seemed like the longest drive ever. It seemed like on every hill, I was boxed in by fully loaded trucks. With me being empty, I could normally pass them all up, as long as one loaded truck didn't try to pass another, tying up the left lane for a mile or more. Coming up the mountain out of Milesburg, I was lucky to make 40 because of all the trucks. It was the same way on the mountain out of Clearfield. Finally, with the two big mountains out of the way, I could make some time. I arrived back in Leetsdale about 6:30 pm and quickly parked the truck. Turning my waybills in to Nick, I told him, "Don't expect me in tomorrow. It's going to be a long night."

I fought rush hour traffic to Oakland, where the hospital was located. Luckily, I had stashed a change of clothes in the car a couple weeks earlier, and as I entered the hospital I had the duffel bag slung over my shoulder. In the other hand, I had my camera bag, which I usually kept in the Jeep. Security looked through the bags, then let me go up to the room. Security looked up Shavonda's name and gave me the room number of her birthing suite.

When I walked in the room, Shavonda was sitting up in bed, legs spread, with Althea seated in a chair beside her, holding her hand. "It's about time," she said crossly. Then her tone softened. "I didn't mean that, boo. I'm in a lot of pain right now. I've been praying you'd get here in time."

"How far along are you?" I asked.

"5 centimeters," she said. "That was the last time they checked about an hour ago. I'm about halfway dilated." I kissed her and took her hand. "Baby, maybe you'd better wash up. We'll keep the nurses busy."

I looked at Althea, who nodded. "We got this," she said with a smile. I entered the bathroom and quickly washed up in the sink, giving myself a quick shave as well. I changed into the clean clothes and put the dirty ones in the duffel bag. A quick spray of Dark Temptation, and I was ready for duty.

I took over Althea's seat, holding Shavonda's hand as another contraction hit. She squeezed my hand hard enough to hurt, but the pain was a small sacrifice compared to what she was going through. She gritted her teeth as her body slowly pushed the baby just a little bit more.

Looking around the room, I noticed Althea had brought our cd player and one of the iPods. Giles Reaves filled the air. I smiled. I had introduced her to his soothing brand of new age music. Shavonda, being a lover of smooth jazz, had instantly recognized his music for what it was, a masterpiece of composition. It flattered me that, of all the music we both had, she chose this to relax to while she gave birth. I thought it was a great choice.

The rest of the evening passed quicker than I had anticipated. Althea retired to the waiting room where James was waiting. Every so often, she'd wander in to check on Shavonda's progress. In between contractions, I read poetry to Shavonda, feeding her ice chips, trying to keep her mind off the pain she was enduring. But the contractions were coming more frequently now. On one she screamed at me. "You did this to me!" I couldn't help but smile a little. We'd often joked about this very thing, how cliché it was. And how she swore she'd never say that to me in the birthing suite.

A bit after midnight, the doctor came in to check on Shavonda. "It looks like you're 10 centimeters now. It won't be long until the baby is here," he said cheerfully.

"Just get that thing out of me," Shavonda hissed, her face contorted in pain. I just kept quiet.

"Well, you're coming along just fine," the doctor said. "I'll be here until you deliver. Let me know when you feel the urge to push."

We waited for the next set of contractions. Shavonda didn't feel the urge to push for about a half hour, then suddenly, she did. I held her hand and rubbed her arm as she bore down and gritted her teeth. The contractions were coming every couple of minutes now, and the doctor was encouraging her to push with each one.

After about 35 minutes of pushing, Shavonda was ready for the final phase. "I have to push," she moaned. "This baby is coming now!" She bore down with all her might, her hand crushing mine in the process. Her head was bathed in sweat and the nurse wiped her with a cool sponge.

"She's crowning," the doctor said. "I can see the top of the baby's head."

"Baby, I'm sorry. I have to let go of your hand and watch this," I said.

Shavonda nodded, sweat drops flying as her head moved. "Go see your baby. I'm fine," she said through gritted teeth.

I walked over to the front of the bed, where the doctor was. I stood beside him. Shavonda was spread wide, the top of the baby's head was plainly visible. She gritted her teeth as another contraction took hold.

"Push, baby," I said to her. "It's almost over. One more good push and the baby will be here." Shavonda bore down and groaned loudly as she pushed with all her might. The baby's head popped free, followed by first one shoulder, then the other in a little shimmy. I would remember that shimmy as long as I lived. Shoulders free, the rest of the baby easily slid free into the doctor's waiting hands. The nurse quickly cut the umbilical cord. The baby was now free.

"You did it!" I exclaimed to Shavonda as the doctor slapped the baby, who took the first breath in the most beautiful cry I had ever heard. He handed the baby to the nurse. Taking the baby to a small table, the nurse cleaned up the baby, tied off the umbilical cord, and wrapped her in a blanket. I followed the nurse to a small scale table where she weighed and measured it.

"What is it?" Shavonda asked anxiously.

"It's a girl. 7 pounds 12 ounces. 21 inches," the nurse said as I gazed upon my beautiful baby girl. She stared back at me, whimpering softly. She had wispy black hairs, blue eyes, and skin the color of peanut butter. Placing a knit cap on the baby's head, she handed our little wonder to me. "Support her head. Her neck is very fragile. Take her to her mother."

I carried our baby to Shavonda, and handed her over. "Support the neck," I said. "Meet your baby."

"Hello, Miracle," Shavonda said. Turning her head to the nurse, she whispered, "That's her name. Miracle Shavonda Waite. I've waited so long for this. I can't believe she's finally here." Tears ran down her face. I grabbed my Nikon from the bedside table, and quickly took Miracle's first pictures. She was resting peacefully, snuggled to Shavonda's body as she sat up in the bed. The smile was priceless. Shavonda, though exhausted and in a lot of pain, was happy.

And so, at 1:27 am on Friday, November 22, Shavonda Marie Waite, gave birth to a healthy baby girl to the man she loved, fulfilling her lifelong dream.

"Well, Daddy," she said. "What was it like to finally see your child born?"

"It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Thank you, boo. It was worth it. I love you so much." I smiled at the two most beautiful girls in my life. One who I loved deeply enough to stand by her through the hard times. And the one I never dreamed we'd create. Miracle wasn't just ours, she was us. She had my blue grey eyes, and she had Shavonda's nose and hair. Her pigmentation was midway between our skin tones.

The nurse let us bond with the baby. Shavonda had taken off her hospital gown earlier during the evening after I'd arrived, saying it was too constricting. She now positioned the baby next to one of her breasts, and the baby took a couple of tentative licks then opened its lips and latched onto her dark nipple. We watched in awe as the Miracle took her first feeding from her loving mother.

I asked if it was okay to have visitors, the nurse said okay but only a couple at once. At Shavonda's request, the nurse pulled a blanket over her naked body, leaving only the head of the baby suckling at her breast visible. Reluctantly, I left the room, and walked to the waiting room. "It's a girl," I smiled as I told the waiting crowd. "Miracle Shavonda Waite. 7 pounds 12, 21 inches long. And healthy. Both mother and daughter are doing fine. You can come back if you want. Two at a time." James and Althea followed me back to the room first, where they hugged us and cooed at the baby. James seemed a little uneasy at the sight of his daughter feeding the baby. But I said, "Isn't mother-daughter love special?" Althea smiled at me, then Shavonda, who smiled back.

"That it is," was all Althea said.

Velma and Shaunice were next, and finally Brian and Tamika. "When you gonna put one of those up in me?" Tamika asked Brian in a playful mood.

Brian simply said, "Whenever you want one. We'll be married by the time it gets here."

After a little while, they moved Shavonda out of the birthing room to her own room. Miracle went to the nursery to allow Shavonda to get some rest. She was exhausted. I pulled up a chair beside the bed, and reclined it back. Grabbing her hand, I held it, stroking the back with my thumb. "Congratulations," I said. "You just gave me the most beautiful thing in the world. I love you so much, boo."

She looked down at me, and my pale hand holding her dark one. "No, Jason," she said. "Holding my hand won't do. Climb up here in the bed and hold me. I need you right now." She rolled over, back to me. I climbed up in the hospital bed, after removing my shoes, and curled up behind her, arm around her protectively. The nurse walked in a short time later, and quickly walked out. By this time, Shavonda was sound asleep in my arms.

In a couple of minutes, the nurse returned with a couple of other nurses. "Awww, that's so sweet," one of them said. I looked at them and started to get up. "No, it's okay. She needs you. Hold her. Make her feel special." Our nurse pulled the covers over us. Shavonda was still naked, having yet to get out of bed to put her gown back on. The nurses left the room and we slept the rest of the night in her hospital bed.

The next morning, Shavonda was able to get up and walk around. She put on a hospital gown, and we slowly walked to the nursery to see our baby. Miracle lay in a nursery bed, looking cute in her little knit cap. The nurse picked her up and brought her to the window, holding her up for us to admire. "You did good work," I said. "She's beautiful. You know, the first time we made love, and you told me you couldn't have children, I remember thinking what a shame that was. Because we'd make a beautiful baby together. I'm glad we got the chance."

Shavonda smiled at me. She kissed me and said, "Thank you for being there."

We talked to the nurse, and requested the baby be brought to the room whenever possible. We wanted to bond with Miracle as much as possible. A short time later, after we'd walked back to the room, they wheeled her in, lying in her little nursery bed. I picked her up and held her, rocking her gently as Shavonda grabbed my camera and started taking pictures. "You look good with her, Daddy," she said with tears in her eyes.

The day was a busy one. We welcomed a constant stream of visitors to the room, and a couple of people had sent flowers as well. They brightened the room with their bright colors and sweet smell. Late in the evening, Ziggy arrived and after greeting Shavonda and the baby, he asked about Shavonda's testimony at officer Schumacher's trial.

Shavonda said. "If they put me on the stand, the defense will eat me alive. I'm going to have to think about this. Can you give me a couple of weeks?"