Sorin Hutton
I feel sick.
For reasons I don't know why.
I thought we still had almost two months until our daughter was born. An entire 46 days with my girlfriend to prepare. I wanted to make her my fiancé today, I had a feeling Christmas would be a special day. I just didn't know today would be special because of this.
I'm sick to my stomach because I'm both excited and afraid. My stomach churns as I take the hospital bag and place my palm on Nita's lower back.
Before walking over to my side of the car and waving goodbye to everyone, I assist Nita into the passenger seat of the car and place my hand on Nita's thigh whilst I drive to the hospital.
"We haven't decided on a name yet, Sorin." I raise an eyebrow as she groans and rolls her head back, my attention remaining fixed on the road ahead of us.
"Your really focusing on that right now." I ask her whilst taking a quick glance to my left to notice her shrugging her shoulders.
I know she's scared on the inside. She's desperate to express her feelings, something I know about Nita is how much she loves control and schedule. I know she's hating herself right now because she feels as though her body betrayed her because she had no control.
I'd like to give her the golden key that will allow her to break through the barrier that is confining her in her own thoughts. I want to offer her the freedom to communicate how she's feeling, and I want to know that I'm not the only one who's worried about this, but I can't because the key has been misplaced.
The key disappeared a long time ago before I had to the chance to reunite with her once again. No matter how long it takes, I'm going to find that key. I want her to feel completely overwhelmed by my love that she will never feel shame to say whatever is on her mind.
Regardless of the nonsense she normally thinks. I want her to tell me what kind of cereal she wants to have for breakfast tomorrow, and I want to help her get the courage to ask for help from others. Because this baby is a huge commitment, and we'll need help whether we want it or not.
My spare hand is interlocked with Nita's, and every now and again I lightly brush my thumb over her knuckles. "Are you afraid?" I question in a slight whisper, she remains silent for a few moments before turning in her seat to face me.
"What a ridiculous question." She laughs showing her perfectly aligned teeth.
I once asked as to why she always hides her smile when laughing with her hand, and she explained "Because my body failed to create the ideal teeth that society demands, I spent much of my childhood wearing braces. Nobody had ever pointed my teeth or braces out verbally, though I knew they were all silently judging me, and that's the worst kind of judgment I've ever encountered since you always assume the worst of people's opinions without ever hearing them."
I didn't know how to answer since all I could think about was how poetic she is. You could ask her the simplest or most idiotic question, and she will respond with words that will shift your entire perspective on life.
Since that day, I've despised silent judgement since it's how we humans develop severe insecurities. Without knowing the truth, we make assumptions about what other people are thinking. We are continuously making assumptions.
