I am getting into the groove of having two children. Let me be the first to tell you going from 2 to 3 kids is easy compared to going from 1 to 2 kids. Just throw the 3rd kid in there and let them fend for themselves because mommy and daddy need a nap. Morgan was about 4 and Reid was about 9 months so I’m finally getting adjusted and Morgan is becoming more self-sufficient. Don’t get me wrong she aint fixing her own meals or anything but she can at least wipe her own ass. Don’t sleep wiping your own ass can save you a lot of embarrassment because that brown streak just aint cool my man.
So one day we are at church and the pastor is making her announcements and she says 3 of the church members and of course everybody looking at us and I’m like naw nigga it’s your turn. The church turned into a game of Clue trying to find out who was pregnant. A couple of my co-workers who were also members of the church so even at work we are playing the guessing game about who’s pregnant. Since it aint us, I’m introducing my wife to all types of liquor like yak, Patron you know the good shit not the bull shit. Weeks go by and out of the blue my wife says her mouth hurts and she’s going to the dentist. While she was at the dentist they ask about her last cycle and my wife like ‘shit I don’t know’. I guess because they were giving her medicine they have to make she ain’t pregnant first which is understandable. They give her the blood test and then the dentist comes back like,
Dentist: ‘yea uhhhh you can’t get this medicine today’
Quianna: ‘why I got insurance’
Dentist: ‘oh I know that but you are pregnant”
Da da daaaaaaaaaaaaaa. The plot thickens. So come to find out my wife is pregnant again and I’m about to be a father again. At my job we are playing the guessing game and I was like, ‘watch it be you Brother’ and his response was ‘yea right’. 5 minutes later I get a call from Quianna. I’m thinking she’s about to update me on her dentist visit and how she needs all the Coldstone, Progresso Soup and aspirin because her mouth hurt.
Sonny: “what’s up baby?”
Quianna: “I’m ok. The dentist visit was a flop”
Sonny: ‘why was it a flop?’
Quianna: ‘because I’m pregnant’
Sonny: ‘Man let me call you back…. Click’
Now before you think I was being rude. I just wanted some privacy because as I’m on the phone with her, my co-worker is instant messaging me asking how Quianna was doing and I didn’t want to tell her yet. I just hope Quianna didn’t hop in her GroupMe like ‘this nigga Sonny aint shit”. But I called her back and we talked and from there the excitement was in the air. For the record, I did look at the pastor with the side eye like how you know that shit and we didn’t know that shit…man she’s good.
I’m praying for another boy but deep down as long as the baby is healthy that’s all that matters. Choosing another doctor another hospital all the nuances in order for Quianna and I to have a piece of mind. Going to the doctor and taking all the pre-natal packets because my baby is going to be healthy and strong believe that shit. As usual, doctors want to talk about my wife weight which really gets on my nerves but I’m used to it and we just laugh because everybody is made differently so just chill and don’t fuck up.
Everything is going well until one appointment the doctors comes to us and says her stomach isn’t growing as fast as we would like which could create a small baby. See we didn’t have any problems with the other 2 kids because pre-gestational diabetes so now I’m on the edge of my seats like ‘what you talking about Willis’. After many questions and Google searches he said this is one of those scenarios we need to constantly monitor but as long as she goes full-term she will be fine plus being out of the stomach is better than inside if this doesn’t get any better. So that’s a sigh of relief and back to being my playful self.
Once again another appointment nothing out the ordinary just taking some blood making sure everybody is ok. Alright man you found the vein let’s get to work so I can get home and get something to eat. As we are waiting for the doctor, she comes into the room looking at a folder making all these facial expressions and I’m like what the fuck is that about what she got Tourette’s or something. Tell me something doc. Come to find out Hannah had a 7% chance of having Down Syndrome and we should consider terminating the pregnancy. I made sure I heard her correctly.
Sonny: Doctor you did say 7% correct, not 70%, not 93% but 7% correct
Doctor: Yes…Mr. Grayson
Sonny: oh aight well we keeping it then
Man I can’t lie that shit had me shook doe. I used to work with children and adults who had mental or physical disabilities and a lot of them had Down Syndrome but you never think that it can happen to you until it happens to you. So we ride in silence and as soon as we got home immediately prayed and cried this out. It was like something was just weighing me down because every appointment doctor kept asking ‘do we want the baby’ and deep down I wanted to say ‘yea motherfucker stop asking me that shit’ but I’m 6 feet tall about 315 pounds and I know somebody would of tased me if not worse so I keep my composure. After conversations with the Pastor we just let it go and gave it all to God and prepared for whatever happens.
Now 2 years later my daughter Hannah is by far the comedian out of the three kids and in the future gives me problems because she is so cute and is filled of laughter. She’s the cool kid that can be the sour patch but then sing a song and say I love you da da and then I forgot why I was mad in the first place. I love you Hannah. Reid definitely loves you Hannah so all you young 2 year olds just know she got an older brother with a temper and a father who is big as shit. I can’t wait to see what life has in store for you and to think the doctor wanted us to get rid of you. What was she thinking? Shit I don’t know either Hannah. Juice boxes, bubbles and some fruit snacks on me kid. Happy birthday Hannah Grayson