Closer

Bedrest.

January 12, 2016
I wake up early so I can take an extra long shower and get ready for day. Today Naomi wants me to model for her maternity clothing line and magazine, and I had a feeling today would something special was going to happen. After taking an hour long shower and styling my hair half up and half down, throwing on my outfit Maria bought me excluding the shoes, I put on the BearPaws, and doing my makeup lightly because I knew the hairdressers and stylists would change all of it I was ready. I say goodbye to Canabis, Mary Jane, Atlas and Chaos I leave my room and quietly tip toe down the stairs and out the house. I send a text to my mom, telling her where I'll be if she wakes up before I'm back. Starting the engine I putter over to the studio Naomi was waiting for me at, and begin my career as a model, my first shoot is me naked. Yippie!

"Curl her hair! I want no touch ups, let her tattoos show. Make up little to none, make her eyes pop! Can I get a wax in here?" Are some of the first words I hear Naomi boss around. Wax? Oh my, this is much more than I bargained for, I haven't waxed or shaved anything for that matter in almost 6 months, when my stomach covered my feet I didn't care anymore. I don't complain though, because hey it's free! I lay still as women come in and wax me from head to toe, and silently scream. After they do their job I'm hassled into robe and into makeup, where they apply dark eyeliner and mascara that make my eyes pop, a little blush that makes my natural glow more present and a thin layer of mocha lipstick all while someone is behind me curling my long hair to perfection. Once the makeup is done the hairstylist is in front of me, placing my hair where he thinks is best and fixing all the little frizzes.

"Darling you have marvelous hair! If you don't mind me asking what exactly are you?" I laugh at his question, I'm asked that a lot.

"Im Jamaican, African American, and Ojibwe." I answer him. Hw gasps and slaps my shoulder.

"Such a nice mix. It gives you beautiful hair. Never cut this!" He says grabbing a handful of my long hair.

"Well I'm going to actually. After the twins are born I'm cutting my hair back to the length it was freshman year. Just slightly above the shoulders." I answer truthfully. My hair is annoying and heavy. It hurts carrying this thick mess sometimes, and it naps up so easily I always have to have it styled someway or another. He gasps again, eyes bulging out.
"It grows that fast?"

"Yes, sometimes faster." I answer. That's why I'm not afraid to cut it. At first I was like no ma! Please no! But 3 months after it was cut it was back to its original length." I explain. My hair always grew unnaturally fast, it's a trait in the family. After Zach, the hair dresser, and I finish our chat Naomi storms in.

"Has no one from my staff done your nails yet?" She asks me. I shake my head no, I did them myself, but she hasn't seen them yet. I show her my hands, they're french manicured even with the acrylic on it.

"I thought you said no one did you nails." She scolds me.

"They didn't. I did them myself. I learned when I was younger since I've always had long nails. Never once has anyone besides me done my nails." I say pridefully. My mom bought me my first acrylic set when I was 12, and ever since then I've had a huge collection of nail polish of ever color imaginable, nail polish removers, dotting tools of all shapes and sizes, nail files, those wooden sticks, makeup sponges that I use for my nails, clippers, anything I wanted.

"They look good Koma. Are you set?" She asks me.

"Ready as can be." I say through a sigh. I get up and make way to the set up, seeing the lights and the backspace making me nervous a little.

"Drop the robe." Naomi demands, and I comply. The photographer gives me directions on where to place my hands what faces to make, how to flip my hair, and how to angle my body. I'm glad that they never made me pose whole body exposed, my breasts and center always hidden with my hands and the cross of my legs.

"Look sensual Nakoema." He directs me and I try my best to look sensual, imagining Isaiah here with me.

"Perfect. Tilt your head left and arch your back a little. Right there hold it. Hold it." He says snapping a few pictures of me in that position.

"Can I get the bed in here now?" He calls as workers hurry in shoving a bed into the room.

"Lay down." He commands and I do, they bring in a sheet and pillow which he fixes around. He commands me to sit up and when I do he lays the pillow down and tells me to lay my breasts down on the pillow, then tells me how he'd like me to fix the sheet as he didn't do it for my comfort. I fix the sheet so that one leg is above and on the sheet while it lays between my legs, one under it and it's pooled around my waist. Zach comes over and moves my hair so it's in my face.

"Look pouty, but not sad or bratty, look like thinking pouty." The photographer commands me and once again pictures are snapped and I'm contorting my body and fixing my face in so many expressions. After another half hour I'm shooed away into the dressing room and clothes are being bombarded at me. I go to change into a black and white maxi dress with stripes when a pain rickets throughout my whole body. I gasp in shock and double over as I've never experienced anything like this. Ever. Not even when I got cramps. My breathing shallows and I'm trying hard not to cry. Just as quickly as it came, it left. Ignoring it I continue to shimmy into the dress, mentally reminding myself to ask Naomi for one later. After putting it on fully I'm prepared to walk out to makeup when I feel that immense pain again. I can't ignore this. I think I'm going into labor.

"Can we get a nurse? Doctor? Anyone my daughter is going into labor!" José exclaims once he wheels me into the emergency room.

After the second contraction I found Naomi and told her. She instantly cancelled the shoot and ordered José to carry me to the to the car and drive me to the hospital, she'd be here any minute.
Instantly a nurse wheels me to the maternity ward and a doctor comes in. After questioning me and checking me cervix he says with authority,

"Nakoema, you're not in labor, these are Braxton Hicks contractions. Nakoema, you have to go on bedrest."

Well fuck. Here it goes.