PRESENT PERFECT

Today is the day of my birthday shower.

Actually, I was told it was to be a joint birthday celebration for me and my niece, Katie, who turns 16 today. (My birthday doesn't come until tomorrow.) They kept the baby shower part a secret from me until the very last minute.

This is my very first baby shower. It is ironic that I had to wait until my fourth pregnancy before somebody actually gave a baby shower on my behalf. It's nobody's fault, really. When I was carrying my first child, Max, my ex-husband and I were bi-coastal and essentially alone, dividing our time between California (L.A.) and Florida (Miami), away from both of our families. When I was expecting Lance and Troy, Lorenzo's sister, Selina, attempted to give me baby showers, but my babies decided to come way ahead of schedule.

So here I am, at Selina's house, finally revelling in the spotlight, gamely enduring the guests' pats on my tummy. I look at the dinner table, laden with food. My sisters-in-law, Selina, Grace and Anna really outdid themselves this time. Later, their co-conspirator, my mother-in-law, would arrive bringing more familiar family fare. It was the usual Sereno gathering, with food in the dining room, poker in the living room, karaoke in the family room, and swimming in the back yard.

Amid all the chaos, I found myself constantly returning to the kitchen counter where the pretty baby shower cake lay, still in its box. I would stand there as if mesmerized, gazing in wonder at the name swirled in pink icing: "Baby Loren". Our first baby daughter. I shift my gaze to the pile of presents intended for this unseen little bundle of joy. I have never seen so much pink in my life.

Yet this baby shower very nearly came too late again. Less than 24 hours ago, Lorenzo rushed me to the Emergency Room for contractions. I started feeling some mild cramping at about 4:30 yesterday afternoon but I brushed it aside. We were going to the mall in search of an outfit for me to wear to the party, and I didn't want to miss that. However, when 9:30 came and the contractions continued, I decided it was time to go to the hospital.

Looking back at what happened last night, it felt really strange to be in an LDR (Labor and Delivery Room) so early in my pregnancy. Yet there was that unmistakeable sense of deja vu. Yes, I had been in this scenario countless times, far too many than I care to remember. All my pregnancies have been far from uneventful. I am a veteran of non-stress tests and third-trimester complications. For the thousandth time, I ask the powers-that-be why a normal, safe pregnancy remains so elusive to me.

One of the first people we called last night was Selina, who fianlly spilled the beans on tomorrow's baby shower. I thought of the chic black and red outfit we just bought at Motherhood. "That's it," I told myself, "you can't give birth tonight because your husband just bought you a trunkful of clothes fresh from the maternity store!"

Pretty soon, I would send my husband and sons out to get something to eat. I could see that they were worried, especially Lance, who wouldn't leave my bedside for long. I settled down for the long wait at the monitors, sipping water and relaxing to the sound of my daughter's heartbeat, soothingly emanating from the bedside doppler.

After a tedious four hours, I was discharged with a clean bill of health. The hospital staff determined that the contractions didn't come in an ominous pattern, so I was free to go. I also got a negative reading on my fetal fibronectin test, which detects signs of impending labor as early as two weeks in advance. At least I know this baby will make it past her 32nd week.

I was so happy to be out of there. As I walked to the waiting car, I whispered a prayer of thanks to the Lord. At 30.2 gestational weeks, it was still to early for my daughter to see the world.

And so she stays in my tummy for yet another day. I only wish I could be more familiar with happy endings. I remember the failure I felt in another LDR, when I arrived too late to prevent Lance from being born too early. In Troy's case, I didn't even make it to an LDR. Troy was born in a storage closet at Kaiser Hospital because they didn't have time to prepare a proper Labor and Delivery Room. Both of my boys were "preemies", products of pre-term labor.

It is when this happens that you realize the impact one day makes in the well-being of an unborn child. And so I silently implore my daughter to stay in her warm, wet home for as long as she can:

"As much as I love you, Loren, I am in no rush to see you, so take your time, and just keep on growing." From within my womb, I feel an answering wiggle.

And I sense through some cosmic connection that she somehow understands.