Friday, January 07, 2005

I hate being a party pooper

There was blood on the sofa when I got home tonight. Bloody fingertips on the bedroom door and more on the bathroom door. I found her sitting on the floor of the shower stall, crying. She didn’t tell me when she left work today that she’d been cramping. She thought it was from the tendons stretching again which has caused her quite a bit of pain the last few weeks. I was at work, playing poker with the guys until 6 o’clock while she took a nap on the couch at home. When she woke up she had blood in the crotch of her panties, pants and in an 8 inch circle on the couch. She said she touched herself when she woke up and felt a stickiness which is how she got it on the doors.

She wouldn’t let me call 911. I could see the watery red stripe running from her bottom to the drain. The water sprayed on the wall above her and she cried into her knees. Her belly pokes out now, touching her thighs when she’s balled up like that. It’s obvious she’s pregnant to me finally, not just pudgy.

I turned off the water and squatted inside the stall with her, shoes and all, so that I could close the door. She said it was cold with the door open. I gave her a minute to stop crying.

She said the nurse told her the size of the tissue clots that she is passing indicate likely miscarriage. She told her to go to the ER so that they could make sure it happened as it should or perform a “D&C” if necessary. Jasmine refused. She told me if God wanted her babies he’d have to take them Himself and fuck Him for trying.

I had no argument to offer her. What do you say to something like that? Here she is, a religious woman, and she just told God to go fuck Himself if He thought she was going to hand over her babies. She didn’t give a damn how many days it took to make the Earth, moon and stars. If that bastard wanted her babies he was going to have to fight her first. And I had no doubt she’d pass out from blood loss right there in that shower, leaving me to carry her wet, lanky, unconscious ass to the bedroom and call 911, before she’d allow herself to be talked into a good ole uterine vacuuming.

What the fuck am I supposed to do? She’s a grown woman. I handed her a pair of panties, the old terry cloth robe and brought her to our bed. I check on her every few minutes, peaking beneath her robe, looking for big red circles. So far, nothing. She’s been asleep since 10:00pm. So now I’m sitting here wondering, are they still there? This baby shit is not the cake walk I thought it would be. I didn’t know there would be so much blood and pain and tears. And she’s not even 3 months yet.

The shark pool at work has been cruel to her this week. They do it with smiles on their faces, making approving comments like, “At least Jay’s doing the right thing” and “Good thing you picked a guy with money.” They make her sound like a money-grubbing charity case singling out unsuspecting bachelors for the purpose of entrapment. They laugh and joke and say “I’m just teasing” and shit, but they aren’t. They’re all bitches. Sarah is a kick ass assistant who knows her job inside and out, even better than Jasmine. But she doesn’t know how to drop it and on just a few occasions I’ve had to tell her in plain English, “Enough. Shut up.” Then she pouts for the day and it’s bygones the next day.

If she’s not miscarrying I’ll fucking wring the CO’s neck. That’s the compliance officer who went too far. Jasmine did a year end transfer of cash for me for a client who had to do so by 12/31/04 or pay a stiff 50% penalty to the IRS. She submitted her request on New Year’s Eve and the CO waited until 5:15pm to reject it, after Jazz was gone. She rejected it on the grounds that the client signature was illegible on the faded copy attached. But the CO keeps the motherfucking originals in her office. She could have looked, but chose not to. Then lied to the Branch Manager on Monday this week, saying she gave it back to Jasmine at 3pm, 2 hours before she went home.

There are no do-overs with the IRS. The rules clearly state the distribution must be taken by the end of the year and thanks to the CO it was not. She accused Jasmine and so the blame game has been going on all week. If Jasmine is bleeding now because of that whore I’ll have her ass in a sling by the end of the month. I’ll instruct my client to seek legal counsel. The firm will have to pay the penalty, plus legal fees. And the official time stamp in the database shows the rejection occurring after 5pm central time. We learned that today.

I’m so pissed off right now. Just checked Jasmine again. She’s in an awkward position and I can’t see up high, but the inside of the robe is still white.

She has every license I have. The 7, 63, 65, and insurance. She busted her ass to get those licenses and if she quits her job she has two years to either go back to work, or lose them. She doesn’t have to work. I’m confident I can take care of the four of us. But how do you tell a woman who’s not only been on her own for 12 years, but educated herself so thoroughly in her field that she might be better off giving it up and becoming financially dependent on someone else? Shit, I wouldn’t do it. Licenses aren’t like degrees. We’re paid to study for 8 hours a day, 8 straight weeks to pass the Series 7. That’s how hard it is. Jasmine did it after work on her own time over 5 months just to get the $1000 bump in annual pay and be eligible for broker pay IF her brokers chose to compensate her.

Just checked on her again. No more bleeding at all. We have an ultrasound scheduled for 9:00am. I guess we’ll know soon enough whether they are still alive.