TREVOR WENT BACK to work the next day, leaving me alone at home. I didn’t really know what to do with myself, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone. All I really wanted to do was cry. I’d cried so much the night before that my face was puffy, and my eyes were swollen. Dr. Andrews’ office called that afternoon to check on me. He wanted to know if I’d started bleeding yet or was feeling any more cramps. The way the nurse talked to me made me wonder if she even cared. She was so clinical, but I’m sure I’m not the first woman to go through this. I answered her questions numbly as I stared at the wall in the bedroom. Nothing had really changed in the past twelve hours.
She’d told me they’d call back the next day and set me up with an appointment at the hospital if nothing had happened. Just the idea of what they wanted to do made my stomach turn. I knew it was better for my health, but hadn’t I suffered enough? Now I was going to have to go through this too.
After breaking down a few more times, I finally gave in and called Morgan to fill her in on what was happening. I knew she’d gone through the emotions of the situation when she thought her baby had died in childbirth. He hadn’t; in fact, I don’t know how she ever forgave Taylor for keeping that from her, but she did grieve. It took all of ten minutes before she was knocking on my door. We spent the afternoon talking and crying together. I didn’t know it then, but she was going to be the one person who could save me.
LATER THAT NIGHT when I was lying in bed, in the dark, again, Trevor crept into the room. “Honey?” he called out softly. I ignored him as I stared at the darkened ceiling. “Are you awake,” his voice grew louder as he closed the door and moved closer to where I was lying. I felt the bed dip as he sat beside me. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. I don’t think he knew that I was awake or he may not have been so honest. “I know you wanted this baby. I’m sorry you’re going through this. I wish there was something I could do to help you,” he sucked in a long shuddering breath before he shoulders began to shake. He didn’t make a sound, but I could tell by his actions that he was doing the same thing I’d been doing all day…crying for our child.
Once he got control of himself, he laid down beside me. I let him pull me closer and finally relaxed enough to drift off to sleep. I didn’t think about it then, but the cracks that had begun from before conception of this baby were slowly widening. The loss of this child was slowly breaking us, and I was powerless to stop it.
THE LAST FEW days have been spent in a fog. Other than listening to Sharron cry, I’ve been going through the motions with nothing really sinking in. I know it’ll eventually get better, but as I watch her pull away from me I worry that I won’t get her back.
When I left for work this morning, she was curled on her side in bed. Other than getting up to use the bathroom, she’s pretty much stayed in bed for the last two days. I wish I knew what to say to her, but everytime I try to talk to her she pulls further and further away. I get little to no answers, and more tears than I can handle. What Sharron doesn’t realize is, I lost this baby too. I’ve spent all this time trying to keep it together for her, but I lost him too. I can’t tell her that though because it’ll just upset her more. I feel like I can’t talk to her about it, like I have to hide my feelings because one of us has to be strong and right now it’s not her. I’ve got to be the rock here.
Ty had stopped in about an hour ago and asked me to lunch. I think I agreed to go, but I don’t really remember. I’ve been staring at my phone waiting for Sharron to call me back. Every day I call her in the morning just to say hi. It’s always been our thing, and she always answers, only today she didn’t. I assumed she’d call back. Maybe she was in the bathroom, or asleep…she’s been doing a lot of that lately.
I never expected to hear the words that came out of her mouth when she finally did call me. “You need to come home,” she sniffed as her voice cracked.
“What? Why? Are you ok?” I stopped and snapped my mouth shut after the words left my lips. Of course, she wasn’t ok. I knew this.
“Dr. Andrews called. I have to go to the hospital. I’m gonna need a ride home,” her voice held no emotion as she paused on the other end of the line, waiting for me to respond.
“Ok. Give me thirty minutes. I love you, Sharron,” I tried to make her hear me. I’d said these words every day since I’d known her and up until two days ago, she’d said them back. Just like yesterday, the sentiment went unanswered.
“Thanks,” she clicked off the line and I sat there staring as I tried to piece together what happened. I knew I needed to not think so hard about it. She was grieving, and everyone grieved differently. Once she’d had time to heal and move past this, things would go back to normal.
When I arrived at home Sharron was sitting in the family room with her purse in her lap. She slowly stood when I stepped through door and began tugging on her coat. Without even looking at me, she shuffled past me and toward the front door. I watched as she numbly moved toward my car. The snow was falling softly and her hair was being tossed around by the wind blowing. It was a somber day and I was at a loss. I had no idea what to do or say to comfort her, and I didn’t know why she was suddenly shutting me out. Her eyes never met mine for the entire drive to the hospital.
Once we checked in, she sat in a chair as far away from me as she could get. She kept her head down, and when they called her back, she refused to let come with her.
WHEN THE NURSE called my name and Trevor stood up, I shook my head and held my hand up. I didn’t want him there. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew he didn’t understand how I felt. He couldn’t. He wasn’t the one with a baby inside him. He wasn’t the one that knew it’s heart wasn’t beating and it was my fault.
I’d been running over everything since I found out I was pregnant. Maybe I slept wrong, ate wrong; maybe our romantic night in front of the fire did this. I didn’t know how to explain it, but something I’d done over the past thirteen weeks had done this.
“You can put your things in here,” a nurse handed me a plastic bag. “We’ll give them to your family.” She placed a gown on the small gurney in the room and then disappeared.
I never understood why hospitals were so cold. Why did doctors want subzero temperatures where they worked? It was freezing, and once I changed and climbed onto the gurney, I pulled the blankets all the way up to my neck. A different nurse came in the room within a few minutes and began the process of drawing blood and placing my IV.
“How are you today, Mrs. Cook?” he smiled as he tightened the elastic band around my arm.
“My baby doesn’t have a heartbeat,” I whimpered as my lip began to quiver and the tears started falling all over again.
The nurse’s smile dropped and was replaced with sympathy, “I’m so sorry.” He went about completing his job without any more talking. When he left the room, I leaned back and stared at the ceiling. It was the first time since all this happened that I had uttered those words. I’d told Morgan and Trevor about the baby, but never said anything about it not having a heartbeat. This made it real, and floodgates opened at the same time the door did. Dr. Andrews was watching me as he made a couple notes before directing the staff where to roll me. When we breezed by the waiting room, Trevor was standing there watching.
“I’m so sorry,” Dr. Andrews nodded to Trevor.
He pressed his lips together and nodded a thank you as he eyes swung to me. He mouthed a silent ‘love you’ before turning to sit back down. The next thing I remember was a nurse squeezing something into the IV in my hand, and then darkness.
IT WAS A little over an hour before I could see her. When they had finished, Dr. Andrews came out to let me know everything went fine and Sharron was in recovery. He said she might have some cramps for a few days, but she should be back to her old self by the next week. Physically, that sounded about right, but mentally I knew we were in for a long road. Sharron had checked out days ago, and I’ve been trying ever since to help her. I’m running out of ideas and am at a loss as to what to say.
“Honey?” I called when I finally made it back to recovery. I was surprised to see she wasn’t lying in the bed. I pushed back the curtain, and saw her standing by a chair attempting to get dressed. “Let me help you,” I rushed over to her and tried to take the bag she was holding.
“I can do it myself,” she scowled as she sat down and slipped on her shoes. It was the most she’d said to me in days.
“You need to take it easy. You just came out of surgery where you were under anesthesia.” I attempted once again to help, but she batted me away.
“I’m fine. Can we go home now,” she reached for her coat, completely ignoring that I was there before shoving the bag she’d been holding into my arms.
“Yes,” I sighed as I tentatively wrapped my arm around her for support. At first I thought she might push me away, but instead she sunk into my side.
“I just want to go home and sleep,” she mumbled and sniffed at the same time.
“I’ll take you home, baby,” I murmured as I guided us back out to the car. I had no idea where this hostility was coming from but it seemed like Sharron had moved into the next stage of grief…anger.