The past week has gone by in a blur. I haven’t talked to anyone, my mom and Brian included. They both call and text me daily, but I just can’t bring myself to respond. Becca has also tried to call and text me a few times. I don’t think Brian has told her what happened because if he had, she’d either pull what he did and fly here, or she’d be blowing up my phone until I finally did reply to her. I know I need to tell her; I just don’t know how. She’s going to jump in my shit if I do, especially when she finds out I’ve all but pushed Brian away.

I actually have to make myself presentable and leave my house today, as I have a follow-up doctor’s appointment with my OB/GYN. They need to make sure my body passed everything, and to make sure I’ve healed properly. After showering and forcing myself to eat something, I head out.

The appointment goes as well as can be expected. My doctor wants me to see a counselor for how depressed I’ve become, so I set that appointment up with the front desk before I leave.

I walk around outside before I get in my car to leave; breathing in the fresh air is nice and lifts my spirits slightly. I don’t even realize it until I pull into their driveway, but instead of driving home, I’ve driven to my parents’ house. I guess my subconscious knows I need to stop pushing everyone away.

My mom is a little surprised when I walk inside. She’s in the kitchen putting groceries away, when I take a seat at the island.

“Kinley! I’m so happy to see you out and about. How are you feeling today?”

“I just left my doctor’s appointment.”

“And how did that go?”

“Everything was fine. My doctor wants me to see their counselor. She’s worried about my mental state. Worried I might be developing post-miscarriage depression.”

“I think that’s a good idea, honey.”

“I made an appointment before I left. I see the counselor tomorrow.”

“I’m glad they were able to get you in so quickly,” my mom says, coming around the island to pull me in for a hug. I didn’t realize until this moment just how much I needed that from her. I’ve been so set on pushing everyone away when maybe, just maybe, I actually need them by my side.

* * *

I arrive at my doctor’s office for the first appointment with the counselor. I don’t exactly know what to expect, since I’ve never seen anyone in this fashion.

I’m escorted into a room, and left to wait for the doctor.

Moments later, the door opens. “Kinley, it’s nice to meet you,” Dr. Emmerson greets, reaching her hand out to me. I weakly shake her offered hand, before dropping mine back into my lap as she takes a seat in the chair facing me.

“I understand you’ve just suffered a loss of your first pregnancy, and Dr. Prat referred you to come see me. Her note here says she was worried about you and how you’re handling the loss. Can you tell me about you a bit? Your relationship with the baby’s father… I see it says here you’re single,” she says, looking down at my paperwork.

“Brian and I are… were together. He was so excited about this baby, even if it was a shock to the both of us. But he isn’t in the picture anymore,” I say on a choked sob. I reach out, grabbing a few tissues from the box next to me on the side table.

“When did this relationship end?” she asks, making notes on my paperwork.

“I’ve pushed him away since losing the baby. I don’t know how he can stand being around me, knowing that my body failed us.”

“So, he hasn’t ended this relationship?”

“No, but I’m just doing us both a favor by ending it now. I know the resentment will just build and create more problems down the road.”

“And what makes you feel that you’re doing him a favor? What is there for him to resent you over?”

“Losing our baby. How could he not be mad at me about that?”

“Has he implied in any way that he’s mad at you?”

“No,” I whisper, another sob escaping my body.

“Kinley, no one blames you for this unfortunate event. Unfortunately, ten to twenty percent of pregnancies end in miscarriage before the twenty-week mark. We still don’t know why this happens, or what can be done to stop it from happening. But you need to remember that this wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything to cause it. As much grief and responsibility you’re feeling over it, you need to remember that no one is blaming you. While you need to grieve in your own ways, it’s also important not to push your loved ones away. Lean on them. Let them help you through this difficult time.”

Dr. Emmerson pauses for a few moments, allowing her words time to sink in before speaking again.

“I looked over the paperwork you filled out, and based on your answers, I feel comfortable diagnosing you with post-loss depression. I think a regiment of counseling sessions, along with short-term medications, will help you through this grieving process until we can find your new normal. I’d love to be able to tell you that we will get you back to how you were before this happened, but no one can ever really go back to how it was before a loss such as yours. It will always stay with you in some form. What we strive to accomplish, is to get you to a new normal.” She pauses, looking over a few more details in my chart. “I’d like to see you once, maybe twice, a week for the next couple of weeks, as well as start you on an antidepressant. How are you sleeping lately? Do you feel like you need a sleeping aide?”

“I’ve been sleeping a lot, actually. I usually don’t want to even get out of bed.”

“Knowing that, I don’t think a sleep aide is needed. I will encourage you to get back to your normal sleep schedule as soon as possible, though. Keeping yourself locked up inside can worsen your depression symptoms. Getting outside, interacting with friends and family, will help you.

“I’d like to see you back on Friday. Between now and then, I have a small homework assignment for you. I want you to leave your house at least once per day. Interact with someone close to you. Get outside and enjoy the fresh air, even if it’s just a short five-minute walk around your neighborhood.”

We finish the appointment and for the first time since waking up in that puddle of blood, I feel like I might actually overcome this, with Dr. Emmerson’s help.

Since I had already seen my mom before seeing the counselor, I decided to focus on that. I still can’t bring myself to answer Brian’s daily calls and texts, though. Like clockwork, he sends me a text every morning and calls me that night, each time begging me to let him know how I’m doing. I could hear the hurt in his voice, once I brought myself to actually listen to his voicemails. Never once did he ever get angry or yell at me, but the sadness and defeat were clear in his voice. I’m hurting him, but I don’t have the strength to stop. I need him to realize I’m not the girl for him. Perhaps, if I just ignore him long enough, he will stop trying to get me to talk to him. Maybe he will finally forget me and move on with his life.

* * *

Seeing the counselor the past few weeks was exactly what I needed. I’ve been cleared to return to work, and am doing so tonight. I talked to Becca finally, but never told her what happened. She still doesn’t know, as she never said anything to me. She hasn’t even asked about Brian, so I’m not sure if he has even told her that we’ve broken up.

As for Brian, his daily texts and calls eventually started slowing down. He still sends me a text every couple of days, and the last one said he didn’t know what else he could do to get me to talk to him, but that he would be there when I was ready. When I read that, I collapsed on my bed, and the tears and guilt hit me like they did in the first few days after the miscarriage. I had no one but myself to blame. I did this. I’m the one who pushed him away. I’m the one who’s refused to call him back, or even reply to his text messages.

Life isn’t fair, and I have to learn to move on. As much as I didn’t want to talk to him, I kept up with the team and watched them make it to the second round of the playoffs, where they lost to the Blackhawks. Once the season ended, I was worried that Brian would show back up on my doorstep. So, when the days ticked by and he didn’t, I started to think he finally got the message that I was done; that we were done. He could move on with his life.

What I forgot about was the fact that I would have to see him at the end of this month, at Scott and Becca’s wedding. I’m her maid of honor and Brian is one of the groomsmen, which means we will have to see each other on a nearly constant basis during the wedding festivities. I’m going to have to figure out a way to keep my emotions in check the entire time.

I make it through Becca’s bachelorette weekend, which was held at a spa in California. I somehow avoid all talk of Brian and me, and was able to keep the focus on Becca. I know she knows something’s up with me, and I’ve promised myself that I will tell her after the wedding, once she’s back from their honeymoon. I just don’t want to take any focus off their big day. They deserve this so much, and I can’t wait to see my best friend married to her high school sweetheart after all these years.

The weeks leading up to the wedding keep me busy, between work and helping Becca with all the last-minute details she’s got to take care of. Before I know it, everyone has started to arrive. Over the next few days, we all have things going on. Thankfully, Scott is keeping the guys busy with “guy things”, so I don’t have to worry much about seeing Brian.

The wedding day arrives, and I fulfill my duties. I did my best to keep a distance between Brian and me all day and into the evening. I would search for him in the crowds while standing in the shadows, trying to hide so he wouldn’t see me. I could tell he was putting on a smile to make it look like he was happy, but I could also see the hurt, and I knew I was the one who did that to him.

As the evening wears on, I’m still standing in the shadows, not paying attention to anything happening around me. My best friend is married, she’s cut her cake, danced with her husband, dad, and father-in-law, tossed her bouquet, and is finally just enjoying the rest of her reception. I’m so lost in thought I don’t see Brian approach until he’s right in front of me, blocking me in the corner.

“Hi,” he finally says, taking a drink of whatever is in his glass.

I look up into his eyes. Huge mistake.

“Hi,” I finally whisper out.

“I have a lot to say to you. Please let me get it all out before you walk away,” he says, sadness, and a little fear, showing in his voice.

“Okay.”

Before he starts to talk again, he reaches out like he wants to touch me, but stops short of cupping my cheek. Instead, he tucks a few hairs that had come loose from my updo behind my ear before finally taking a step closer to me.

“Kinley, I…” he stutters, stopping to take in a deep breath before starting again. “Kinley, I know you were hurting, and I wish I could take that pain away from you. I know you coped by pushing me away, thinking you were doing me a favor somehow, by letting me go. I told you before I left that I would fight for you, for us, and I meant that. I let you have your space, I let you ignore my texts and calls for weeks. But I’m here now, and I will not leave until you at least talk to me.”

He cups my cheek, forcing me to maintain eye contact, before he continues. “I need you, baby. I need you in my arms. I need you in my life. You became my home. Everything felt right when you were in my life. When you were in my arms, my life felt centered. I don’t blame you for what happened. There was nothing you could have done to stop it, nor did you cause it, and I know you know that deep down inside. It was the most painful thing I have ever gone through, and it kills me that you had to suffer the physical effects of it. I still love you, though. I still want a life with you.”

The tears are pouring down my face; have been since he started talking. I can’t avoid him when he’s standing here in front of me, pouring out his heart. But how do I even begin to apologize and fix this? Us?