KATE
I stand, feeling discomfort and pain down below in my nether regions. I read that it’s to be expected during pregnancy, but what I wasn’t expecting was the blood that suddenly begins to dribble down my leg immediately when I stand.
My eyes widen with alarm and I call for Weston, trying to keep my voice panic free and failing. He comes running and goes into instant hero mode, as that’s pretty much the only mode he’s run in since I entered my third trimester.
He grabs a few towels and covers the blood spots on the carpet, then wipes my legs. Wes lifts me into his arms- his new mode of transportation when it comes to me, as frustrating as it’s been getting- and carries me to our car. I slip into the front seat and buckle my seat belt, making sure to place the strap below my belly as he climbs into the car and pulls out of the garage.
“Katie, what happened?”
“You ask me that now?” I roll my eyes, trying not to panic when it comes to our daughter. All I can do is hope that she’s okay. “I don’t know. I thought I was getting a cramp, so I stood up, but when I did, I started bleeding.”
“It’ll be okay, Katie. Charlotte will be okay.” His hand rubs small circles on my knee closest to him as he keeps repeating the same phrase over and over. I have to keep taking deep breaths, so I don’t panic and start sobbing uncontrollably.
Everything has been surprisingly smooth during my pregnancy. Aside from my raging hormones, ridiculous food cravings and mood swings, everything has been pretty boring on the pregnancy front. Wouldn’t it be just my luck that something happens to go wrong now, only a couple months before I’m supposed to give birth? But I can’t think negatively like that, so I push those thoughts away, focusing only on my too-quiet husband beside me.
His brows are furrowed in thought and his eyes are focusing intently on the road ahead. I glance forward and see the hospital coming into view as he slows the car down to the speed limit. I hadn’t even noticed he’d been speeding.
It takes us a few moments to find parking, but the minute we park, he grabs the keys, comes around to the passenger seat and lifts me back into his arms, then treks into the hospital. His footsteps sound heavy and I can feel his muscles flex as they carry me and my massive globe of a stomach. It’s a decent-sized blow to my ego.
“My wife is pregnant and bleeding. It isn’t heavy, but we’re concerned.”
“Take a seat and fill out this paperwork; we’ll get to her shortly.” The dark-skinned woman at the receptionist desk says while she holds out a clipboard with various medical forms.
Weston’s eyes darken, and his voice deepens with his apparent growing anger. “You get a doctor to look at her right the fuck now.” I look around the emergency room and see that he’s drawn the attention of nearly every single person here. I bury my head into his neck out of embarrassment and listen to his deep vibrato as he talks to the receptionist. “I will fill out whatever fucking paperwork you need me to, but in the meantime, get somebody to please take a fucking look at my wife and daughter.”
“Wes,” I whisper into his ear, trying to calm him down. He never speaks to people disrespectfully, so it’s a little shocking to hear how he’s talking to the woman at the receptionist counter while dropping the f-bomb every few words. “It’s okay, baby. Please calm down.”
He looks into my eyes and nods.
“C’mon Miss.” a nurse wheels a wheelchair out for me and Weston gently releases his grasp on me as he sets me into the chair. “Here’s the paperwork needed, you fill those out and we’ll begin having a doctor check her out.”
He breathes a sigh of relief.
“Okay.”
He stays behind as they wheel me down the hall and into a patient room. It’s your everyday ER room, nothing special about it. I reach down and still feel blood, so I cross my legs and hold them together until the doctor arrives.
It doesn’t take as long as I thought it would, though, and a big part of me credits it to the fact that Weston was freaking the hell out of the receptionist- if the scared expression on her face was any indication.
When the doctor enters the room, I inhale a sharp intake of breath. It’s the same man who I’d walked out on the day I was given my prognosis. I hadn’t expected to ever see him again. This can’t be good.
“Miss Benson—”
“—Mrs. Cahill now.” He smiles but doesn’t address my interruption. “What are you doing here?” I square my eyes at him, trying really hard to not look intimidated by his mere presence.
“When you walked out of my office that day, I flagged your medical file in the computer system.” He smiles sadly. “If you came into the hospital or ER for any reason, I was to be notified immediately.”
“Why?” I look at him suspiciously. What investment does he have in my health? What does it matter to him if I refused my treatment?
“Despite most other MD’s, I truly care for my patients. I like to see their cases through to the end, regardless of the outcome.”
I sigh, looking at my fingers. He must take my sigh as stubbornness or God knows what, but he continues on, thankfully. “What seems to be your reason for being here in the ER today?”
“Some minor bleeding has been coming from my vagina. It scared my husband and me; we just want to make sure that our daughter is okay. It is our only concern.”
“Okay. I will go ahead and grab an ultrasound tech so that we can do a quick check to ensure the bleeding isn’t coming from something affecting your unborn child within the womb.”
I breathe a sigh of relief as the doctor leaves. He was unknowingly beginning to stress me the fuck out.
Minutes pass before a young woman wheels a machine in on a small cart. She goes over what the ultrasound entails but, having done this quite a few times before, it’s nothing new.
She squeezes the gel onto my stomach before my daughter’s perfect heartbeat pierces the air.
“Mrs. Cahill, everything looks to be right up to par with your baby. Her heartbeat is strong and she’s measuring right on point.”
I rest my head back, my heart fluttering with happiness. Charlotte’s okay. The woman cleans up the gel on my stomach before taking apart the machine and exiting the room. My original doctor enters again, his face grimmer than he’d been just minutes before.
“Kate, did you by any chance read up on your stage of cervical cancer?” I shake my head slightly.
“Like once. However, I really didn’t want to know much. It would not have changed my mind to forego treatment. I know what I want.”
He sighs and motions for me to lay back down again before rolling up the bottom of my navy dress once again- except this time to just below my baby bump. His fingers probe my vaginal area- at least I think that’s what’s touching me. I can’t help but squirm from the discomfort and slight stinging.
“I would recommend doing a CT scan to see how far your cancer has progressed.”
“No.” I nod my head and bring the hem of my dress back down, covering myself up. “A CT scan could negatively affect my baby. There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that I’m going to allow any medical treatment that can hurt her.”
“Kate, I really think you need to at least stay up to date with how the disease is progressing in your body. It is different for every person who goes through it. When I diagnosed you, you were in stage 3A, meaning the cancer had spread to only your vagina. During that stage, some of the symptoms include minor spotting and bleeding from your vaginal area.”
A light tapping happens on the door before Weston peeks his head in and my eyes widen out of fear.
I haven’t told him yet.
He doesn’t know.
“Now under further inspection, I believe that it could have progressed to stage 3B, but I won’t know for certain without more testing, which you won’t allow.”
“What’s going on, Kate?” Weston asks, eyeing back and forth between the doctor and me.
“I’ve made my choice.” I say, my voice wobbly and cracking beneath Weston’s scrutiny.
“What fucking choice, Kate?”
I look at the doctor with a pointed gaze before glancing quickly at the door. It seems the doctor gets the hint as he stands and discreetly excuses himself.
WESTON
“What fucking choice?” I repeat, and I see Kate’s face fall, her shoulders lightly shaking. “What aren’t you fucking telling me?”
I can feel my anger rising and I have to clench my fists at my side to keep from breaking something.
“I-I-I—” She stutters. I can’t go to her. I can’t hold her and promise her that everything is going to be okay, not when she’s hiding things from me. “I have cervical cancer.”
My stomach plummets.
No.
“What the fuck do you mean you have cervical cancer?” My heart is racing and I have to put my hands in my pockets. I really don’t trust myself to not put a hole in the damn wall right now.
“I found out the day I learned Charlotte was a girl.” She wraps her arms around herself and my heart breaks.
“You’ve—” I clear my throat, trying not to sound like I’m getting choked up. “—known this entire time? Fuck, Kate. How could you keep this from me?” I square my shoulders and try to be strong, but I can’t.
It’s a nightmare.
Cancer nearly fucking destroyed my life when my father died. She knew this. How could she look at me every day knowing she was keeping something this big from me, something that affected both of us?
“I knew you’d tell me the same thing the doctor had. You’d tell me to abort our baby so that I could start treatment. You’d tell me that we could try again for another baby in the future.” She begins crying harder, her entire body shaking as she sobs. “I don’t want another baby, I want Charlotte. It’s my punishment, Wes. Cancer is my punishment.”
“How bad?”
“Stage 3. I’m going to fight after she’s born, I promise. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be forgotten.”
I sit beside her and pull her into my lap. She buries her head in my shoulder and I can’t help but join her, each tear releasing the fears racing throughout me.
Learning that the love of your life is slowly dying tears you into pieces. It brings you to your knees, everything around you suddenly becoming dimmer and colorless. Kate is my reason for living and I love our daughter more than anything, but Kate is right; had she given me the choice from the start, I would have chosen her.
I will always choose her.
I can’t live in a world where she just doesn’t exist. I wouldn’t want to, either. It is Kate that brings immeasurable meaning to my life.
She brings so much love and laughter. She questions me and tests me every fucking day, but I wouldn’t change her rambunctious and mischievous personality for anything. Her smile, her bright blue eyes that see so much beauty around her, her caring and sweet nature that draws others to her like a magnet— Kate is life. Kate embodies all of the most beautiful aspects that one would hope to find in their lifetime.
She can’t die. I couldn’t live through that loss. Not again. It would kill me.
KATE
“You chose this for us, Kate. We are a team, but never once did you consider letting me voice my wants, my needs.” His shaky voice cracks and the shards from his pain pierce me directly in the heart.
“No, Wes. I chose this for me. This is my redemption. My way to make up for the fucked-up choices I’ve made. Charlotte is worth it.”
“How am I supposed to love her, if she’s the reason you’re taken from me?”
“You’ll love her because she’s a part of me. You’ll love her more, knowing that I gave my life up for hers and that she meant everything to me.” I kiss his cheek. “I know you, Weston. You could never not love our daughter, the perfect pieces of us both. You’re incapable of not loving her. You’ll cherish our baby girl because we made her together. She’s our miracle, remember?”
He squeezes me tightly and I struggle to breathe, knowing how much pain and heartache I’m now putting my husband through. It’s written all over his face and I know that it isn’t something I can fix with a hug and a kiss.
“I can’t lose you. I can’t, Kate.”
“You won’t. I swear.”
His green eyes meet mine, thick with emotion. “You can’t make that promise.”
~*~
Weston hasn’t spoken to me much since we’ve come home. He’s babied me much more than usual, but very little words have left his lips. He’s angry at me for keeping my diagnosis from him and I really don’t blame him.
I made this choice on my own. It was still the right one, but excluding Wes from the whole decision-making aspect wasn’t. He’s not wrong when he says he deserved to have a say. I mean, if the roles were reversed and he’d been keeping a secret as big as mine, I don’t know if I could forgive him, ever.
I know that I’m a hypocrite and the guilt I feel for hurting him as much as I have is vast. If there was a way I could turn back time and include him in this choice, I would. But I can’t.
I finish writing my last little note reading ‘My favorite place in the world is right next to you’.
I roll up the little piece of paper and close it off with a little heart sticker. I drop it into the small basket with the rest of the little notes and lift it up, resting it on my swollen belly as I carefully walk into our daughters’ nursery.
It isn’t fully put together yet, but I’ve been trying my hardest to make a dent in my to-do list so that the room will be ready for her the very minute she decides to grace us with her presence. The snow colored crib is finally put together, but the wall is only partially painted in pale mint and coral polka dots. With Weston avoiding me, something tells me it might be awhile before it’s fully completed.
I look over at her closet full of clothes and can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. So many baby tutus, dresses, leggings, baby shoes and hair accessories. I may have gone a little overboard, but it’s my job as her mother to spoil her. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I hope Charlotte takes after me with a love for all things girly and sparkly.
I hold the basket with the notes tightly in my grasp and eye the room, scrutinizing the best places to hide them without Weston finding them right off the bat.
I wrote out over 100 small little notes, each one with a declaration of love, a memory, or something I just wanted to tell him. I saw a woman on Pinterest had done this for her husband in the military and I thought it was such a sweet idea.
With my future kind of being up in the air until further notice, I just want to bring a little happiness or smile to my distraught husband. I hope that this does the trick.
My fingers graze one of the random notes and I twirl it around between my fingers before placing it within the plethora of stuffed animals hanging inside a pink draping canopy.
The next one I hide within a stack of diapers beneath her changing table. Another one is hidden in the pale pink ballet slippers I’d given Wes the day of my 3d ultrasound. Followed by one nestled in her baby mobile dangling above her crib and more scattered further around the room, completely hidden in plain sight.
There’s not much I can do to make up for my wrongdoings. I know I messed up, I’m only human. In fact, I’m fairly certain I screw up more than the average human being does, but I happened to be blessed with the only man who’s ever made me feel like I belonged somewhere and with a child who is already bringing so much purpose into my life.
Cancer may be the weight currently holding me down, but I’m going to break the chain that’s connected to me. I won’t let the fear cripple me and make me incapable of releasing my can of whoop-ass on this dreaded and life-sucking disease.
It’s not over until the pregnant woman sings, or takes her last breath.
Whichever comes first.
~*~
WESTON
“Please don’t hate me forever.” Kate mumbles quietly, the bed dipping slowly as she lays back and rests her head on the pillow.
My back is to her, but I can feel the sorrow rolling off of her, crashing against the barrier I’ve built up around my heart and chipping away at the cracks her dishonesty has created.
I can feel a gap between us, thrust up in my time of need to protect myself from the pain of the knowledge that my wife is dying.
I wish I didn’t know.
I wish I hadn’t been through this before and been forced to sit there and watch my father wither away to nothing. I watched the cancer overrun his body and his organs shut down, one by one. I watched the pain encompass my mother as she watched the man she’d been married to for 25 years- the father of her children- take his last breath. I struggled through the aftermath of what his passing left behind- anguish, heartache and tears.
Fuck.
None of us- not my mother, siblings, or I- were ever the same again. How could we be, when the structure holding us steady came crashing down around us?
I roll over, facing Kate. Her eyes are glazed over and the rest of my resolve disintegrates almost immediately. “I could never hate you, my love.”
Her arms wrap around my neck and she squirms a little, closing the space between us, her button nose resting in the crook of my neck. My left hand rubs small, soothing circles on her lower back and her small whimpers fucking rip me apart.
“I’m sorry, Wes. I’m so sorry.”
“Shh...”
No words need to be said or spoken. Being near her, knowing what’s coursing through her blood, is damn near impossible, but at the end of the day, she’s mine. As difficult as this news is for me, I can only imagine the fear that’s going through her. Kate’s going to be the one undergoing those treatments- being prodded and stuck with needles.
The reason that she chose to not tell me isn’t lost on me. The fact that she’d sacrifice herself for our daughter is worthy and courageous. God knows, I wish I could take her place. She doesn’t deserve this.
I will stand by Kate’s side and support her. I will bear the pain and struggle that she does. I will lift her up and praise her when she accomplishes a new feat. As her husband, I won’t allow her to walk this rocky road alone.
Just like in life, we’ll do this together.
Hand in hand.