I Got Your Back
of sliced fruit in front of me, but it only reminds me that our baby will never ask me for a snack I lovingly prepare. “You have to eat something.”
I went to work today for my normal shift, as I’ve been doing for the past two weeks, but I’m now in our king-sized bed with the blankets pulled over me, ready to embrace the weekend.
Since I miscarried, I’ve systematically shut everyone out; including Liam. I promised myself I wouldn’t do this again because last time it had catastrophic results, but I’m so broken-hearted, I can’t put the energy into a relationship with anyone. No one aside from Liam knows we lost a baby, so it’s not like I have anyone to talk to. As supportive as my husband tries to be, I can’t discuss it with him because he lost just as much as I did, yet he has carried on, seemingly unphased.
“I don’t want to eat.” I place the food on my bedside table and continue reading my book. But of course, in fiction, even the world’s most dangerous assassin has a happy family with children waiting for him at home. Rub it in.
“Chels, you’ve barely eaten since—”
“Stop. Don’t. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“We need to talk about it. I know you’re hurting, but isn’t it better if you talk to me? Remember, ‘When the world gets too heavy, put it on my back’? From our song?”
I glance up at the wall, zeroing in on the graduation gift I gave Liam years ago with lyrics from the same song; Always, by Panic! At The Disco. The drawing the words are written on was made by my little sister, Isla, whom I’ve also been harsh with these past few weeks, and she has no idea why.
I’m the worst. I don’t deserve any of these people in my life and I was a fool for thinking I ever did. How could I, drug addict and daughter of the most cold-hearted man to walk the earth, ever have the right to get married and live happily ever after? I don’t.
“It’s fine, Liam. I should have known better than to get my hopes up.” I swipe away the tears trickling down my freckled cheeks.
“What do you mean? You heard what the doctor said. It’s common, and a lot of women go through it. It’s no fault of yours. Even my mom said—”
“Your MOM? Liam? Your mom, what?” I throw the blanket back, preparing myself to storm off because I am furious. The sadness and self-pity I was feeling have been relegated to the back of my mind.
Liam looks at the cream-coloured area rug on our bedroom floor. “You wouldn’t talk to me, and I needed to—”
“Are you kidding me? I didn’t want to tell anyone. I don’t want everyone else knowing I’m a total failure as a woman. It’s bad enough you know that.”
“You’re not a fail—”
“Please, stop.” I’m so upset with him for telling his mother. She’s going to think less of me than she already does, and I’ll never have her approval. I’ve spent the last four years trying to prove to her I was worthy of her son. I continued with my therapy after rehab, graduated college, got a job working in a drug and addiction counselling office that focuses on prevention and early intervention, and I try my best to be a good wife. Not being able to give her grandchildren is going to make her hate me. Liam is her only child, and therefore, her only chance at grandkids.
“Please, listen to me.” He looks at me, waiting for my concession, so I nod. “I told my mom, yes, and I’m sorry for going behind your back. I didn’t know how to move forward with pregnancy loss, and I wasn’t sure how to help you.”
“It wasn’t a pregnancy loss. It was a baby loss. I couldn’t keep our baby alive.”
His corners of his full lips droop and he exhales. “Let me finish, please.”
My anger is subsiding, being replaced by guilt, bit by bit.
“She said that miscarriages are common, and it’s no fault of yours. Once your body heals, there’s no reason we can’t try again.”
I still don’t understand how he can move on so easily. It’s as though he didn’t grieve the loss of our unknown baby at all. For me, moving on is difficult and I don’t know if or when I will. “I can’t ignore the fact our baby existed. I can’t just get over it. And I can’t just try again. What if it happens again?”
Liam slides into the bed beside me, sweeping his left arm under my head and pulling me into his chest. “We’ll never forget the baby we lost, but that doesn’t mean we can’t give our love to another child. I want to have a family with you, Chels. If you’re not ready now, then I understand, but please don’t shut me out again and let this pull you under.”
I crane my neck to look at him. “I’m not going to use again if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not worried about you using again; I’m worried about you hurting again. I’m worried about you not letting me help.” He kisses the top of my head. “I love you so much, Big Red.”
“I love you too, Arizona.” My tears are still leaking from my eyes, and guilt has taken over 100 per cent of my emotional capacity. He shouldn’t have to help me. Especially not when he’s suffering the same loss.
After a few moments letting me cry, Liam says, “when you’re ready, we can do something special for our baby to say goodbye.”
His words are well meaning, but I don’t even get a word out before I’m outright sobbing on his shirt. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a good life. I wanted to, so badly,” I blubber at our lost child.
After a few moments, Liam’s shirt is more snot than cotton, but he holds me, and we cry together over the child we’ll never know but will always love.
We discuss some ideas we can do together in honour of our baby, and we decide to write them a letter. It’s something to help us grieve the loss, but also to move forward.
“Sugar.” When I hear the name we’ve chosen for our baby, I get choked up all over again as Liam reads the letter aloud. “It doesn’t seem fair, but we were never able to meet. You never got the chance to make a difference in the world, but you should know, you made a big difference in ours. We’ll never get to experience your first steps, hear your laugh, or swing you by your arms as we walk hand-in-hand, but your impact on us isn’t any less because of that. You will always be our first baby; the first addition to our family. Before we knew the pain of losing you, we knew the joy of loving you, and that will stay with us forever. We would have endured anything to have more time with you, but instead we’ll hold space for you in our hearts; a space that will never be empty again. We went from the pinnacle of happiness to the depths of despair during your time with us, and we are grateful to you for teaching us how deep love can go. We love you forever, Mom and Dad.”
When Liam sets the letter aside, he pulls me back into his arms, and together we cry ourselves to sleep.