by Aceves, Gigi
He leaves, and I stay.
Jake comes, talks, leaves, and I stay.
Cody comes, talks, leaves, and I stay.
I . . . stay.
Sometimes, I wonder if it’s possible to forget. If at some point in my misery, something just snaps and the memory of the pain is all but gone. God, help me forget! I want to forget, to not hurt. I want to not hurt, to move on. I want to move on, to live. I want to live, for what. . . . I don’t know. How can I possibly help her when I’m lost in my own grief for the second time?
Second time.
I thought half of myself died when I lost my first. Now, I’m just dead. The emptiness I feel is indescribable. To others, this may seem like an obsession or misplaced grieving. They may say, how can I possibly have such a strong sense of loss for someone I haven’t met? But that’s exactly it, I don’t need to see or hold, kiss or touch either my babies to love them, because I just do. I don’t have to breathe them in, to watch their chest rise and fall, or to hear their cries to experience the excruciating sense of loss. I wish I were given the opportunity to do all those things; however, the only opportunity given me is to feel the emptiness that comes with losing someone along with the pain their memory brings.
I let my tears and shoulders fall; I allow my knees and heart to give way, letting go of the ache for a little while. I convince myself a few seconds is all I need to grieve, but to be honest, it’s a lifetime of constant pain. I instinctively clutch my heart, wanting it not to feel as I’m willing my eyes not to cry.
Then, I feel my mother’s arms on me. I hear her words of encouragement loud and clear, “Will it to go if you find yourself hanging onto the pain. You can fall apart, Son. There’s nothing wrong with that. I’ll help you pick up the pieces, just as someday in God’s glorious time, you’ll help your child pick up the pieces, too. Such is the cycle of love.”
Then, I feel something snap inside of me.
I’m done hoping.
I’m done dreaming.
I’m done trying.
I’m just done.
Once again, I’m waving the white flag of surrender to fear.
Giving in to the lies of the past.
Granting power to the memories that haunt me.
Forget?
I will never forget.
TAMI
I refuse to count the days or remember what happened after my miscarriage. Brian comes and goes without uttering more than two one-syllable-words. He sleeps next to me, but I don’t feel his warmth, instead all I feel is pure coldness. I cook, he eats; I talk, he nods; he leaves for work, I stay home to think; and so goes our meek existence, post baby loss.
I can’t hold it any longer. He can’t quit on us without telling me what’s going on. I haven’t even been given one explanation since he decided to be in a silent holding pattern. He hasn’t asked me to leave as Jake and Cody did Trish and Roxy, but he may as well have. His silence alone is enough to send the message. I’m talking to him—no correction, I’m telling him.
He walks through the back door surprised to see me waiting for him.
“We need to talk, please.”
Brian just looks at me for a second, his eyes slightly narrowing as he takes me in. His eyes swing toward the left, then back at me, then slowly down. He knew this is bound to happen. If he’s the man I know he is, he’ll face me, and he’ll watch me put an end to this.
He stops right in front of me, crosses his arms, and widens his stance. Typical of someone who’s defensive. I see it all the time with our boys. Unfortunately, today he’s not defending me, he’s defending himself—his actions . . . or lack thereof.
I take his silence as my cue to start. “When I lost our baby, I didn’t know whether to cry in pain first or cry for our baby’s loss. My heart chose for me. I cried for our loss, for the chance to love our angel, to never find out how she’d look, to never know how his life was gonna be, to never hold her, to rock him, to sing to her, or to even put him in time out. I’ll miss all those events, you know. So not to lose my sanity, I focused on the physical pain. The moment it hit, the amount of blood that trickled down my legs, and the cramping as though someone were cutting me in half. I felt every single tug, every single pull while they cleaned me up and took my angel away from me.” I stop and wipe my eyes. “I want to forget, but I don’t. I want to hope, but I can’t, not without you hoping with me. I’m not blaming you, but every time I look at you, every time I see you like this . . .” I let my hand run up and down as if telling him to look at himself. “ . . . it reminds me of what you refuse to accept, and what I’ve accepted. We’re two worlds clashing against each other and that hurts. It hurts so much. I don’t want to hate you as you hated yourself the first time.”
“How can you accept it so easily? Tell me! Better yet, show me so I can stop feeling this pain.”
Shaking my head in disbelief, and maybe accepting the grim reality he’ll never learn to understand me spreads in my heart like a disease, contaminating everything good. “Accepting is the only way for me to cope. It’s our reality, Brian. Can we change it? No—no! Do I want to change it? Yes. I’d change it in a heartbeat, but we . . . I don’t have the power to do that. What’s left is to face the reality to heal. Don’t you get it?”
“Don’t you think I know that? My head knows it. Fuck, I smelled the blood, I saw what they did. So, yes, my eyes and my brain can comprehend, but let this . . .” He slaps his chest with his palm. “. . . . let my heart fucking grieve. Let it suffer a little while longer. Can’t I do that?”
“How long? How much longer will you live like this?” Frustration seeps through me like poison, and all reason flies out my head. “You never wanted to have one, right? You said so yourself. So, what’s all this about? For what? Maybe, we should just do this apart from each other.”
“Wow, that’s a low blow coming from you. My grief, now, has nothing to do with what I said in the past! I’ve asked forgiveness for that, and you’ve given it! So, quit bringing it up.” With his stubborn stance and all too stubborn face, he continues with a slightly calmer nerve, “We can . . . we need to do this together. I’ve lived it. I can . . . I can help you.”
“You can help me? Really? Being physically near, but emotionally detached from me isn’t helping; it’s only hurting me.”
“You just have to give me time, because up here . . .” he points at his head as he says, “this is all my fault. Maybe, I shouldn’t have touched you that night. Maybe, I should’ve been more careful. Maybe, it’s in my blood, my genes; I don’t know . . .”
“No! Don’t blame yourself. The doctor said it happens; the baby just didn’t attach that well. This isn’t something we could’ve avoided. Please, don’t blame yourself. At the very least, do that for me.”
“This is exactly what happened the first time. You can’t fault me for thinking that. Allow me to process this.”
He sounds so robotic. Not that it’s not sincere, but that it’s without feeling. It’s as if he’s detached himself from his heart—he feels so far away . . . so very far away from me. But, when you love a person, you build them up instead of tearing them down, so that’s exactly what I’m doing.
“If there’s one thing I want you to learn from this, it’s that we can’t control fate. It won’t bring our baby back, and while I’m heartbroken beyond words, I don’t want you carrying the same guilt again, Brian. It’s excruciating, it’s raw, the pain is so real and intense, forgetting is almost impossible. So, don’t add guilt into it. There’s no need for it. Our angel is in Heaven now, and I’m okay with that. . . . I need to be okay with that for my sanity.”
“And, you’re saying it’s not okay with me? Doing this alone isn’t the solution.”
I breathe deeply as I pray for more strength. “I need to heal and so do you; and doing it together, I don’t think is healthy for either one of us. I don’t want to forget or heal doing it your way. I don’t want fear surrounding me as you’ve done all of your life . . . wh
at you’re doing now. I don’t want it to incapacitate me enough that the thought of trying again paralyzes everything in me.”
“Tami, this isn’t the way to go, not by a long shot. You promised!”
Shaking my head I say, “Hiding and avoiding me for days isn’t a sign of your willingness to heal. Is that a sign of being ready to forget? I say, you’re running away.”
“But, I’m not running from you. We need to do this together.”
Wiping a few errant tears, I give him the final blow. “Together? I needed you to be there for me, but instead, you chose to be in your own world, wallowing in your own self-pity. So please, you have to do the same for me. I just need time away from you.”
His voice cracks, and I quickly steel my heart. “Where does this leave us?”
“It leaves us where we are, except we’re doing it separately.”
“Do you still love me?”
I start laughing and crying at the same time. I’m pretty sure I’m pulling a Roxy right now, and giving Brian a coronary; either that, or he’s contemplating on calling the men in white for me.
“You’re asking me if I love you. I think you should ask yourself that, Brian. Seriously, ask yourself that question, and let me know what answer you come up with.”
Quickly, he reaches for me as I abruptly stand and turn to leave. “Stop; face me, please.”
I take a deep breath then slowly face him, but nothing could have prepared me for hearing every single thing that comes out of his mouth.
“Give me this, please.”
I remain motionless, my eyes still on him. Slowly, he leans, claiming my lips with his. Our tongues dance and love on the other while he cups my face. He deepens the kiss, and it seems he’s savoring my breath, inhaling all of me.
“Forever.”
He confesses after every swipe of his tongue against mine. I start tasting his tears along with my own, my moans become whimpers.
“I love you, Tami.”
His pained voice is full of longing, but the words that vibrate against my lips, those words fill my empty heart to its fullest. He releases my lips, allowing my eyes to see the devastation that plays on his face. His thumb dances across my cheek, moving to my lips while his eyes speak silently to mine. He wipes away my tears as I wipe his that are caused by misplaced fear and loss. Reluctantly, his hand drifts away from my face . . . he’s letting go while I painfully allow him to.
I watch his finger glide down from my lip, to my jaw, then to my neck, stopping where my heart is. “I love you. I love this.” As if I’m a canvas he’s painting by tracing every dip as his fingers run along the valley of my breasts, then rests on my stomach where our child used to be. He lets his tears go, and I don’t think it’s for me—not at all. I’m witnessing his own regret for another life loss—one of his own . . . one of ours.
His palm rests against my skin as he kneels, then his lips soon follow as another painful declaration leaves his mouth, “I love you. I’m sorry for making you feel I didn’t want you; believe me, I do. I want you so badly, imagining I’m holding you is the only way to ease the pain. I’m sorry I lost you before you found me.”
He stands and lays his soft lips against my forehead; lingering there for a bit before turning around and walking away. As I watch him walk farther and farther away from me, the sound of the closing door is the sole witness of this painful decision. I finally—finally let it all out.
I need to let him go to teach him how to let go.
BRIAN
“BRO, YOU NEED TO GET your shit together, man.”
Groaning, I swat whoever is trying to wake me up.
“You’ve been doing this for two weeks, now. I can’t continue covering up for you every time my dad asks about you and my sister.”
“Jake, just go!”
“You need a serious intervention, B. The girls are worried about you. Tami’s worried about you. Do you get that?” Cody’s voice grates my nerves.
Though I try my hardest to stop it, a pained laugh escapes me. Hearing Cody say ‘Tami is worried about me’ is a sick joke and a false truth rolled into one.
“She’s worried? That’s bullshit! This is her fucking idea! Two weeks, Jake. Two fucking weeks!”
“God, can you give her some slack? She just lost a baby for crying out loud, and one that she’s been dying to have, so forgive her for asking for time!”
I stand up, going toe to toe with my best friend. How dare he belittle what the fuck I’m feeling, right now. No one . . . no one knows what I’ve lost. How much I’ve lost. How painful this loss is for me.
“And, how the fuck do you think I feel? I lost our baby, too. This is the second one I’ve lost! Second! Twice! Two! So, please, don’t tell me I don’t know what and how the fuck she feels!”
Jake pushes me, and Cody is quick to get between us, stopping what seems to be two freight trains coming straight toward each other at full speed.
“You fucking bailed on my sister, you idiot! Days! You stew, getting your head straight while she sits at home not knowing what the hell to think, and you’re complaining she hasn’t looked your way? On top of losing her child, you make her feel alone. So, please, don’t tell me not to tell you, you fucked the hell up.”
I push Jake this time, and Cody pushes me back. “Hey! Hey! Stop it! They’re in the kitchen, Brian. If they hear us fighting, it’ll just make things worse. I suggest you sit down and sing fucking ‘Kumbaya.’” He turns to Jake and points at him. “And you, I called you to act as a damn referee, not to join the shit. Do I need to call Gunny to set you boys straight, because I will.”
I turn around and walk toward the dresser trying to control my raging emotions. I never lose my shit, and every strong emotion that hits me just makes me feel as though I’m losing my mind. I honestly don’t know how or what to feel. I know she’s hurting, but I am, too. This loss is so much more painful. Maybe because it’s with her, maybe because so much of her is embedded deep inside me, I feel double the pain . . .
“I’m not discounting her hurt, Jake. I’m not. If I could take it away, you know I would. I know exactly how she feels, and trust me when I tell you, it’s a different kind of pain. I didn’t bail on her. You know me better than that. I just need a moment to get over my shit. This is her idea. I’m just doing what she wants.”
“Are you talking about guilt, Brian? You didn’t cause this.”
“Cody, we had sex before she told me, and then she lost the baby days later. It’s the same exact thing that happened to Lorraine. I’m beginning to think it’s me. I’m causing Tami so much pain, I’m afraid she hates me, fucking terrified she’s going to leave me. I’ve lost enough; I don’t think I could survive losing her, too.”
“And yet, you’re allowing misconceptions and insecurities to ruin it! How many times do I have to tell you, this is not your fault? What happened to Lorraine wasn’t your fault. Have you thought that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be? Maybe those were just the cards you were dealt at that time. You need to get over the fear to move forward, Brian. Just.Do.It!”
“Oh, and you’re the expert, right? Just because you almost died, doesn’t give you the right to tell me what the fuck to do, how to feel, or how to analyze life!”
Jake comes barreling toward me, pushing Cody aside, and grabs my shirt pulling me to him. “You want to fucking go there. I’ll take you there. Yes, I almost died and didn’t, but the damn fear was there all the damn time. The fear of dying, the fear of losing Trish. The look of fear in her eyes, the fear of being in pain, the fear of one day being the last, the fear of not seeing the fucking sun again, the fear of fucking fear itself, but I pushed it back because I had to . . . because I needed to for Trish and for myself. It’s what we do. It’s what you need to do. At some point, you have to accept what is and what was to see what’s ahead.”
With my own anger hanging by a thread, I say, “But, she didn’t lose you. I lost a piece of me. Can’t you understand that?”
“I get that, but you are losing a piece of yourself each and every time you allow fear to rule you. Don’t you get that? You’re changing what you want, and how your life is supposed to go because of fear. That’s not you, Brian.”
“You don’t know shit! How can you possibly know how I feel, huh? When you have four of yours alive and breathing! Get the fuck out!”
Jake walks out, but not until his fist hits the wall creating a huge hole in addition to the hole I’ve already created. The wall has holes like my damn heart. Cody remains stock still while he looks at me, shaking his head in disbelief.
“I don’t know how you feel, not by a long shot and trust me, I don’t want to even begin to guess; however, one thing I know, it’s killing you and destroying the woman you love. I thought this time apart was supposed to fix shit, not make it worse. You have to let this go; otherwise, it’ll only ruin everything you’ve ever wanted. I almost lost Roxy, and she almost lost me; can you afford to lose Tami? Look at yourself closely in the mirror, you’ve already lost half of yourself. Accept what is, because it’s the only way out. That’s the only door left to open, Brian.”
“You don’t know how I feel. No one does. The sooner everyone accepts that the better for me.”
“I lost my parents, remember? I wasn’t able to say goodbye, or even tell them I love them. I may not have lost a child, but death doesn’t know a name, color, age; but the effect is the same. It’s the same crippling pain that stops everything that moves in your life. We’ve seen enough deaths, Brian. Remember, on a steep mountain, a damn desert, a God forsaken country, but what do we do when we see someone die next to us? We bring them home. Bring yourself home to Tami, because she’s waiting.”
Turning away from him, I point toward the door. “Don’t let it hit you on your way out. I don’t need anyone to tell me how to fucking feel, or how to get over this shit. I’ll do it on my own.”
