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This is Living (Living #1.5)

Page 12

by Melody Dawn


  She’s really good. What can I say to that? And honestly, other than not liking that he didn’t ask me if I wanted to see her, I am smart enough to realize that she is needed.

  Taking Jayson’s hand in mine, I say, “I’m fine now. It was just a shock at first. I don’t like not being in control of things.”

  She immediately says, “Why do you feel like you have to be in control?”

  I want to bite my tongue off. I thought she wanted to talk about losing the baby. I don’t answer her right away. My mind goes back to 11 years ago to the events that are the cause of a lot of my being a control freak.

  Suddenly, I feel all those emotions come slamming into me. I haven’t thought about this in years. I open my mouth to speak and rather than talking, I start hyperventilating. My eyes close tightly, not wanting to see either the doctor or Jayson. This is why I hate loss of control; I feel so weak.

  “Chloe, I want you to breathe in and out very deeply. Slow your breathing down.”

  I hear her words, although they sound as if they are far off, not right here next to me. Trying to follow her directions while screaming in my mind to get a grip, I count backwards in my head to distract myself.

  Jayson wraps his arms around me and I melt into his body like I’m trying to become a part of him. It seems like years, but after a few moments, I’m able to breathe and speak again.

  In a ragged voice, I say, “I was in an accident 11 years ago after being drugged by an ex-boyfriend. I killed a baby boy and maimed the parents. I’ve always been a little OCD or a control freak, but it increased a thousand times since that happened. My control was taken away from me and my life changed forever, not to mention those that I hurt.”

  Jayson doesn’t speak…he squeezes me tighter, letting me know that he’s there for me. Even so, I hate talking about this in front of him.

  Dr. Holtzer leans forward and grabs my hand. “I can certainly understand why control is important to you. No one wants their free will taken away from them, especially not in that manner.”

  I absorb what she says and nod my head in return.

  “Do you think that colors your actions and attitudes even this many years later?”

  Again, I shake my head yes, not wanting to say the words.

  “Do you feel that you could have controlled the outcome of your pregnancy in some way, which wouldn’t have resulted in a miscarriage?”

  Geeze, is this lady psychic or something?

  Knowing that Jayson is going to hate me, I answer, “Yes, I do.”

  I feel his body jerk in response, yet he remains quiet.

  Tapping away on the screen of her tablet, Dr. Holtzer says, “Tell me what you could have done to change the outcome.”

  In a whisper, I say, “I wished I wasn’t pregnant anymore. I was tired of being swollen, my back hurt, and I hated that I was getting fat. Evidently, God took me at my word.”

  Jayson jumps in and says, “Baby, that isn’t true. You don’t miscarry because you’re tired of being pregnant. Every woman feels that way during her pregnancy.”

  I want to believe what he says, but it seems too coincidental to me.

  He continues on and says, “You’ve been asleep so I haven’t had a chance to tell you what Dr. Gibbs said caused the miscarriage. When he did your D&C, he found endometriosis and he felt like the endometrial tissue caused the separation of the placenta.”

  I’m so surprised that I turn and stare at him in shock. I’ve never had problems in that area before except for painful cramps during my period. When I mention that to Jayson, he tells me that my usual cramps from hell are an indicator of endometriosis.

  It’s a lot to take in. I convinced myself that somehow I was responsible for the death of our daughter. The belief that it was a medical problem and not my thoughts is something I want to believe in so badly.

  Both let me sit quietly and absorb the information I’ve been given. Finally, Dr. Holtzer says, “You can’t control everything, Chloe. You will make yourself crazy trying to do so. Take it from a self-professed control freak, I know because I’m guilty of the same thing.”

  I don’t answer verbally, but nod in agreement, and she asks if there are any other issues that I feel need to be addressed. This is so hard for me, but I push through. If I don’t, there is a chance that I will damage my marriage and my children…and that is something I will sacrifice my pride for every time.

  “I’m scared to be left alone,” I say softly.

  “In fact, I’ve been very difficult to live with lately. When Jayson didn’t come home after a hospital shift, I accused him of cheating on me. And when he couldn’t be at my doctor’s appointment, I told him I hated him because he left me alone again. I found out by myself that our daughter was dead. So, I lashed out at the most important person in my life.”

  Tears well up in my eyes and Dr. Holtzer hands me a tissue.

  Wiping my eyes, I say, “I’m afraid he’s going to leave me even though I know he loves me. I’m scared to death that he could find someone new, get hurt and die, you name it, I’m afraid of it. I don’t want to pass this fear on to my boys.”

  By this point, I can’t speak anymore and I bury my face in Jayson’s neck. I hear him explaining about how my parents abandoned me after the accident.

  Dr. Holtzer comes over and squeezes my shoulder. “You’ve really been through it, haven’t you?”

  It’s sweet of her say this, but I don’t want her to feel sorry for me. I tell her this and emphasize that I just want to get better for my husband and my sons.

  Leaning down, she peers into my eyes, “Honey, you have to want to get better for you first. Then the other will naturally fall into place.”

  We talk for a while more and as she gets up to leave, she says, “Right now, you are hurting emotionally and physically; this will pass. You will always mourn the loss of your daughter, but what you need to mourn the loss of more than anything is losing your parents, your independence, and all the other things that were taken away from you.

  I agree that you are better than what you were years ago. Still, if you don’t face these issues and realize that you have the right to grieve, you won’t ever move past it. I’m going to go now. I’ll leave my card and if you ever want to call and talk or come and visit, I would be honored to have you as a friend. Both of you are welcome.”

  We agree to see her and once she is gone, I lean against Jayson and think about the things she said concerning my past and how it is affecting our marriage …and possibly even Brendon and Braxton. I’m not willing to let my parents or Daniel Latham take one more thing from me. So, I take a deep breath and begin a conversation that is most likely the hardest of our married life…little did we know that it would change us forever...in the best way possible.

  Following the end of our talk, I beg Jayson to help me take a shower. Madison’s right, I do look like ass. Something I became aware of when I excused myself for a bathroom break.

  “Jayson Reece, how could you have let anyone see me while I look like the walking dead,” I scream when I see my reflection.

  “I think you look beautiful, baby.”

  I snort and say, “You’re obviously on something; even you can’t think this is beautiful,” I gesture wildly at myself.

  “Now go and use that charm on a nurse and get them to let me bathe so I can feel human again.”

  With a grin, he leaves the room and I gingerly sit down on the hospital bed to wait. Grabbing my cell phone, I shoot a message to Madison:

  Chloe: Thanks for bringing Dr. H up here to talk with me and us. Sorry, I was bitchy at first.

  Her message is immediate and lets me know everything is good.

  Madison: Don’t worry about it. I wanted to let you know beforehand, but I was afraid you would say no. She has helped me a lot and she is a good friend to have.

  Reading her message only reinforces what I feel about meeting Dr. Holtzer. She seems to want the best for me even if we’ve only just met. I hope we ca
n become good friends.

  My phone rings and I’m surprised to see it’s Madison. We text more than we talk so it must be important for her to call. “Hey, are you ok?”

  “I’m fine. Did you look in the bag I left for you?”

  What is she talking about? “I don’t see a bag. Where is it?”

  “Look over in the chair next to the door,” I hear her say excitedly.

  The chair contains a generic shopping bag with handles so I’m not sure what she is so excited about. Making my way to the chair, I peer into the bag and almost fall down from the shock.

  “Oh my fucking God, are you kidding me,” I scream into the phone.

  I hear her laughing, “Jesus, Chloe, that was fucking loud.”

  I’m too excited to answer her. I reach into the bag and pull out the new Michael Kors bag that I’ve been dying for ever since it came out. I am a bit obsessed with Michael Kors. If there was no Jayson and Michael wasn’t gay, I would bring him home with me. Hell, who cares if he is gay, I would bring him home with me anyway and he could create beautiful things just for me.

  Thanking her in a reverent tone, I tell her how much I love her.

  I can hear the tears in her voice and she says, “It’s from me, Connor, and the kids. I knew it would take too long for you to collect enough money from that stupid jar you have to buy it.”

  We both giggle at the mention of my swear jar. Then she tells me to open it and I’m crying all over again. The bag holds a beautiful bra and panty set from La Perla…she knows I’m a lingerie slut…soft track pants from Juicy Couture and one of their t-shirts spelling out the names in sequins. To round out the outfit, the bag holds blingy flip flops that I’m known for living in. As the evidence suggests, I am indeed a girly girl. Something she usually teases me about so this is definitely a special gift from her.

  At the bottom of the bag is a set of my favorite Bath and Body products along with every toiletry I will need to make myself feel good.

  “Maddie, I can’t believe you did all of this. How much did you spend?”

  “Shut up with all of that. I wanted to do this and Connor did too. I know this can’t even touch what you’re going through, but I thought that when you leave the hospital, you can at least look good.”

  “By the way, Connor was telling me about some whore in the ER that’s after Jayson…be sure and leave through their exit so she can see how great you look.”

  I laugh at the memory from last night and say, “Yeah, she stopped by last night and offered her services to Jayson; it didn’t go so well for her.”

  “I bet it didn’t,” she says with a laugh. She knows as well as I do how he can be when it comes to me or his sons.

  Thanking her again and telling her to give Connor a hug along with all the kiddos, I hang up and then try to haul my stash over to the bed. Ouch! So, that isn’t going to happen. It looks like I’m waiting for Jayson to get back.

  A few minutes later, the door opens and my nurse comes in carrying some supplies. “Hey sweetie, I hear you want to take a shower. I can do even better than that. Your hubby talked to Dr. Gibbs along with the charge nurse and he gave your discharge orders over the phone. If your incisions look good and you’re feeling well enough, you can go home.”

  With a huge smile, I say, “I’m sore, but I’m ok. I’m ready to go home and see my sons. And please don’t take offense, but the food here is awful.”

  She agrees and proceeds to take out my IV, which I am eternally grateful for. I ask her to bring my bag from Madison to the bathroom and while she’s there she also looks over my wounds from surgery.

  Pronouncing them as “looking good,” she gives me instructions about taking a shower and how to care for my incisions.

  “If you give me the ok, I will get your husband to sign the discharge papers…that way you can go when you’re done getting cleaned up.” I immediately say yes and she leaves me to it.

  Using my new bath products, I wash away the gross feeling from being in the hospital and then move on to my hair. It feels so good to wash it; it’s something that always relaxes me…one of the reasons I love going to the salon.

  I try to bend to shave my legs and cry out. That is definitely not happening. The next thing I know the shower curtain is jerked aside and Jayson is looking at me frantically. “What happened?!”

  Trying to reassure him that I’m ok and that I bent over too far doesn’t work so he takes a seat on the shower chair that I set out next to the sink before my shower.

  We talk about general things until I voice something that is bothering me. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I feel like I should be hysterically crying over losing Bailey.”

  Saying her name shoots a pain through my chest, but I refuse to not acknowledge her.

  I open the shower curtain and step out, wrapping myself in one of the provided towels as well as my dripping hair.

  Jayson takes the towel from my body and begins patting me dry. “It hasn’t hit you completely yet. You’ve been on pain medication and you’ve been dealing with heavy issues. All of it has kept you from dealing with the gravity of it.”

  He pats the skin on my stomach gently and leans down to kiss the spot he used to lay his head on every night so he could talk to the baby.

  “It’s going to be hard when we get home, but I will be there to catch you when you fall.”

  His words, while supportive, scare me because I have a feeling he is right. #ill I crash emotionally when I’m home? Whether it’s cowardly or not, I put it out of my mind for now and focus on all the beautiful things Madison sent me. I rub on lotion, brush my teeth, and with Jayson’s help, put my clothes on.

  Next, I pull my hair up into a ponytail and forgo makeup except for some moisturizer, bronzer, and lip gloss. With all of that done, I declare myself ready. As I walk out of the bathroom, I whisper to myself, “Fake it till you make it.”

  Jayson’s eyes light up when he sees me and he grabs me up in a gentle hug while telling me how beautiful I look. I laugh and tell him that he’s required to say that and he pulls me into a heated kiss that tells me he doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to.

  We stand there for a moment just breathing each other in and he leans his forehead against mine. “Let’s pick up the boys and go home.”

  As we gather up my stuff, I tell him what Madison said about going out through the ER and he disagrees right away. “No way in hell am I letting that piranha near you.” I decide that I really don’t want to see her either and we leave through the main entrance/exit following behind a nurse’s aide.

  Halfway through the ride, I’m already hurting and Jayson calls Ava asking her to bring the boys to our house while we pick up my prescription. I sleep for the rest of the way and by the time we pull into our driveway, Phillip and Ava are waiting there with the boys.

  It’s a bittersweet reunion, but I’m so happy to see all of them. We make our way into the house and after a lot of hugs and kisses, Jayson gets the boys set up with their toys while all the adults sit down to talk. Everything feels so surreal, almost like nothing has happened.

  After a while, I start yawning and my in-laws decide it’s time for them to go. Both hug me and say how sorry they are and as they walk out the door with Jayson, I call my babies to get on the couch with me. They ask a ton of questions and give me kisses on my stomach to make the “ouchies” go away, which melts my heart completely. They don’t quite understand the fact that the baby is no longer inside me and at this moment, I don’t know how to explain it to them.

  Thankfully, Jayson comes in and takes over, and I tell them I’m going to go and lie down. As I pass the boys’ room, I see the door to Bailey’s room is open. Unable to resist, I walk in and look around at the décor. Since we didn’t know if she was a girl, we bought furniture that would go for either gender.

  Walking over to the crib, I stand there and stroke the soft blanket lying over the rail. At that moment, a pain so great, it almost takes me to
my knees engulfs me as I finally accept she’s no longer with me and will never be coming home. I cry for what happened and what could have been.

  I feel Jayson’s arms come around me and lift me off of my feet. He takes me to the rocker and sits, holding me in his lap, and I finally let myself fall. Only this time, he is there with me and we face it together.

  Approximately 5 months later

  My eyes are still closed as I roll to the other side of the bed searching for Jayson’s warm body. The sheets are cold letting me know he’s been up a while. I lie there for a moment smelling the scent that’s all him on his pillow while smiling.

  We’re at Phillip and Ava’s for the Christmas weekend, along with Connor, Madison, and all of our kids combined. Jayson actually has the Christmas weekend off thanks to some string pulling by his Mama…something he didn’t even try to resist…he knew it would be important for us to be together at this time.

  My mind scrolls back through the past year and a lot of it is painful to think about. We had our trials with his residency, the change in his specialization, and of course, losing our baby girl. There were some dark days as we dealt with the loss of our daughter, but the emphasis lies not on those times rather the focus is that we made it through, making us even closer than before.

  With a lot of love from my husband and extended family, as well as a great therapist, I’m able to acknowledge that while it hurts remembering I should be holding her right now, I don’t have to let it consume me.

  Nor do I have to be perfect or have the perfect life. That includes not expecting too much of my husband even though I still think he’s amazing. It’s like he said to me more than once over the past few months: “You’re not perfect, but you still are.” In Jayson speak that means I might be bitchy sometimes, but he still loves me. Each time he says it, I smile and say, “Ditto, babe.”

 

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