I pulled the closest binder toward me and opened it up. It was full of images and articles of the past galas. Chloe had already gone through and added sticky notes to things she liked. I flipped through and froze on a photo of me and Olli.
We were smiling at each other, laughing. You could see the love between us. He was watching me like I was the only woman in the room, and I looked like I wouldn’t have noticed a marching band pass by. We were lost in our own beautiful world.
“That’s a great picture of you guys.”
I glanced up to see Mom smiling at me. I nodded and flipped the page over. It hurt to be reminded of what we once were. I wanted to take down the happy photos around the house, but I decided to ignore them instead. Taking them down felt too dramatic and I knew the girls would bring it up. It wasn’t worth having to talk about it.
“I’m thinking of an old Hollywood theme. What do you guys think?” Chloe turned to us with excitement.
I nodded.
Madi agreed. “That’s perfect. We can find vintage dresses and everything.”
“That sounds lovely, Chloe.” Mom said, making Chloe beam.
“Thanks. I’m glad you guys like it because I might have already started planning with that theme in mind.”
I wanted to roll my eyes, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. “So, what can we do?”
“I need you to pick out invitations and send the information to the printer.” She shared a look with Madi. “And I need you to call the caterer and set an appointment with them for next week.”
“Sounds good.”
After picking out tablecloths and a DJ, the girls left to go home to their own families. Mom started making dinner while I fed Jackson.
“You know honey, if planning this gala is too much for you, I think Chloe would understand.”
I looked up and realized that she had stopped chopping vegetables and was watching me.
“Why would I do that?”
She raised an eyebrow. “I saw how hard it was for you. She can handle things. Madi is helping her and I’m sure the girls from the Pride will pitch in if needed.”
“Mom, I’m fine.”
She picked up the cutting board and slid the lettuce into a bowl. “Emma, you’re not fooling anyone. The other girls are willing to let you process and let you pretend things are okay, but you don’t have to do that with me. You don’t need to do it with them. You don’t have to hold it together for us.”
My chest tightened. She saw right through me.
She could see what I was going through. Olli hadn’t. The girls didn’t bring it up.
“Mom.” My voice cracked and I gazed at Jackson who was now asleep.
“Oh honey.” She hurried to me and sat down beside me.
“Mom, it’s so hard.”
She put her arm around my shoulder and gently pulled me toward her. “I know sweetie, but it’s so worth it.”
I shook my head. “No mom. I mean it’s too much. I can’t do this.”
She sat up, forcing me to turn to her. “What do you mean?”
The concern in her eyes was all I needed to pour out everything I’d been bottling inside. Someone was finally seeing me. Seeing the pain I was holding onto.
“I haven't said anything to anyone.” I paused but she waited, not even blinking. “I mentioned how tired and overwhelmed I was to the doctor, but he said it was just baby blues. I’d be fine.”
Her hands found mine and squeezed.
“It’s not going away, Mom. It’s been better since you’ve been here, but it hasn’t gone away. I can’t handle this.”
She nodded once. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
I debated just skimming the surface. I was scared of what she would think of me, but if I couldn’t talk about this with my mom then I had no one. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”
“Why would you think that?”
I stared down at my sleeping baby. “I...I don’t feel love.”
I was stumbling over my words and I knew I was probably confusing her.
“What do you mean, Emma?”
“Since the first time I saw him, I haven’t felt love. Or much of anything. I go through the motions of feeding him, changing him and bathing him but it’s because I know I have to. I feel obligated. I know it’s my responsibility to keep him safe and happy, but…” I trailed off hoping it was enough. Hoping she could fill in the blanks.
“What else?”
She wasn’t screaming or calling me a monster. That was a relief, but I just wanted her to understand. I hated saying these things out loud.
“When he cries, it doesn’t pain me. Like I’ve heard other moms talk about how it breaks their heart and they just want to make their baby happy again. I don’t. I just know that means he needs something. Mom, I don’t feel connected to him at all.” I blinked away the tears that were accumulating. “I didn’t have this moment where I just knew he was a part of me and felt all this love.”
Mom nodded. “What else? How do you feel now?”
I let out a sigh. “I’m so exhausted all the time. It’s been better with you here, but I just...I feel numb.”
“Not like yourself?”
I shook my head. “I haven’t since I had him.”
“Do you ever think of harming yourself?”
“No. Never.”
“Or Jackson?”
I watched his peaceful face. “No.”
“Okay.” She sat up straight. “I’m not a doctor and I never went through this myself, but your aunt Becky did.”
I was shocked. She understood what I was saying? And I wasn’t the only one?
“I think you have postpartum depression, Emma.”
My shoulders sagged. “But the doctor said-”
She cut me off. “I don’t think the doctor took the time to really talk to you.”
The appointment was about Jackson, she had just asked me in passing how I was. “He didn’t.”
Mom nodded. “I think you should go to your OB GYN or family doctor and talk to them about what you’re feeling.”
I closed my eyes and sighed. I didn’t want to have to discuss it with someone else. It was hard enough talking about it with Mom.
“Won’t it just go away on its own?”
“I don’t think so honey. At least not for a long while. Do you really want to keep feeling like this when there’s something that could help you now?”
She had a point. If what I was feeling was postpartum depression, then there was a treatment. I’d read about it in my pregnancy books, but I never thought I’d end up having it. I’d never had depression before. Maybe that’s why I didn't recognize what it was.
“Okay.”
She nodded. “I’ll call and make an appointment.”
I smiled while she got up and went to my phone. I hadn’t had someone make an appointment for me since high school. I felt like a child again with my mom taking care of me, and I didn’t mind one bit.
* * *
Mom said she wanted to come to the appointment with me to help with Jackson if he got fussy, but I was pretty sure she came to make sure I told the doctor the truth.
With each question I gave a brief, vague response and Mom would elbow me. I ended up admitting the thoughts and feelings I’d been having.
The doctor said, “I’m going to go ahead and say you do have postpartum depression and I think it was most likely caused by the trauma of the birth.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Really?”
She nodded. “Emma, you went through labor only to have a C-section and then you almost died. Add that to having to care for a newborn and recovering from everything your body went through...not to mention the hormones. I think you have PTSD.”
I wanted to argue with her. Tell her that was something soldiers or plane crash victims had exclusive rights to, but I’d heard enough stories to know the brain was a mysterious thing. It could happen to anyone at any time.
I finally nodded. “What can I do?”
/>
She seemed pleased I accepted her diagnosis. “I’m prescribing you anti-depressants.”
“Can I still pump?”
She smiled reassuringly. “Yes, of course.”
Mom squeezed my arm and I smiled at her. “Thank you.”
She nodded and turned to look back at the doctor.
“I think there’s something else that would benefit you.”
A vacation? A nanny? Could she prescribe those? “Okay.”
“There’s a group for new moms that are experiencing the same thing. They meet twice a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays.” She paused and I realized today was Thursday. Oh yay.
“So, a support group?” I couldn’t keep the doubt out of my voice.
“Yes, it’s been proven that women overcome this much quicker with a strong support system.”
I glanced at my mom then back at the doctor. “I have a support system.”
Mom patted my arm. “Yes, but these women are going through the same thing you are. They can empathize.”
I sighed and sank into the chair. Even though I was a grown woman, I didn’t think I had much of a choice in this decision. “Okay.”
“That’s great. I really think you’ll benefit from going.”
I forced a smiled and accepted the prescription and flyer about the group. I didn’t say anything until we were back in my car. I turned to my mom who was smiling back at me. “Please don’t make me go.” I felt like a teenager again.
She tilted her head. “Just give it one shot. If you hate it after tonight, I won’t mention it again.”
Ugh. Stupid logic and compromise. “Fine.”
She smiled and drove us home.
Jackson napped until it was time for me to leave for the group. He was fussy and nothing I could do was helping. Mom walked into his nursery and took him from me. Within ten seconds of bouncing exactly like I had been, his cries faded.
I closed my eyes and sighed.
“Babies can sense when you’re stressed,” Mom said.
I nodded. I knew that, but I didn’t enjoy being reminded of how awful I was at this.
“Go on to the meeting,” Mom said. “I’ve got things covered here.”
“Thanks.” I turned and headed down to my car. I sat in the driver's seat and basked in the silence, and freedom. I was tempted to just sit in the garage, but I knew I’d be found.
The group met in a conference room at the university hospital, so it only took me a few minutes to get there.
I followed the signs directing me to room eleven-eleven. The door was propped open and I peeked inside. The chairs were arranged in a circle and there were already a handful of women standing around chatting with one another.
“We won’t bite.”
I jumped and turned to see a woman, around my age, smirking like she was trying to hold in a laugh.
I stepped back from the door and nodded. “Sorry, I haven’t convinced myself to go in yet.”
She smiled, like she knew exactly how I felt. Her deep blue eyes felt familiar. Maybe it was the dark circles around them.
“I came twice before I actually walked in.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
She nodded, making her blonde bob dance around her cheeks. “I didn’t even get out of my car the first time, so you’ve already got me beat.”
I instantly felt more comfortable. There was something about her that made me feel like I wasn’t alone. Like she understood everything I was going through.
“I promise you it’s worth it.”
I glanced back at the room and sighed. “Are they going to make me talk about my feelings?”
She laughed. “Only if you want to. If you just want to listen that’s okay too.”
I hesitated as she took a step forward. She turned to me with an amused expression. “You can sit with me. I promise it’s not as bad as whatever you’re thinking.”
She was probably right. The only support groups I’d seen were on TV. The groups either cried with each other or they were rude and disregarded people’s feelings. It had to be better than that.
“Okay.”
She beamed. “Okay. I’m Addison by the way.”
“Emma.”
“Nice to meet you, Emma. Now let’s go grab a donut before all we’re left with is glazed.”
No one had mentioned donuts. They should have had that on their flyers. What hormonal, depressed woman wouldn’t be sucked in by the promise of sweets?
16
Olli
“I’m leaving in five, with or without you.” Grant’s voice called out.
I pulled on a shirt and ran my hands over it a few times trying to get rid of the wrinkles. Living without Emma meant being responsible for folding and hanging my clothes. Not my strongest talent. We found a great balance after being married for a few months. Emma hated doing dishes and I hated laundry, so we split those responsibilities.
Now, I had to do both and not doing laundry for several years had me out of practice. So far, I hadn’t completely ruined any clothes, but it was only a matter of time.
“I’m coming.” I threw my phone and wallet into my pockets and met Grant at the front door. It was hospital day for the Fury. We were going to the children’s center to visit our littlest and strongest fans.
I looked forward to this day every year. I loved spending time with the kids, but it was hard when you saw the same kids there year after year. It wasn’t that I didn’t like building those relationships, I hated that they were there. I’d met three and four-year-olds that had spent most, if not all, of their lives in the hospital. It broke my heart, and if spending the day with them brought them any amount of joy I would do it. I’d be strong like them.
“Do you think Emma’s going to be there?” Grant asked.
My chest tightened at her name. “I’m not sure.”
“You still haven’t talked to her?”
I rubbed my face. I hated talking about it. “I called yesterday.”
He seemed surprised. “And? How’d it go?”
“I asked to see Jackson and she said her mom would bring him over later.”
He nodded while staring out at the road. “That’s something.”
“She’d been crying.”
He glanced at me for a second. “How could you tell?”
“I could hear it in her voice. I could tell she was trying to hold it together, but I know her well enough to know when she’s faking.”
He didn’t have a reply. What could he say? Well it’s your fault she’s crying? You’re a terrible husband who left her to take care of a newborn alone?
Yeah, nothing he said could be as cruel as what I’d already told myself.
Talking with Dr. Elliot had helped in ways I hadn’t expected. My outlook changed. I knew where I’d screwed up and how I was working to fix it. But Emma hadn’t even let me get that far. I wanted her to know how hard I was trying to change. For her. For Jackson. But she didn’t give me the chance. Not that I deserved it.
She probably wouldn't believe me anyway. I’d been seeing the good doctor for a week. That wasn’t enough time for someone to change, but I swear it was for me.
“It’s better than her hanging up on me” I said with a sigh.
“Did she really do that?”
“No. Chloe, Colby and Kendall all have though.”
He laughed. “If you pick a fight with one you lose to all of them.”
I nodded. “I’m very aware of that fact. Normally I’m grateful for it. I’m glad Emma has that kind of support. I knew she would be taken care of, but now they’ve turned against me. They’ve built up a fortress around her and I’m worried they won’t ever let me back in.”
“She’s your wife. They can’t keep her from you forever.”
I scoffed. “You haven’t been around the Pride long enough.”
He shivered. “A week in Mexico was enough for me to see how evil and brilliant they can be. They definitely take care of their own.”
>
“It’s a little scary isn’t it.”
“That’s why they’re a Pride, right? A pack of lionesses?”
I laughed. “They got the name from the fans. They said the wives had the most team pride in all of the NHL. Soon everyone, including themselves, started calling them the Pride.”
“So not a lion reference?”
I shook my head. “Not intentionally.”
“I still wouldn't want to be in a confined area with one if she was hungry.” He paused. “Or angry. Bored. Slightly inconvenienced.”
“You picked up on that fast.”
He nodded. “I got the full immersion experience that week.”
“Not all women are like that.”
“Yeah, I’m sure they were all nice and normal until they met each other. Look at Lucy, she’s just as protective and involved as the rest of them and it’s been like two months.”
He was right. They had a weird way of indoctrinating new members. They welcomed them with open arms and let them into their secret society.
When we got to the hospital and saw a group of the Pride by the front doors, Grant froze. “Did we summon them?”
“I don’t think they work like Beetlejuice.”
He shook his head. “I’m not so sure.”
“Well, we are at a team event. One that Chloe organized. Of course, they’re here to support her.”
“And their men.”
I laughed. “Yeah, right.”
I walked away and slapped Erik on the back. “Hey man.”
He turned and gave me a half smile. If there was anyone holding a grudge against me like the Pride, it was him. Even Hartman had warmed up over the past couple of days.
“Emma’s here.”
I scanned the room looking for her long, blonde hair. “Where?”
“Chloe sent her off to run an errand, but I wanted you to know.”
“Thanks.”
He studied me for a second. “I told you so you would know to give her space.”
I laughed but stopped when I realized he wasn’t joking. “She’s my wife, Schultz.”
His jaw clenched causing it to bulge. “Yeah, that you walked out on.”
I shook my head. “It wasn’t like that. I left for her.”
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