Authors: Heather Topham Wood
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College, #Sports, #Contemporary Fiction
“But I thought we had reached a turning point when I came over to watch Blake’s game. In theory, maybe things should be weird between us, but that doesn’t mean they have to be,” she pressed.
“We’re
fine
. Honestly. I’m just coming down with something, maybe a nasty cold. I’ll call you soon,” I said in a rush. I heard the argument on the tip of her tongue, but I disconnected before she could continue.
I fell back onto the couch. I was drained. I wanted to close my eyes and wake up with an easy solution laid out before me. Could I be a mother at eighteen? Would having Wyatt’s baby keep me from my promised future with Levi? Was I wrong to fantasize about a life with Levi? A life where he loved me and accepted the baby I was carrying as his own?
I needed to tap into my inner strength. I had to be sure I’d be able to raise a child—regardless of my romantic status.
My heart didn’t have the answers to the questions. And I was afraid I’d never my find my way back to the path I was intended to travel.
***
Something was wrong. I had fallen asleep on the couch and I woke up to a racing heart. My thoughts were jumbled as I tried to get a grip on my surroundings. I was plunged in total darkness and had clearly lost hours to my impromptu nap on the couch. I blinked my eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of a half-remembered nightmare.
I had a headache before I had drifted off and the pain seemed to intensify since I awoke. The throbbing was excruciating and I found only mild relief by massaging my temples. A new pain in my lower back caused me to wince as I rose to a sitting position. I clicked on the lamp and shielded my eyes with my hand as I adjusted to the sudden illumination. I felt lightheaded and disoriented and couldn’t seem to get my bearings. I put a hand to my lower back and rubbed at the spot where the pain seemed to radiate from. The discomfort was worsening and I guessed I’d slept in an awkward position.
Eventually, I forced myself to my feet and walked to the bathroom. Aspirin was stored in the medicine cabinet and I hoped it would offer quick relief. I refused to look in the mirror as I turned on the light. I’d been afraid of my own reflection for some time. I was terrified to face whom I had become.
I swallowed the aspirin dry. Then as the room started to sway, I put a hand on the edge of the porcelain sink. The wrongness inside of my brain seemed to seep out and was affecting me everywhere. I cradled my midsection and sat down on the toilet seat. I rocked back and forth, trying to soothe away the suffering taking hold of my body.
Once I stilled, I gazed down at my lap. That was when I first noticed the blood—dark and angry swirls of crimson staining my light-colored sweatpants and causing my panic to swell. My scream was silent, but I felt it reverberate deep down into my core. I could physically feel the loss—feel something I never thought I wanted being torn away from me. I never felt more alone in my entire life.
A miscarriage doesn’t happen all at once. Blame my ignorance, but my assumption was there would be blood and pain and it would be over within minutes. I would have the emotional scars, but physically I’d be the same I was eleven weeks ago. But that wasn’t reality. Reality was blood—so much blood I felt like I would bleed out at any given moment. The pain I could take—I seized onto the sensation and wouldn’t let go—because I felt like I deserved punishment. I had wished the pregnancy away and I was paying the price.
But the blood made everything too real. I didn’t want to see the loss, be forced to have physical proof that the past two and a half months had actually existed. And although the emergency room doctor prescribed me a medication to make the process go quicker, a kindness I probably didn’t earn, I felt time slowed down as I waited for the bleeding to finally stop.
I went to the hospital on my own. I didn’t remember the actual process of dressing and driving to the emergency room, but somehow when my brain shut down, my body cooperated. The thought of calling anyone to come along never crossed my mind. Casey and Levi would rush to my side and offer me sympathetic smiles and say all the right things. But my suffering needed to be a solitary act and I didn’t want them to steal away my pain.
The nurses spoke and spoke, but the words floated over my head. The only word I could make out was miscarriage.
We’re sorry—you’ve had a miscarriage. Miscarriage.
The word should’ve brought relief. The decision had been taken from my hands. Pregnancy over. Problem solved. But relief was elusive. Instead, I felt a soul-crushing sadness causing hot tears to stream down my cheeks.
The hospital gave me more papers to read, more pamphlets to pore over. But the literature didn’t provide instructions on how to move on from losing something I thought I never wanted in the first place.
The hospital didn’t keep me long. Watch and wait were the staff’s parting words. Watch for signs of infection. Wait for the blood to stop flowing. Watch me slowly lose my mind. Wait for me to dissolve into a puddle overflowing with my self-indulgent tears.
I likened my despair to crying at the funeral of an enemy. How could I be sad for something I wished for so badly? Hadn’t I told myself again and again how having a baby was a mistake?
I arrived home as the sun was rising. From my front stoop, I watched the sun climb gradually until the fiery ball came into full view. The morning was sunny and bright and I waited to feel like I was on the cusp of a new dawn. Instead, I turned my back on the sun and walked into the dark solitude of my apartment.
Levi was likely just getting off his graveyard shift at the college. I could dial his number and before I could succumb to my own dark thoughts, I’d be safe in his arms. He’d make me forget everything and make me hopeful again. But I didn’t crave optimism. I wanted to wallow in my own shame and guilt.
Maybe I was irrational, but I felt like the miscarriage was my fault. I had somehow wished away my pregnancy. I had wanted to start over without being tied to Wyatt. I had wanted freedom. And someone out there had listened.
I couldn’t explain why I felt the way I did. I hadn’t fully committed to having the baby, but I hadn’t been adamant about an abortion either. I’d been floating in an in-between space. But I had
options
before. They may have had limitations, but they were still out there.
I’d been changing and evolving too. I was a different girl than the one who had taken the pregnancy test. I was a girl in love. The unlovable girl who couldn’t love had fallen hard. Fallen for a boy who made me believe he’d love me no matter what. He’d love me whether or not I had another man’s baby.
The complications were no longer there. The obstacles blocking my happily ever after with Levi were removed. But I couldn’t celebrate. I wouldn’t allow myself to find a silver lining. I was a monster. And monsters couldn’t be loved.
***
The phone rang. The text message alert sounded. Noise and more noise disturbing my haze. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t eat. I just lay still on the bed and stared at the walls. I didn’t cry. I had left all my tears behind at the hospital.
Time passed and I didn’t bother to pull myself together. I didn’t have the energy to do anything, but stay rooted to one spot. Watch and wait. Watch the world go on around me. Wait to not feel hollowed out. All the empty space inside left room for the darkness to slip in and overtake me.
By mid-afternoon, the ringing got to be too much. I shot off a generic text to silence the sound.
Not feeling well. Getting some rest. Call you soon.
Copied and pasted the same message to my parents, Blake, Casey and Levi. Levi’s reply came first.
Thinking of you. I love you.
How could a girl ever be worthy of a man like Levi Caldwell? Perfect from the inside out. Girls thought they wanted the bad boys—the ones who couldn’t be tamed. But they were fools with broken hearts in their futures. I wanted the boy who never pretended. He offered himself up fully and wholly without asking anything in return.
My fingers froze over the keys. They itched to type out:
I love you. I need you. Save me from myself.
But instead, I shut the phone off and buried it inside my pocketbook.
To silence my brain, I considered trying to do my coursework. Finals were around the corner. If I didn’t start studying, I’d be lucky to squeak out low Cs in most of my classes. I imagined how happy my brother would be to receive my next semester bill alongside an academic probation letter.
I set out the books on the kitchen table and looked at them in a detached way. I wanted to care about college. I wanted the same drive to return that led to my acceptance to Cook University. But I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t concentrate on anything except the throbbing, never-ending hurt.
Nervously, I pulled at the strands of my hair as I heard the doorbell of my apartment. I stayed locked to my chair. The doorbell rang again. With the lights on and my car parked out front, I couldn’t exactly pretend not to be home. I guessed my text about being ill hadn’t kept everyone at bay.
I checked the peephole and felt my chest tighten at the sight of Autumn waiting outside. The porch light cast a soft glow on her features and made her golden hair appear alive as the light danced over the strands. She was warm and kind while I was cold and distant.
Fire and ice.
Weren’t the worst offenders in hell purportedly bound in lakes of ice?
It was instinctual to open the door. The same way I had the instinct to call her after I left the dorms. I hadn’t stayed away from Autumn because I didn’t like her. I stayed away because wanting a friendship with Autumn Dorey was something I wasn’t allowed to covet.
“Hi, I know you’re sick, but I thought I would drop off soup,” she started, holding up a white paper carry-out bag. “I talked to your brother and we were both worried. So I was out and decided to swing by—” She stopped midsentence as alarm snuck into her features. “Delia, what’s the matter?”
“It must be the flu or something—”
Autumn held up a hand to silence me. “Delia, you’ve been crying. What happened?”
“Thanks for the soup,” I said hurriedly. “I’ll call my brother as soon as I’m up to it.” I started to shut the door. I stopped as I saw Autumn’s foot land with a thud on the doorstop.
“Did something happen with you and Levi? Casey said the two of you were getting close.” Although I hadn’t invited her inside, she came through the door. I stepped aside to let her pass. She closed the door behind her.
“No,” I murmured. I thought I was done crying, but being confronted by Autumn was making my tears hard to keep away.
Autumn’s hand touched my shoulder as I tried to look anywhere but at her face. “Delia, you’re scaring me. What’s the matter?”
“Do you ever hate being a girl?”
Autumn’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Do you feel like the world is unfair to girls?”
She seemed to consider the question. “This is impossible for me to talk about with you.”
“I understand,” I said in a choked voice. “Who am I to ask you about how fucked up the world is to women?”
“This obviously isn’t about me,” she said. “Why don’t you tell me why you hate being a girl?”
Frustrated tears poured out of me. I longed to be the same mechanical girl I had been before—the one who went through the motions and who protected herself from feeling too much. I was a broken faucet and each emotion I tried to keep at bay was leaking out in a steady flow.
“I had a miscarriage,” I said and closed my eyes. “I was pregnant. I found out a few weeks ago and last night I lost the baby.”
I didn’t stiffen as she went to hug me. I didn’t deserve to feel better, but I couldn’t bear the pain alone much longer. The sadness was being replaced by anger. I could cast blame to any number of people, but I was furious most of all with myself for always refusing to face reality. I should’ve handled things better and not pretended to everyone that I was okay.
“Was the baby’s…?”
“Wyatt. He knew and wanted me to get rid of it. I went to Planned Parenthood, but I couldn’t make a decision. I thought about an abortion. And adoption. And being a mom. I couldn’t make up my mind.” I wiped at my face. “I must sound like an idiot. The normal thing to do would be to forget all about the pregnancy and move on with my life.”
Autumn gave me a tighter embrace. “There’s no normal way to react, Delia. You feel the way you feel.”
“I just didn’t expect to feel like I’ve lost something,” I whispered. “If I didn’t want to be pregnant, why do I feel so broken up inside?”
“You’re allowed to grieve. You’re allowed to hurt and to feel sad.”
“I was so sure about the abortion. I kept imagining what kind of father Wyatt would be and what kind of family I was bringing a child into.” I looked into the distance and added, “But then I started having these feelings for Levi. And maybe I started to get these crazy ideas. Like maybe I could have this baby if I had Levi to support me.”
I went to the couch and Autumn followed me closely. We sat down and she was quiet as she waited for me to start talking again. “Why did I lose the baby at the exact time I started to picture raising a child with Levi?”