My heart ached for the loss of a child that wasn't even mine. The worst part is I wasn't even 100% sure that it's life would be mourned by its mother. I'd not sat down with Emily and discussed anything since that day in her house when I'd opened Pandora's box. I had no clue to what she was thinking or feeling. I could only know what I was feeling and thinking. My thoughts, my feelings were tumultuous. I grieved for the tiny soul that wouldn't be. Its death touched my heart and wouldn't let go.
Emily was allowed to go home that evening as long as she promised to stay calm and rest as much as possible. I drove through the streets to her house with tears streaming down my face. Emily sat muted; her hands were still. She sat staring ahead. I would gaze at her face sidelong at each stoplight trying to find something anything to say but there was nothing I could say. How could I mourn for the loss of a life and still be joyous that the other lived on? Such an incomprehensible mixture of emotions coursed through me. Maybe if, over the course of the three years that I'd run the support group, I hadn't witnessed the overwhelming sadness and grief of the women who'd miscarried their much wanted and loved children, the loss of one of Emily's babies wouldn't have affected me so. But I had and it did.
I lead her to her door as if she had no real idea as to where she was. I don't know she seemed as lost as I was in knowing how to deal with this.
Her critters greeted us with much tail wagging, and ring tailing. But it had no effect on either of us. The animals even seemed to sense that it wasn't the right time for overt displays of affection. They wondered off looking let down and mistreated after only a few seconds of trying to get our attention.
The house was still and silent. Even in my deafness, I need movement around me. I will turn on a TV not really for the sound but so the stillness is gone. That was what her house felt like…still. I even wished for Jane to be rattling pans in the kitchen. You know I don't know that she even made anything that day besides coffee.
It was long after 7 PM in the evening. We both should have been hungry. Neither of us seemed to be. I stood in her living room wondering what I should do. I didn't want to leave her alone. She'd disappeared down the long hall again to, what I had assumed before and correctly, her bedroom as soon as she'd opened the front door. She still hadn't said anything to me. I stood there looking around me with no clue what I should be doing for her.
Eventually, I wandered into the kitchen and searched for the pet food. The search itself proved difficult because Emily's like 5 foot 10 inches and I'm a shrimp. All the animal food was on the second shelf of an upper cupboard. And the woman didn't seem to own a step stool. The animals had made it quite clear that they needed food and the use of the backyard, immediately if not sooner. So eventually I found a long handled spoon and knocked the cans of food off the shelf. The ferret had again decided I was its new best friend and sat quite happily on my shoulder as I opened several cans of cat food and dog food. I wasn't sure what the ferret ate at first but found some pellet type food in a sack in the garage and put it out for the little guy. He seemed happy with it so I guess it was okay.
It was only after the animals were fed and I had gone out to my car and got my book bag for reading material that Emily came out of her bedroom wearing the green terry-clothe robe from before. Her eyes were ringed in red and swollen from crying. She sat down on the couch and looked surprised to see me still there. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to."
"I don't mind," I signed back as I sat down on the floor across from her.
She didn't say anything for a while so I sat hugging my knees while the ferret attacked my shoestrings. I wasn't actively watching Emily but she was within my peripheral vision. When she moved I was aware of it and looked up. She was crying, this time in sadness instead of relief. You could see the difference in her eyes. "Talk to me Emily," I signed.
"I'm okay," she replied.
"Don't… You are not okay. No matter how you try and convince yourself that you are okay, you aren't. Talk to me. Forget for 5 seconds that I am a student and think of me as a friend and let it go."
A low keening entered into the room. I wasn't sure if it was Emily or if it was one of the animals until I my eyes returned to her after observing the room quickly. All this time I had wanted to hear her voice but not a voice of anguish. Her shoulders were shaking as all the pain and hurt came pouring out. I wanted to hug her. But I held back. I didn't want to trap her hands, her hands that are her voice. Her hands that told her story through an intricate ballet. Her hands that showed years of working in the earth, with their short clipped nails, dried out cuticles and the green-brown stains of a person at peace with nature.
I couldn't do it though. I couldn't just sit there and let her grieve so without going to her. I moved to her. Sitting on the arm of the couch, I gathered her against my body and held her while she cried. Only when her sobs came in hiccups and her arm slid away from around my back did I move away. I went to the kitchen and found some tea, herbal, and made it. Returning with it to find her wiping away her tears.
"I made tea," I signed. "You need to eat. Have you taken your medication?"
"Yes, I took my medication. I'm not hungry but I should eat. I keep craving things with salt. I'll go make something. Then we'll talk." She replied walking barefooted to the kitchen. I realized it was the first time I'd, consciously, seen her without shoes. She always wore walking or tennis shoes at school.
When she returned she had two cups of Ramen noodles with her. She handed one to me. I didn't have the heart to tell her I had long since burnt out on Ramen Noodles. I ate too much of the stuff during the regular school year. But I was suddenly famished and it work. It did meet her salt requirement that was for sure. "Thanks," I signed one handed.
After she was finished she sat her cup down and signed, "I'm sad."
"I know. I'm sad for you. How are you feeling?" I signed in return. It seemed redundant but she knew what I meant.
"I keep thing why? Why couldn't they both have lived? Was it something I did? Was it because I fell? Did I make this happen because I said I didn't want to have a baby? It wasn't true."
"No, you can't blame yourself. There is nothing you could have done. I doubt your fall caused you to lose one of the babies. The timing was just coincidental. More than likely there was a problem with the baby due to your age. It's a sad fact that as we get older nature gets crueler. It's still not your fault so don't blame yourself. You have to be strong for your other baby, the one that still has a chance," I replied wiping away a stray tear from my face.
"When I was a child I dreamed of having a family. Then I started swimming and that was my dream. It took over my life. After that I went back to school and started teaching. I thought I'd meet someone, settle down and have a family. It didn't happen that way. There never was the right man to sweep me off my feet. I gave up on the dream. I buried the idea of having a family of my own. I told myself I wasn't meant to be someone's wife or a mother. I said I never desired it. I made myself believe that it was for the best even though my heart hurt. My motto became I'm fine I don't need anyone. Then there was Jack and I let myself need him. What did I get for it? Hurt and betrayed.
"The babies… when I took the pregnancy test and it came back positive, I was afraid. I had convinced myself that I didn't want to have children and here was this test telling me I was having a baby. I took 3 tests. You saw the last one. I hated you that day. Not because you knew but because you made it real. Jane's knowing didn't bother me. I had called her after the first test convinced I had somehow messed up taking it. She bought the second test and we'd both thought there was some mistake. I'm 48.I'm too old. I took that 3rd test a week later. I was sure it would be negative and all that was wrong with me was the flu. Then you came and said there are no false positives. I wanted to be sick and I was.
I went to the doctor seriously considering an abortion. I had told you I couldn't do it, that I couldn't hurt something that was alive. Privately, I thought I would terminate the pregnancy and be done with it. It was still early. I had time. When I told my doctor that I was thinking of aborting he reminded me of something I had said to him years ago. He told me I had said that all I really wanted was to be a mother. I had told him that when I was 18 years old on my 1st visit to him. He showed me the notation in my chart. Then he said this was my chance to fulfill that dream. I knew it was the truth. He turned on the ultrasound machine then and I saw a beating heart. I couldn't destroy it. From that minute on I wanted to have the baby. He didn't tell me there were two.
Now one is gone and I feel like someone has ripped my heart out of my chest. I didn't know I could ever feel like this. I don't know whether to be happy or sad. I cry one minute because one of my children is dead and the next minute I'm crying with happiness that one of my children is alive. Will I be the mother of only one baby to the world when in my heart I know I'm the mother of two?" she asked with tears running unhampered down her face.
"Just because you lost one baby doesn't mean it didn't exist. You are still its mother. I don't know if it will help you but sometimes I have heard that if you name the baby that is lost it will help. It makes them a real person and not just a fetus that died. From the moment it is named you can freely talk about him and no one will question you. You just say it's my angel baby."
"But I will never know what it was," she signed back.
"Name it a name that could be either."
"Angel… it's our guardian angel now. It will help me protect the other one."
"Are you going to have genetic testing now?" I asked out of curiosity.
"No, what is meant to be will be. I don't want to risk losing this one too."
I smiled and replied, "I understand."
"It's late. I have an extra bedroom. You can stay there. Let me go get an extra pillow and towels," she said standing. I was surprised. I figured she'd shoo me off. Though, of course, I would have thrown a fit first.
"No, you tell where they are and I will get them. You're supposed to be resting."
"You can't reach them. I'm not use to have small people in my house. That will be changing soon." She replied with a smile touching her stomach lightly. It made me cry all over again as she went down the hall and left me sitting on the floor of her living room surrounded by her beasts.