Unsure what to say because I felt so lost in my own mind, I walked over to him. Standing between his open legs, he crushed me to him and I felt the warmth of his breath through my clothes on my belly. He kissed my stomach and whispered over and over, “I’m sorry. ”
It hadn’t occurred to me that he might have felt responsible for me miscarrying. If I hadn’t been so selfish and stayed with him when he needed me, I would have seen the guilt he shouldn’t be carrying. His heart was just as broken as mine was. I promised, as he did, to love each other for better or worse, and I vowed that I’d remember that.
Having a baby is just something my body was not meant to do. I see that now, but when I found out that I was pregnant that first time, it sparked some hope in me. That hope grew to something more. I was optimistic and managed to carry that baby for another week before I woke up bleeding heavily. I’d just told Ash that afternoon because I’d wanted to see an Ob-Gyn and I did. I had a scan that day and everything was fine. So I went home and told Ash that we were going to have a baby. You wouldn’t believe how happy he was. He kissed me, hugged me and swore he’d be the best father.
Then…nothing.
A late night visit to the emergency room confirmed my suspicions. The baby was gone. It left me feeling like a failure. I mean, there’s one big job a woman has in her life and that is to make life. We’re meant to be these glorious creatures. Goddesses of creation and all that shit.
Not me.
You’re damaged goods.
Running my hands down my face, I realize just how tired I am. I don’t sleep much the night before doctors’ appointments. Nodding in resolve, I say quietly, “So these other options, they won’t include me being the one to carry the baby, right?”
Smiling sadly, Tanya replies, “No, honey, I’m afraid not. ”
My lip quivers and she states, “Nat, think of the big picture. Even if you aren’t the one to carry your baby…” with a wistful smile, she goes on, “…just think of how you’ll feel when you hold a piece of you for the first time. It doesn’t matter how you get that baby, what matters is that it’s yours. ”
Tears fall down my face and I whisper, “I’m a failure. ”
Ash wraps his arms around me. I turn to face him and his soft brown eyes blaze in determination as he says fiercely, “No, you’re not. Don’t ever say that. You’re perfect. ”
And I know he means what he says. I see it in his eyes.
How can he still love me? I’m nothing but a disappointment.
Defective. Faulty. Flawed.
Tanya clears her throat and states, “Around ten percent of women in the US have troubles with conception and infertility. Ten percent, Nat. You’re not alone. I really wish you’d go to the counseling group I recommended. You’d get a glimpse of what life is like for those women and just how they dealt with similar feelings to what you’re feeling right now. ”
Moving to stand, I tell her, “I’ll think about it. ”
Tanya stands, walks toward me and takes me in a tender and motherly hug. She says, “A month. Just one month off, then we’ll regroup and go over what options are there. ”
I squeeze her and say sincerely, “Thank you for everything you’ve done. I’ll never forget it. ”
Taking Ash by the hand, we walk out of Tanya’s office and I tell myself I’ll never go back.
My heart just can’t handle it.
***
Alternating watching Nat sleep on the sofa, doing research on the laptop and playing with the dogs, I wonder if there’s anything humanly possible I can do to help my wife.
I made a decision this afternoon.
It’s not something I want to do but it’s seriously the only thing I can think of.
I’m startled out of my thoughts when Nat crawls onto my lap and wraps her arms around my neck. Resting her head on my chest and playing with the hair at my nape, she says softly, “You’re thinking so hard I can hear the gears grinding, babe. What are you pondering in that mug of yours?”
This is it. Now or never. Don’t be a pussy. Just do it.
Enveloping her in a warm hug, I tell her, “I’m going to go to therapy. ”
Her body goes rigid in my arms, and I wait for this to backfire. She looks up at me with a sweet smile, “Really?”
Nodding, I say, “Yeah. I thought we could do it together. Separately, I mean. I could do sessions about what happened to me and you could do sessions about the pregnancies. ”