Chapter 29

"WE TRIED EVERYTHING to save her." The words played on my mind over and over again. They tried everything, but it wasn't good enough. I want my baby. I want our little girl.

Since we came home from the hospital, Art has never left my side. Whenever I sob in silence, he whispers how much he loves me. He kept repeating in my ears that we would get through this together. But how could we? Could we?

It had been a month of longing and indescribable sadness. Judging by the tears I had been crying, I never thought I had that much water inside me, more so the patience Art had in him. In my heart and mind, I am aware I'm not the only one who has lost a child. I'm aware Art and I are together in agony and pain this experience has brought. But the feeling of unbearable pain, this unexplainable hurt of carrying a child for nine months, feeling her movements, sharing a heartbeat, which in the end seemed to be for nothing. It was like a gigantic ball of torture, heartbreak, and heartache hitting me in all parts of my body and crossing over through my heart and soul.

It felt endless, boundless, and irreparable. There were days when I felt nothing. When there is no pain, I feel like I am floating in a never-ending blankness. There is nothing to feel, just numbness. My brain doesn't even seem to exist. It's like a clean sheet of paper no one wants to write on.

Avery comes and sees me every day. Even without words, we feel each other's pain. Aside from Art and me, my best friend is the next to have witnessed all the joys and excitement the pregnancy brought into my life. She practically shared everything with me from the start. And I'm sure if another person shares this pain with us, it will be my best friend.

It may seem different from other's points of view, but I am trying my best to continue living every day. I commend Art for being so understanding and patient with me. Despite going through the same experience, he must also carry me through. Seeing him be my rock through this unstable phase in our lives made me love him more. I would understand if he now feels differently about me. I also hate seeing myself now from before. But I hate it more, feeling so vulnerable and hopeless.

How I wish when a woman gets pregnant, she also prepares for a possible loss. It makes her understand that despite all the preparations from pre-natal to baby stuff, birthing classes, and taking care of the baby when they arrive, there is also a therapy session for when the pregnancy could end as it ended mine.

Remembering our first few nights after returning from the hospital made me realize the idea. While every new parent was home cuddling their newborns, some couples, like Art and me, were home crying together on our first night back.

Once we parked outside the house, an unspoken silence covered us. I could feel Art's hand shaking as he held mine. Our hands unconsciously touched my belly when we lay in bed for the night, a routine we did every night. Every night, we felt the baby's kick. We talked to her to tell her how much we loved her. And that broke our hearts more, realizing we went home alone without her.

I remembered from stories before that with every loss comes pain-the pain of longing combined with grief. One must go through this process to let go, move on, and eventually forget.

How could we forget her? The baby's room is beside our bedroom in my family home. We painted everything pink and yellow. Beside the crib is the rocking chair I had been practicing sitting on, expecting to do countless daily feedings. The baby dresser boasts pink, yellow, green, and red dresses and other clothing supplies for a lifetime. A mural of different Princesses surrounds the walls of the room. On top of the dresser are different frames of me and Art holding my baby bump and ultrasound pictures. And one of my favorite pictures of us with Avery and our parents during my baby shower.

Everything around me speaks of the precious one we had been waiting to complete our family. All the love and excitement I carried for nine months, I didn't expect to end with this indescribable sorrow. Nothing, and I say nothing, could have prepared me for this deep longing. I thought my parent's death was the saddest I could have ever been. I was wrong.

If life is a mystery, motherhood is twice as it is. You learn to love the little one inside you without meeting or holding them in your arms. Their little kicks excite you. The anticipation of seeing them for the first time ignites the fire within you to keep going despite the morning sickness and swollen legs.

Looking forward to holding your little miracle after nine months motivates you to be the best mother you can be, even though you may not know how to be one yet. You talk to them every night, promising to protect and love them at all costs. Slowly, your future becomes second to theirs. Mothering starts the moment those two pink lines show without you realizing it. From experience, every woman will love every second of it.

"Shells..." Avery's voice awakens me. "Art just called to say he is on his way." I look at my best friend's face. Her eyes are red, and her chest is heaving. When I don't say anything, Avery's shoulders start shaking. "Why are you crying?" I ask as I slowly wipe her tears.

"We are worried about you," Avery replied, taking my hand away from her face. She never let go and held on to the other. I felt the soft squeeze as she enclosed my hands with hers. "We are grieving with you, Shells. Art and I share your pain." I nodded. "I know."

I felt my tears slowly falling down my cheeks. It was the first time since the hospital my crying didn't make any sound. No chest heaving or shoulders shaking. Just plain tears. I guess my body is in its next phase. I felt my hands released. Avery cupped my face and lifted my chin. She wiped my tears softly as her eyes looked on mine. "You are not alone, Shells. We are all in this together." I nod multiple times. "But you have to let us in," Avery continued. "Let us share these emotions with you." Her one hand continuously wipes my tears as the other tucks my hair away from my face.

I waited for my body to tremble. The shaking usually follows after the tears. Then comes the sobbing and the never-ending questions of why me and what I could have done. But it never did. My eyes locked on Avery's face. This beautiful human of my best friend is sharing my pain. The sound of her soft sobs is a whisper, trying to reach my heart and pleading with me to allow her to give me warmth in the coldest time of my life.

How can I tell Avery I want to be stronger? I wanted to. I tried to fight all the whispers telling me I wasn't good enough. I'm begging my mind to let all the questions go away. And I'm urging my heart to feel I'm bigger than all the fears inside it. But I don't know how.

God knows how I've been fighting everything inside me. I want to be me again. Feeling this way suffocates me. I have been nothing but an empty shell for the past few days. It made me realize how unrealistic I had been the times I expressed my condolences to some people who once lost their loved ones. I quickly spoke words of empathy, and sadness showed on my face, not knowing how the other person felt. Everything was easier said than done.

Losing a child, I could say, is like dying. Death may be a tragedy, but it isn't the most tragic. It is what dies inside us while we are left behind, and we expect to keep living despite the pain.

The sound of the front door opening and closing, followed by Art's footsteps, brought me back to Avery's presence in front of me. Both of us immediately wiped our tears. Avery fixed my hair and smoothened the pajama top I had been wearing for days. She ran for the body mist on top of the vanity and sprayed it all over me. I can only imagine what she and Art had been bearing on their shoulders, putting up with me and my sorry ass.

When Art entered, I noticed his hanging eyelids, the dark circles under his eyes, paler skin, and droopy corners of his mouth. Despite the darkness and silence in our room at night, we stayed awake after saying goodnight. Guilt enwrapped me. My silence and inability to feel like myself is doing this to Art. I am causing him more pain. I am becoming his burden.

The moment his eyes saw mine, he smiled. He patted Avery on the shoulder and thanked her for accompanying me while he was out. I felt his hands cupping my face, followed by his kiss on my forehead, and then his lips fell on mine. I love him, and there is no denying that. And I love him more for trying everything to make me feel loved and cared for.

After the soft and lingering kiss on my lips, I touched his cheeks. His eyes brightened. "I have good news!" He held my hands and pulled me into his arms. "I had your visa approved. We're going to Munich together." I pulled away from him and shook my head. "I'm not going."

A long silence followed. Avery stilled beside the door. Art's eyes opened wide, and his jaws dropped open. "What do you mean you're not going? Art asked as his eyes darted into mine. I started pacing inside the room. I could feel their vision following my every move. I stopped and brushed my hands in my hair.

"I can't leave. I have to be here for the baby's first month."

***

The greatest tragedy in life is not death

but what we let die inside of us while we live.

- Norman Cousins