When I get to the bottom of my bag, I realize I’m well and truly fucked. I forgot that I lost my phone in the accident. I haven’t needed it all week in the hospital, but right now, it’s the only item I need.
Burying my face into the sterile and overly bleached hospital pillow, I only hope that my scream is muffled enough to not raise any concern. There is just so much anger swirling through my veins that I have to let it out; I can’t contain it any longer.
I scream and yell into the pillow until my throat is raw, until the physical pain outweighs the emotional. Though the complete erasure of emotional depravity never comes, I eventually tire of my outburst.
Flopping over onto my back, I stare up at the drop-tile ceiling and start counting the black dots in a vain attempt to calm down. When my breath no longer catches in my throat and the sobs begin to recede, I come back to one clear and unavoidable truth – I’m having a baby.
I place my hands tenderly on top of my belly and get lost in thoughts of whether it will be a boy or a girl; will the baby look like me or like Reid. My lips quirk up in the corners and I laugh at my complete inability not to think about Reid for more than two minutes.
I miss him so much already and I know that I can’t do this on my own. I pushed him away; I made him feel unworthy. I broke us.
Wiping away my own tears, I resolve to fix things. A simple apology won’t do and even I know that. I owe him so much more than that and I vow to prove to him just how worthy he is.
I can only hope that he’ll listen and that, maybe, if I’m lucky enough, he’ll let me back into his heart.
My body aches and it takes so much effort to stand after being crammed in this damn car for the last few hours. The sob-fest from earlier really took its toll on me. My lungs burn from the sobbing and there’s a constant, dull soreness radiating from my still-healing broken bones.
I want to say that it feels good to be home, that I can’t wait to sprawl out on my bed and let myself heal, but no amount of time or comfort will mend my broken heart. The gnawing and twisting feelings over having pushed Reid away stayed with me for most of the car ride. I was so lost in my own anguish that I barely interacted with Momma or Mel at all.
I can’t believe I actually told him that he needs to be whole, to be complete before he can love me.
That’s fucking bullshit and I don’t know why I couldn’t see it just a few hours ago as he was standing in front of me, begging me to leave his past alone.
He did love me completely – hopefully still does. He never once made me feel unloved or uncared for. Maybe he was right? Just because I’ve made peace with my past doesn’t mean that he has to with his.
He’s been nothing but amazing with me and I pretty much told him he wasn’t good enough. What a bitch! I shake my head at my stupidity as I replay the scene over and over in my head; it’s a wonder that he didn’t just tell me to go fuck myself as he turned away. His venomous words twist my gut.
So, get off your fucking high horse, Maddy, and deal with it.
He’s right and I know it. I have to no right to dictate what he does in his life.
Except to bring him back to me. I have to make that happen.
What a fucking mess and there’s really no one to blame but myself. It would have been amazing for him to jump up and down with joy when I told him that I’m pregnant, but that’s just so unfair. I sure as hell didn’t react like that when Dr. McNamara told me.
I haven’t even told Momma or Mel yet. It was on my mind the whole car ride, but there really isn’t an easy way to work it into the conversation. It’s just too much. If I tell them I’m pregnant, then I have to tell them about leaving Reid. That’s just too painful to share right now. I don’t even know what I’m going to do. Will I go back to college in the spring? Should I just transfer to a school closer to home? Where is home? Can I expect to live here with Momma? How will she react? How the hell am I going to take care of a baby?
It’s too overwhelming. I just want to curl up into Reid’s arms and let him tell me that everything will be okay, but that’s obviously not what he wants. He didn’t follow me here. He hasn’t called – sure it’s only been a few hours, but still.
While all of these thoughts race through my mind, I try to get comfortable on the couch in the den. My room is upstairs and right now my ribs are still too sore to go up a flight of stairs. Melanie immediately ran out to the pharmacy to fill my prescriptions – all except the one for the pre-natal vitamins. That one is tucked securely in my pocket.
Momma really has done her best to make it as comfortable as possible and I love her for it. The couch is covered in freshly cleaned sheets and blankets. I really couldn’t ask for more from her, but I know that when I tell her I’m pregnant, that’s exactly what I will be doing.
“Here you go, sweetie.” Momma walks gingerly into the sunken den carrying a bowl of chicken noodle soup. She places it on the snack table in front of me and sits down next to me.
“Thanks, Momma. I’m so hungry. That car trip was a killer.” I bring a spoonful up to my lips and blow to cool the soup a little. Even though I know it’s out of a can, it’s delicious. Knowing that Momma’s first task upon arriving home is to take care of me makes it taste even better. There’s just something about being comforted by your mother’s cooking that soothes the soul.
A fleeting image of me taking care of my baby passes through my mind. Thoughts of Reid naturally follow thoughts of me being a mom. Will he be there with me? Will he find it in his heart to forgive me, to love me again?
Momma leans back on the couch and sighs as she stretches her back which I’m sure is sore from the long drive.
“So, when is Reid going to get here? Have you heard from him since we left?” Momma asks. I guess it is pretty foolish to think that I would be able to avoid this conversation.
She sees the look on my face – of pain, of guilt, of heartache. I can’t help but break under the pressure from all of my thoughts, from the current turn that my life has taken. Tucking one leg under the other, she shifts on the couch so that she is facing me and I turn to her.
She really is the epitome of love. Her face is soft and caring – eyes crinkling in the corner. Life hasn’t always been fair to her. She lost the love of her life and had to figure out how to carry on, how to survive without her other half.
I try to speak, but nothing will come out past the hot lump of raw emotion that has formed in my throat. I know I have no right to cry; I pushed him away, but I didn’t expect him to let me. That’s what hurts the most. Maybe I am disposable to him after all.
