Love Thy Neighbor (38 page)

Ash looks up in thought and says, “To
happiness.”

Nodding, I utter, “To a long life
together.”

Ash smiles, reaches up and grips the back of
my neck. He pulls me closer to him til we’re nose-to-nose and
mutters, “That’s a good one.”

I peck his lips and say between kisses, “You
sure you can handle me, big boy?”

His body shakes with silent laughter. He
runs his nose up the length of mine and says, “Baby, you were made
for me.”

Stilling, I whisper, “That’s a good
one.”

He kisses my lips and I close my eyes.

To happiness.

***

Fuck my life!

I’m running late to work for the first time
in
ever,
but in my defense, I seem to have drunk too much
last night and am hungover.

I didn’t say it was a great defense.

My head throbs, my stomach aches and I can
barely open my eyes. I feel like I’m gonna ralph any second and as
I walk through the door to Safira’s, Tina booms, “Good morning,
hon!”

Okay, so she doesn’t say it all that loudly,
but it feels like my eardrums are going to explode.

Cringing, I tell her, “Quiet, please. I feel
like crap.”

A look of guilt crosses her face and she
whispers, “Sorry!”

Great, now I feel like shit. Making my way
over to her, I hug her and tell her, “Don’t be. It’s my fault. I’m
hungover.”

Tina looks confused before saying, “Okay,
well how about you do some nice relaxing inventory today?”

Sitting on my ass all day at a computer
rather than having to listen to whiny customers and see the light
of day which, by the way, is burning my retinas to a crisp, sounds
like a plan. I’ll take inventory with a big
yes please
!

Squeezing her, I tell her, “This is why I
love you, babe. You’re the greatest.”

Shuffling my way into the store room, I
throw my bag down, take out my bottle of water and aspirin, chug
two and sit behind the desk. I don’t think I’ve ever been so
hungover before. When I click on the inventory software to open,
all the letters and numbers look jumbled together. I can’t see
clearly and the screen is making my headache worse. Lowering my
forehead to the cool wooden surface of the desk, I breathe deeply
and try to calm myself.

Now is not the time to get frustrated.
Besides, if I am going to be frustrated at someone, I only have
myself to blame.

No sympathy. Walk it off and get to
work.

Shaking my head to clear it, I try again.
Looking up at the screen, it seems a little clearer and I get to
work.

Before I know it, three hours have passed
and I’m almost done. My stomach rumbles and I realize I skipped
breakfast. Taking my bag, I walk out of the store room and Tina
greets me with a big smile. “Hey, you look a lot better. How are
you feeling?”

Smiling back, I tell her, “A lot better.
Thank God for aspirin. Are you hungry? I thought I’d go get us some
subs from Silvio?”

Tina scrunches her nose and pats her belly,
she explains, “I shouldn’t eat deli meat while I’m pregnant, so
I’ll pass, but get me a cookie.”

Waving to her, I walk out the door and over
to Silvio’s. As soon as I’m through the door, the smell of meat,
cheese and baked goods hit me and I cover my mouth.

Oh shit. I’m going to ralph!

Quickly stepping back out to the sidewalk, I
breathe deeply and decide on going to the drug store for some
seltzer tabs. Once inside, I grab the stomach settling remedy and
walk toward the counter. Looking to the left hand shelf, I stop
suddenly. My heart skips a beat. I grab another few items off the
shelf, just in case, and take it all to the register.

The little mature woman smiles knowingly,
“Green around the gills, are we?”

Chuckling, I tell her, “Just a little.”

Needing to get somewhere quiet quickly, I
basically run back to Safira’s and take my bag of medicine into the
bathroom with me. Thoughts of lunch disappear with a new wave of
nausea. I turn quickly and kneel, just in time to throw up in the
toilet bowl.

Thoughts rush through my head and I open the
drug store bag with shaking hands.

I hold up the long narrow box and open it
before I can change my mind.

***

Closing my eyes, I lean my head back on the
cool bathroom mirror.

When I think enough time has passed, I pick
up the stick and gasp.

No fucking way.

I’m pregnant.

Chapter
Thirty
Everything happens for a reason

Six months later…

My stomach aches. My back hurts. I haven’t
brushed my hair today or my teeth. Wearing no makeup and dressed in
sweats, I sit next to Ash and wait.

Always waiting.

I hate the fucking wait. It makes me nervous
as hell.

Pulling my hands into the arms of my
sweater, I wrap my arms around myself and go somewhere deep within
myself. Somewhere safe and happy. In the void that is my mind.

I haven’t been happy for six months, and
it’s taking its toll on my marriage.

Ash loves me and I love him just as much. I
know he would do anything for me, but right now, no one can do a
thing for me. I’m stuck in my head. In my thoughts. Somewhere I
promised I’d never be again.

Faking my happy.

Lifting my thumb to my mouth, I bite my nail
and mutter, “What’s taking so long?”

Ash sighs. “Not sure, baby. Hang in there.”
He tries to put his hand on my shoulder, but I move away from his
touch. I don’t want anyone to touch me.

His hand stills mid-air, closes into a fist
and pulls away. I know I’m hurting him but I don’t know how else to
be. This is hard and emotionally draining.

The door opens and I sit straighter. Dr.
Tanya Rowley, a mature sweet lady, walks in and greets us with a
small smile. I like Tanya and I’ve been seeing a lot of her. Enough
to know that today’s news is not going to be good.

The bridge of my nose tingles and my bottom
lip quivers. Tanya says softly, “I’m so sorry.”

My heart is breaking.

I give up.

Ash puts his arms around me and this time I
let him. This is hurting him as much as it’s hurting me. I sob
quietly into his chest and Tanya says, “Two miscarriages in such a
short time are too many. We need to be thinking about you and your
health, too.”

Nodding slightly, I look up at her. She
hands me some tissue and explains, “The first natural conception
can often lead to a miscarriage. You would be surprised - quite a
lot of first pregnancies end in miscarriage in the early stages.
While your first round of IVF worked for conception…I’m sorry, but
I don’t recommend we use IVF again.”

Looking right at me, she says, “I can see
the effect this is having on you, Natalie. The state this whole
situation is putting you in…I think you need a break. I wish the
circumstances were different, but with the aggressive type of PCOS
you have, conceiving will always be difficult, and there is no
guarantee you’ll ever make it to full term. This is no longer a
question of whether you can conceive. We know you can. The problem
lies with carrying to term.” She sighs and looks between me and
Ash. “By the emotional state you’re in now, my recommendation is to
give it a rest for a while before we discuss more options. Take a
month to yourselves without having to worry about this. Reconnect
as a couple and talk through what you’re feeling.”

I dip my head. I know she’s saying this to
me, not Ash. It’s true. I’ve been pulling away from him.

After I miscarried the second time, I left,
went back to Cali without even telling him. I called him when I got
there and he was dumbstruck. He was so disappointed in me, and I
could feel it radiating off him even through the phone. In anger,
he told me I was selfish and acting like a spoilt brat.

He was right.

When he calmed down, he begged me to come
home. I could hear the strain in his voice. When I refused, he
asked me if I thought that I was the only one being affected by the
loss, but I couldn’t answer him. All I could think about was me.
When I’m hurting, I become irrational and selfish.

My parents and sisters tried to reason with
me to no avail. It got to the point where Helena, who is normally
my champion, yelled at me to stop being self-centered and to think
about what I just left my husband to deal with on his own. I burst
into tears at that. I was so caught up in my own emotions that I
forgot all about Ash not having family to talk to about it. I know
he has Nik, Max and Trick, but he doesn’t talk emotions with the
guys. I caught the next flight home and as soon as I walked through
the door, he looked up at me from the sofa through glassy eyes and
stated in a whisper, “I’m losing you.”

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.”

Her face falls a little. A few moments pass
and her small smile reappears. She asks, “Is that something that
would help you go through with it? If I were to go too?”

I smile softly at her, “Yeah, girl. I think
so.”

A beautiful smile graces her gorgeous face.
The first real smile I’ve seen her wear in a long, long time. She
dips her face towards mine and kisses my lips gently. There’s an
apology in this kiss and I’m taking it. I pull her deeper into me
and put my heart into this kiss. I say against her lips, “No matter
what happens, I love you. You’re all I need.”