looked up at me. “We shouldn’t have had sex last night. I should have stopped.”
“Sex doesn’t cause miscarriages.”
“How do you know? What if I went in too deep?”
I really didn’t know.
“I’m so sorry, Lexi.”
I pulled him to me and we cried together.
“I loved our baby so much.”
* * * *
While we waited for the blood test results, I called Marcus. Thank God the party had ended and everyone had gone home. But not without asking a million questions as to my whereabouts.
“Lex, I didn’t know what to tell everyone. What happened?”
I struggled to find the words. “Um, the baby…”
“Is everything okay?”
“No.” My hand shook the phone against my ear and fresh tears trickled down my cheeks. “It’s gone.”
“Oh, Lexi. I’m sorry. What can I do?”
“Give Preston lots of kisses and tell him Mommy loves him. And please make sure he’s in bed before we get home. I don’t want him to see me like this.”
“I will. I love you and we’re here for anything you need.”
“I know. Thank you.”
The phone beeped when I pressed End, a piercing sound in such a quiet room. Rich returned, having run to the cafeteria for some strong coffee. His eyes, while dry, still held their red hue and the puffiness from crying.
“Nurse said the results should be back any minute, then we can get out of here.”
He just nodded and my heart broke. I wanted to pull him to me and tell him everything was going to be okay, though I wasn’t sure I believed it myself. But as devastating as the loss of our baby was for me, it had to be so much more for him. I had Preston at home, a baby I could hug and kiss and snuggle. This would have been Rich’s first child–a baby who would only call him Daddy.
The nurse came in with some paperwork. “Your blood work came back. The HCG level, which is the hormone produced during pregnancy, is lower than that of a normal healthy pregnancy. It should continue to decrease over the next few days until it’s at zero.” She gave a sympathetic smile. “I’m so sorry.”
I stared at her puppy dog scrubs and the vision began to blur. I’d held onto a small spark of hope that maybe the OB had been wrong. The ultrasound machine had been broken. I wanted the nurse to tell me my levels were exactly where they should be for this stage of my pregnancy. But she didn’t. She just confirmed what we already knew.
“I have your discharge papers here. You can leave whenever you feel up to it. No rush.”
She left and we were alone again.
Rich stood and tossed his empty Styrofoam cup into the trash. “We should get going.”
“Yeah. Can you grab my clothes?”
He reached for the pile and turned to me with another horrid reminder of what we’d gone through. My bloodied underwear, now dried and brown, sat staring at us.
“Please throw those away,” I begged and he did without a second of hesitation.
But my dress had a huge blood stain on it too. Without even asking, Rich balled it up and tossed it. He covered his face with his hands and rubbed a few times, then raked his fingers through his hair.
“What do we do now?”
I buzzed the nurse’s station and the same compassionate woman came strolling in. After explaining the clothing situation, she brought in a set of pale blue scrubs. I put them on with my beige Prada platforms and searched for my purse. Rich pulled it from under the chair in the corner and set it on the bed. He took me in his arms, squeezing me tight, as if he were holding on for dear life. Like he was falling, his life about to spiral into an endless pit, my body his only way of surviving.
I pulled away and wiped the tears from his cheeks. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
* * * *
Seven AM came way too soon. The alarm went off and instead of yawning and stretching and bouncing out of bed to wake my beautiful baby boy, I slammed my hand on the alarm and knocked it on the floor. Which didn’t even turn it off. The beeping continued and now I had to get out of bed to turn it off. I threw the comforter and stood, feeling the gush of liquid in my crotch. More blood had oozed out, reminding me the events of the previous day did happen.
I grabbed the alarm clock and beat it into submission, then slammed it on the nightstand, knocking over the picture of Rich, Preston and I. It landed face-side down and after I’d picked it up, relief filled me as I found it unharmed. I sat down on the bed and stared at the picture. Rich came behind me and kissed the back of my neck.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry I wigged out like that.”
“It’s understandable. I’d tear the whole place apart if it’d make me feel any better.”
“Preston’s one-year check up is today. I have to call my doctor too, and see when I can get in. I don’t think the receptionist comes in ’til nine though.”
“Call me after you make the appointment. I have a couple meetings today, but leave a voicemail. I want to go with you and I’ll need to tell my boss so he can guarantee me the day off.”
“You’re going to work today?”
He sighed and kissed me again. “I thought of calling in sick, but I think staying busy will help, ya know?”
I agreed. I had lots to keep my mind miscarriage-free, or at least, things to try and keep my mind occupied. “I’ll call you as soon as I know.”
Rich got up and started his morning routine. Many mornings I joined him in the shower and we’d get a quickie in before breakfast. Not today. I got out of bed and headed to Preston’s room.
He’d been asleep when Rich and I got home the night before, as requested. I’d peeked in on him, though–his angelic face with a smile, dreaming happy baby dreams. I’d pressed a kiss to his head and felt the emptiness of my womb. Before my sobs could start again, I’d scooted out.
When I’d returned to the living room, Rich sat with Marcus and Kevin, a bottle of Jack on the table. Rich and Kevin had already been sipping on theirs. Marcus had poured another glass and handed it to me. I’d shaken my head at first, but needed something to dull the ache in my gut. I took the glass and snuggled into Rich. Marcus had poured a fourth and sat back, leaving the bottle open. He’d known it would get more use before it needed its cap.
Chapter 4
“He’s perfect,” Dr. Simon stated after inspecting every crevice of Preston’s body. “He needs a few shots before you go–MMR, hib, and chicken pox. Any questions?”
I shook my head and tried to smile.
Her exuberant expression faded. “Lexi, is everything all right?”
I tried to control my tear ducts, but apparently they had a mind of their own. “I’m having a miscarriage.”
“Oh no. You should get to the hospital.”
“I already went–yesterday. And I’m seeing my OB tomorrow.”
Her eyes softened and she placed her hand atop mine. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.”
The nurse came in and wiped Preston’s leg with an alcohol-drenched cotton ball.
I held my boy tight and when he cried,