Page 25 of Little Empty Promises

“You’re doing the best you can, given the circumstances.”

“Am I?Because it sure seems like I’m not.”

I knotted the top of the bag of clothes and grabbed another bag.“Do you want to talk about it?”

“To you, yes.But it doesn’t feel right.I don’t want to stir up bad memories.”

“I’ll relive it either way.Talking about it doesn’t make it better or worse.It doesn’t change anything.And to be honest, I’ve made peace with my past … as much peace as I can, anyway.”

She took a deep breath in and said, “I didn’t know it was going to be this hard.When you went through it, I thought I knew what you were feeling.I thought I could empathize.I was so wrong.I know that now.”

“You were a great support to me,” I said.

Phoebe took another sip of wine and walked to the kitchen, pouring herself another helping of merlot.She returned to the living room, setting the glass down on a side table.Then she plopped down on the floor next to me.

“I’m glad you’re here.It’s made me want to get off my butt and do something for the first time since it happened.”She grabbed a bag and a fistful of clothes and joined me in my efforts.“How did you do it?How did you get through the loss of a child—twice?”

“I just took it one?—”

She pressed her hands to her face, bursting into tears.“I’m sorry.I thought I could talk about it, but I’m not sure I … it just hurts too much, you know?”

I dropped the clothes I’d just scooped up and wrapped my arms around her.“You have no reason to be sorry.If you need to cry, cry.If you need to scream, scream.Let it out.Let it all out.”

And she did, wailing for the next several minutes, while I sat there, holding her.All the emotions she’d been keeping at bay came flooding out.And though it pained me to see her in such a state, our shared experience allowed me to understand her in a way most could not.

Minutes ticked by, and as the tears subsided, she relaxed enough to revisit the subject once more.“I don’t know how to get through what’s happened.I’ve felt pain before, but nothing could have prepared me for losing a child.”

“I think the best thing you can do is to be patient with yourself.Take it one day at a time.”

She leaned against the sofa and said, “I’m trying.”

“Like you, I experienced an anguish I’d never known when it happened.Both miscarriages came before Fallon was born.The only time I’ve suffered worse was when she too was taken from me.”

“Taken from all of us.How did you get past it, to the place you’re in now?”

“I didn’t for a long time, and then one day, I decided I needed to acknowledge it and to honor the children I’d lost.”

“How?”

“With the first, when I learned I was pregnant, I was overjoyed.I went out and shopped for the baby, buying neutral clothes, fitting for a boy or a girl.I bought toys, and bottles, and pacifiers.Then the miscarriage came.For the first few weeks, I tortured myself, spending most of my time in the nursery, surrounded by all the things I’d bought.I even slept in there a few times.”

“I had no idea.”

“I didn’t want anyone to know.I thought it was better that way, but you know something?It wasn’t.I should have leaned on the people who cared about me, people I trust.To honor the baby’s life, I stuck everything I’d bought for the baby in a box.I dug a hole in the backyard, put the box in the hole, and I had my own private ceremony.It was the healing process I needed.It didn’t make everything feel fine again, but it helped.”

“It gave you a sense of closure.”

“It did,” I said.

“I’m not sure I’m there yet.”

“It’s been a week.You don’t need to be there yet.You don’t need to move on until you’re ready.”

“There’s so much guilt attached to it all.Not moving on makes me feel like I’m not being a good wife or a good mother.”

“It’s okay to let your husband and even Lark look after you right now.You should lean on them, and you should lean on us, your family.It’s what we do.”

She nodded, then said, “Let’s talk about something else.Tell me about you.What’s going on in your life?”

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