Page 69 of Blackout: Book Two

Chapter Twenty-two

Lacey

Tears slide down my cheeks as I stare at the tiny paper cup in Dr. Spiegel’s hand.

“Lacey, Dr. Heltzer has assured us that it’s safe for you to take the pills,” my father murmurs.

“I’ve lessened the dosage as an extra precaution,” Dr. Spiegel chimes in. “But Lacey, you saw for yourself this morning when Dr. Heltzer performed a 4D sonogram of the baby. She’s doing just fine. All she needs is her mommy to be well and the best way we can do that for her is by controlling your mood swings.”

Maybe they’re right.

All the books I’ve been reading and all the google searches I’ve been conducting say my daughter’s heart was fully formed eight weeks into the pregnancy and any congenital heart defects usually happen during that time. Science says she’s out of the woods. There are no proven facts that state taking Lithium in the third trimester can result in any harm. In fact, if you look it up, you’ll see most doctors encourage patients like me to return to their meds after the second trimester. By then there is no longer a fear for the baby as much as there is for the mother.

“Lace, look at me,” my father pleads. “I spoke to Blackie last night.” I turn my eyes toward him and wipe my cheeks with the back of my hands. I made such a mess of things at his amends. Actually, I took a serious moment in his recovery and made it all about me and my demons. Talk about being a supportive wife. I fucking sucked.

Even with the fog of dark thoughts clouding my head, I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on his face when I confessed to often thinking about hurting myself. I’ve never seen him look so heartbroken before. So fucking defeated. In a way, it was like looking in a mirror. I imagine I had the same expression on my face every time he confessed to relapsing. They say love isn’t supposed to be hard. That it isn’t supposed to hurt. But I think love is only hard when you love hard. It hurts when you have too much to lose. If love was easy it wouldn’t be rare, and the rarest things are often the most beautiful. Maybe I’m being naïve. Maybe my heart is speaking louder than my mind. Maybe I need to believe love is the antidote to what medicine can’t fix. Maybe I need love to bridge the gap between my head and mind so that I have the strength to find my way out of this debilitating darkness.

“He wanted me to remind you how much he loves you and that the baby needs her mom and he’s right, Lacey. Think about us, you and me,” he says, pausing to point between us. “…every time I thought about checking out, I told myself you and Danny needed me well.”

“I know you’re right,” I reply. “It just doesn’t make it any easier.”

Tearing my eyes away from him, I look back at the cup in Dr. Spiegel’s hand.

“What happens after I take the pills?”

“Well, as you know it will take time for your body to react to the medication. After speaking with Dr. Heltzer, we both agree that it would be best if you remain in the hospital so we can monitor you and the baby.”

“For how long?”

“That depends. It could be a few days or a couple of weeks. The point is for you to recharge. Lacey, I don’t have to tell you how serious this is.”

No, she doesn’t.

It’s never okay to think your life would be better if it were over.

But it’s even more serious when it’s not only your life you hold in your hands.

There’s an innocent child at stake.

My innocent child.

Like I fought to make sure her heart was healthy, I need to fight to bring her into my arms.

Reaching out, I take the paper cup from Dr. Spiegel and drop the pills into my palm. She hands me a cup of water and before I can give doubt a chance to take over, I knock back the Lithium.

“Thatta girl,” my dad whispers.

Nodding, I hand Dr. Spiegel back the empty cup and lay both my hands on my belly, silently wishing she’d kick me. The need to feel her so profound. My girl doesn’t disappoint. It’s as if she knows I need to be reminded of the connection we share because she grants me my wish.

“We’re going to be okay,” I whisper.

My dad leans over the bed rail and presses a kiss to my forehead.

“Yeah, you are,” he assures before turning to Dr. Spiegel. “Should we let her get some rest?”

“Good idea,” she agrees and then promises to check in on me before she leaves for the day. My dad also vows to come back in a little while with a pizza.

Alone, I close my eyes and as my daughter does somersaults inside me, I drift to sleep. She fills my dreams in all the most precious ways. When I wake sometime later, I open my eyes to see Nico sitting beside me. Surprisingly without a pint of ice cream.

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