Page 75 of Say You Want Me
Wyatt releases my other hand and walks toward the door. His back is to me, but I can see his shoulders shake. I watch him fall apart. His hand braces on the window sill, and he wipes his face with the other. He doesn’t let me see him, but I know he’s trying to keep it together.
Presley chokes on her sob. “I can’t do that. I wish I could.”
“That’s what I thought,” I look away. “I want to go to sleep.”
She kisses my forehead. “Okay, babe. Rest if you can. We’ll talk more later. I love you.”
I draw in a shaky breath. “I know.”
Presley turns, goes to Wyatt, and grips his arm. She says something too low for me to hear, and he nods. Her eyes glance back at me one last time before she slips out the door.
Wyatt heads toward me with a pained look in his eyes.
After a few minutes of silence, I whisper, “Why? Why did this happen to us?”
“I’m sorry.”
I close my eyes as everything starts to sink in. “Did you see her?”
“We don’t have to talk about this now.” His voice is so hesitant, so sad, but I don’t care.
“I need to know! I-I need!” I start to get hysterical. I was out for days while they’ve all processed this. I just found out I lost my baby. I need to know what happened. Was she hurt? Could I have done something? As I start to move to sit up, a stabbing sensation hits my side. I suck in a breath and close my eyes.
“Okay.” He pushes my hair back. “Okay, please just try to stay calm.”
I nod and slowly relax myself. “I need to know, Wyatt.”
“I held her.” He tells me. “I held her in my palm and cried over her.” I close my eyes and choke back the tears, but they slip past my eyelashes and fall down my cheek anyway. “She’s beautiful and tiny. I told her about how much I love her. I told her how much you do, too.”
“I can’t.” I stop him. “I can’t. I thought I could.”
His body slumps a little, and he leans against the side of the bed. “Okay.” Resignation settles between us. “We don’t have to do this now. When you’ve rested, we’ll go from there.”
There’s nowhere to go—not unless he’s able to bring back what is gone, which he can’t. No one can. We’re going to have to find a way to be childless parents and get through our days. I’ll have to look at my stomach every day for the rest of my life and know she’s gone.
“Honey.” Mrs. Hennington has been talking at me for what feels like an hour. I say “talking at” because I haven’t really been responding. I can’t. How can I talk when I’m dead inside? “We have to make arrangements.”
I don’t want to do any of this. “Please,” I beseech her. “Just pick whatever.” I want her to go away.
Presley shares a look with her, and Wyatt stares out the window. This morning, the chaplain came to talk to us about the loss of a child and how important it was to grieve. As if I didn’t know enough about that. He urged us to name her, spend some time with her, and allow ourselves to let go.
Then the doctor explained that there were no policies regarding infants, and we just needed to let our wants be known.
After they left, Wyatt spoke as I sat here crying and listened, wishing I could soothe his pain. He was in agony, but I was so deep in my own, I didn’t know what to say. I held his hand as he spoke of our baby and all she means to him. He told me how scared he was that I wouldn’t come out of it. That he would lose me too. His pain was palpable as he expressed his guilt and remorse.
It wasn’t his fault, but I couldn’t get the words out. Not because I don’t believe them, but because I’m struggling to breathe.
I want them to leave me the fuck alone. That’s what I want.
Everyone.
“Pick whatever you think is best. I really don’t care.” I try for a calm tone, but judging by the way their eyes widen, I failed.
“Did you decide if you want to see her?” Presley brings it up again. “We don’t want to do anything until you’ve made up your mind, Ang. We can’t undo it after that.”
I don’t know if my heart can handle it.
But I have to decide if I want to see the baby I couldn’t protect.
