The Bye Without the Good

...her heart and body ached equally. It had been two days post the parting of her baby boy and the removal of his little body out of her. She was empty in all the possible ways a woman could be.

EM is laying in bed. Her fragile body in pain and defeated from the war it’s been losing against the natural changes that come with carrying a child. Each emotion presents itself unannounced. Evident they control her and not the other way around. It has been a rough couple of days, from the excitement of announcing the coming of her second baby. Followed by an ocean of blood, only to be notified in the midst of a loud and busy emergency room, she had lost her baby.

She was 6 months in. His name was Tim. After months of Em and KAy, her husband, looking through books, websites and asking others for opinions. Tim had been the name they thought would best suit the little man growing inside her. He’s simple, significantly different from her first son. The first pregnancy was a nightmare. An accumulation of all pregnancy symptoms combined and rotating on 30 minutes intervals. No sleep, morning sickness, heartburn, swelling, and more masked behind those causing most discomfort.

That morning, like all others, she was first to wake. The routine ingrained in her to where it was all performed on auto-pilot, leaving her mind to wonder. The worries of the world held a special place in her head. It had begun in her early teens. Experiencing struggle from a very young age she thought too often on how her siblings and mom will make it through the next month without the threat of eviction or starvation. Life created a fear in her that caused her to trust no one and think of luck as a state she will never experience. Her dream was to be free and dance. It was not the fame that called her heart but the freedom of exploring the world. Poverty had done a real number on her. It’s weed held a tight grip, lighting the fire for success. Part-time after part-time job, it was clear she was not cut out to be part of the corporate world. They’d start off good. The comfort of economic stability the tolerance of the mundane and nuance of having a 9-5, was sustainable. Eventually it would not be enough for her to keep a job and she will always end up back in the studio teaching classes for free or for very little pay. One thing she knew without a doubt was the happiness that came with the struggle of doing what she loved.  

By her mid 20’s the only love she had experienced was attached to heartbreak. Some had cheated on her, others only used her for sex. Either way, her heart was fragile and disconnected when she met Kay. He like her, lost, looking for meaning in the creative waves in his mind. Dancing was not his art, but music moved him.  A producer at heart, he could create magic from notes, melodies and syncopated rhythms. It was his language. He did not live unscathed from the chaotic life surrounded by drugs, alcohol and promiscuity.

Years later, both discovered a celestial event had adorned the firmament the day they met called The Full Moon, also known as Blue Moon. The rarity of this astrological demonstration birth to the phrase ‘Once in a Blue Moon’. When they discovered its significance, it became easily incorporated to their loving phrases. In moments of escalated arguments, they’d calm each other down and ask, “How often do you think of leaving me?”, to which the other will reply, “only once in a blue moon.” The words would soothe their anxiety and anger.

Neither of them would expect the loss coming their way years later. Ten years together, their first born, economic hardship and new discovered faith, their family had settled in a little town in Georgia. Population of 3000. KAy was studying to be a theologian. Em was home with their son, homeschooling and keeping the household operational without disruption. The free bird she once was had lost feathers and could no longer fly. A little piece of her soul and spirit decorating those same feathers now on the floor. She silently swept them every other day as part of that domesticated routine. She was a great cook, but she could not perform all these tasks without a little music and moves. Sometimes she felt guilty for dreaming of what her life would’ve been like had she danced for a company and travelled.

“I’m here now and I love my life”. she whispers to the empty air. When anxiety crept near her thoughts, she’d taught herself to look at her son and be grateful.

Today was different, her heart and body ached equally. It had been two days post the parting of her baby boy and the removal of his little body out of her. She was empty in all the possible ways a woman could be. She stood by the kitchen sink staring blankly at the water run and flow into and out of the coffee pot intended to brew coffee and fill the house with the aroma of morning and routine. Before she knew it, tears were as fluent as the water running out of the faucet. There is this tug in ger chest, and she begins to silently sob. Kay and her first born are sleeping. Aware she is alone she invests in those pockets of solitude but envy’s the simplicity of their life’s.  Em understands that losing a child is not easy on any parent, but the blame will always weight more on her body not his. Her faith has provided some solace through these hard times but every now and then she questions her God. After all anger is part of grieving, right? She speaks to the space above her. Hoping God could hear her. The anger charged but momentary. Em turns the water off, dries her hands and walks to the desk next to the kitchen of their imperceptibly tiny home. She pulls the chair back and as she is sitting down, she greets Anxiety. The grief has left her fatigued. Anxiety is not pleased to be greeted this way. She gravitates to heightened emotion, the more intense, the better.  But today Em acknowledged her with no reaction.

Anxiety faces her and smirks. Dressed in all black. Although uncomfortable Em appreciates the reverence.

How have you been?

            Do you not see me?

I do, but you seem to not acknowledge me. I’m confused.

            I just lost a child, it’s anger or death I rather see sitting across me than you.

Ouch, why say that? Welcomed or not, I am here supporting you. Aren’t I?

Supporting? Em raises her eyebrows and continues to look towards her but not at her.

Yes, supporting. My presence counts. You should know.

            Had it been any other day I would have known. Today I don’t care.

You need to do something about that. Not thinking is not like you. What would your life be like, if you remain in this state?

It will be a cup without half of its content. I can’t see past this sadness. Stop with the selfishness and let me explore other emotions.

I encourage you to in the interim. But upon my return I would appreciate your attention. There are too many things you need to focus on.

Anxiety stands and begins to blur away. Like a dissipated fog, the wall behind her now visible. A hanging frame centers, and Em's eyes settle on it. It’s one of the many inspirational arts decorating the walls of their home. She read it and a gentle smile shed light in the tunnel of no hope she was traveling through.

‘When the air in your lungs does not energize the words on your lips. When your thoughts drown in the flood of your emotions. Write what your heart feels and release it to the zephyr that surrounds you. Time will remind you no one emotion lasts forever.’

Em had a realization of what would be her first step to help her begin to pick up the pieces of her shattered heart and move past the pain. She sidled into the room where KAy slept and grabbed her journal. The door was left ajar as to not wake him. She sat again at the dining table and began to write.

‘My baby. My beautiful baby boy. The only solace I find in your departure is the faith of seeing you again in heaven. Mommy misses you and so does your dad and brother. I had dreamt of what life would be upon your arrival. How it would change routines, so you’d fit perfectly into our imperfect family. Now I sit here without a memory of your life. Would it be better I not met you? I’m sorry was not strong enough to hold you and keep you safe. My world was not perfect where God thought it be best you stay with me. My love, is it better to mourn you and try to find joy again? Is it cruel this sadness clouds the happiness your brother brings to my life? How are you doing? Was it as sad for you to not be with us? Mommy loves you, yesterday, today and forever. You’re kind of love comes once in a blue moon.”

Em puts the pen down and wipes her tears. When she is startled by her first born. Holding a book in his hands, Titled, My Little Moon.

            “We love you mama”