There’s only one person that I could imagine bringing it here. Did he read it? Did he see all the blackness that’s lived in my heart for months now? The thought terrifies me; maybe that’s what chased him away. He’s seen that there was no point in trying to save what’s not savable, what’s not worth saving. Would he give up on me that easily? I wonder if this is why he’s chosen to believe that I would so easily decide to end my child’s life.
No, I can’t believe that he would give up on me that quickly. If I believed that for one second, then there would truly be no hope for me. All these unpleasant emotions are swirling around in my head, choking me with fear. I need to get them out, put them on paper so that one day I can look back on this day and smile, knowing I defeated my biggest enemy, me.
I grab the book and flip to the first piece of blank paper toward the back of the book. I look in the drawer and find what I’m looking for immediately. I grab the pen and furiously begin to scratch out my thoughts and feelings onto the blank canvas in the book.
There’s a knock on the door, startling me. I look up from my work and I’m not surprised to see Doctor Cox standing in the doorway.
“Can I come in?” she asks.
In an attempt to become a more pleasant person, I smile and nod. I gently set my journal next to me on the bed.
“How are you, Chloe?” she asks politely as she sits in the chair next to me.
“I’m here,” I reply. No sense on pretending. She’s here to help, right?
“What exactly does that mean?” she digs deeper for more information.
“It means, that I am here. Alive and well. I’m dealing.”
She shifts in the chair and pulls out a legal pad and pen. She rests the pad on the arm of the chair, putting the pen in position to start writing whatever information she plans on gathering from me today.
“Today we are just going to cover the basics, okay? I want us to start off slow. I’m here until you feel like you are done talking. I cleared the rest of my day so I could devote it to you. While we are in session, you are free to tell me anything in complete confidence. Do you know what that means?”
I nod letting her know I get what she’s saying.
She continues, “I do have to tell you that, because of the nature of your stay, if there is anything that you have done or that I am afraid you will do to yourself or the child, I will have to report it back to the judge and social services. So to clarify, the only thing I have to report back to them is if I feel like you purposefully harmed or will harm yourself or the fetus. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I whisper. I’m beginning to get scared all over again. What if I say something that she doesn’t like and tries to take away my baby? I won’t let them! Tears stream from my eyes. I close them to regain my self-control. I need to hold it in and show them I’m stronger than anyone has given me credit for.
“What is it, Chloe?” The concern in her voice is heavy. This surprises me since I just automatically assumed she’s here because it’s her job. A way for her to afford the Coach bag I see her toting around, so that it will match her designer suit.
“I’m just scared.” My voice is shaken, a testament as to how terrified I truly am.
“Would you like to tell me what you’re scared of?”
“Losing my child is probably the biggest fear I have right now,” I respond.
“Can you clarify on the meaning of the losing your child part of your statement?” she asks, scratching the end of her pen against the paper.
I sit a little straighter trying to see what she’s scribing in ink, but it’s no use. I can’t see what she’s written and that makes me nervous. Everything about this woman makes me uneasy. She’s so put together, everything from the iron creases in her skirt to each piece of hair that is perfectly in place.
“I don’t want the state to take my baby,” I reply. My eyes burn at the thought of the best part of me being ripped from my arms moments after I bring her into this world. I’ve already lost her father, it would kill me to lose her, too.
She writes something down on her pad before responding. “I can understand that.” Doctor Cox looks up at me and sets the pen down. “So, is there anything in particular you would like to discuss today? Anything that you feel needs to take precedence over anything else?”
I don’t know where to start so I shake my head no. Without a doubt, I know that my child should be first and foremost and she is, but I wouldn’t even know how to start that conversation. I decide to let her take the lead of the conversation and see where it goes.
“I know about your attack and the treatments used to get you well. Can you tell me why you refused counseling then?”
I think about her question for a moment before I answer honestly. “I didn’t think I needed it. I figured I could handle my emotions myself.”
“How do you feel now?” She begins writing again.
“I think that I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t want to go back to where I was. I don’t want to feel like I did. I don’t want to be dependent on all those medications I was on, I never did.”
She looks at me and for just a second I can see sadness in her eyes. Was that for me or for herself? “What do you mean you don’t want to feel like you did? How did you feel?”
That’s it, Doc, go ahead and jump in headfirst.
“Well, I couldn’t see the good in anything. Nothing could make me happy, not even Skye. I felt like every step I took was like walking in quicksand. I felt like I was sinking, and when I wasn’t being dragged down, I was being firmly held in place by my grief. I didn’t want to eat or leave the house. I felt like I was waiting for the moment my misery would swallow me whole. I was so disheartened all the time. There was never a bright spot in my day, no happy times, no relief.”
Doctor Cox interrupts me. “And why do you think that was, Chloe?”
I think about it for a beat before I answer. “I lost faith in my loved ones, even the ones that didn’t deserve it.” I hang my head in shame. It honestly isn’t fair to Skye and Sara to have this burden put on them. They didn’t deserve the way I treated them. I can only imagine what it feels like to watch someone you love mentally torture themselves day in and day out.
“Do you think the way you feel is validated? Should you really blame someone for someone else’s behavior?”
“I know I shouldn’t and I didn’t mean for it to happen, it just did. Then it happened again and again, until I didn’t know how else to act.” I feel so guilty for the way I have treated my friends. I need to apologize, but I don’t know if it will be enough. Another problem I’ll run into is getting Skye to listen to me. He’s made it clear that he wants nothing to do with me. Will he continue to feel this way or will his anger eventually fade? I pray that he will eventually let me explain what actually happened. Had I known that I was pregnant, I never would have done any of the things I did. I never would have let myself get inside of own head so deep.
Doctor Cox and I spend what seems like an obscene amount of time discussing my fears, what sets off my panic attacks, and how I plan on coping with everything from now on. I feel like the session is going great and that I can handle airing out all my problems with her. As it turns out, it’s not as hard as I thought it would be. I don’t know if it’s because she’s so easy to talk to, or if it’s because of my newfound mental clarity.
All of my thoughts and concerns flow from me like water from a tap. When I pause for air, Doctor Cox asks the one question I was waiting for.
“Did you know that you were pregnant when you were self-medicating or drinking?”
“No,” I reply sternly.
“You had no idea what so ever? There was no sign that stood out that caused you to momentarily thing you could possibly be pregnant?”
Again I respond, “No.” She looks happy with my answer, but I feel the need to elaborate further to eliminate any doubt that may surface between now and any future date.
“When I was a k
id, my parents made sure that everyone on the outside looking in thought we were the perfect family. Tom was the only other person to ever know the horror that went on inside my home. My mother’s mission in life was to make sure I knew that she hated me. That every moment I spent breathing was a burden to her. My father was too drunk to care and when he wasn’t, he stood beside her decisions, always looking the other way when things took a turn for the worse. I will not now, nor will I ever do that to my children. My every breath will be used to let them know how much I love them. I will spend every second of every day loving and nurturing them, molding them into the people they are meant to become. Every moment, even the smallest ones, will be spent showing them how much they mean to me. There will never be anything in this world that means more to me than they do. If you don’t believe or listen to anything I ever say, please believe that. Matter of fact, you can put your life savings on it. You have spent this entire session writing things down. Well, Doc, put that in writing and hand it here so I can sign it.” I’m not surprised at how confident my voice comes out because I mean what I’m saying with every single cell in my body.
Doc sits up straighter and tugs at her perfectly pressed white shirt before addressing me. “Those are some very passionate words.” She gives me a smile that reflects her pride back at me.
“That’s because I mean every word of it,” I reply passionately. Doc stands and stretches her perfectly manicured hand out to me. I accept it with a firm grip and we shake hands. I have a feeling this is sealing the commitment I just made to my child instead of a formal pleasantry, and that’s okay with me.
“Well, since we’re at a good place, let’s end today’s session here. I have to say, I’m extremely pleased with how this session went. I think you made great progress today alone. I look forward to talking more with you.”
“You, too, Doc.” I smile a genuine smile at her. My lips feel like they are going to split in two and my jaw aches from the effort. It’s been so long since I smiled a carefree smile that it feels foreign on my face.
Doctor Cox begins to leave, but then stops and turns to me. “Chloe, I’ll call you tomorrow to schedule your next session.”
I nod as she makes her exit. I reflect on our conversation and decide to write it down.
My hand starts cramping from gripping my pen so tightly. My writing is feverish; I’ve already filled several pages front and back. With every stroke of the pen, I feel one step closer to redemption, to freeing my soul from the confines of my mind.
My eyes begin to feel heavy, so I rest my journal and pen in my lap and close my eyes. I immediately drift off to sleep. For the first time since I can remember, my dreams aren’t plagued by my mother’s hateful words, Todd’s vicious attack, Tom’s death, or the twisted world my mind usually pulls me into. Instead, I’m pulled into a life I hope to someday have. I’m in a field of lavender under the only tree I can see. A small, dark curly haired little girl in a soft, yellow sundress sits in a swing that hangs from the large tree with her back to me. I watch her soft waves float on the wind in her swinging motion, and her childish giggles fill the air.
My heart fills with so much love that it feels as if it’s going to explode. She turns in her seat and looks at me. Her eyes are the color of emeralds. I reach out and push the swing so that she goes higher. Her laugh is contagious. Our laughs mingle and float away like the seeds of a dandelion. Her happiness is my own.
I don’t care who you’ll someday be
All I know is you’re a part of me
Daddy will love you till forever and more, this much is true
Those big blue eyes I’ll know the real you
I’ll take away your fears, I’ll make your eyes smile
I’m gonna have your back until my final hour
Daddy will love you till forever, this much is true
Those big blue eyes, I will see the real you
Please be blessed with your momma’s strawberry hair
and her big bright smile
Her beautiful heart and her wits and smarts
Daddy will love you till forever and more, this much is true
Daddy will always love you
The hardest thing I have ever done is walk out of that room, away from my kid, and away from Chloe. I know what I said, but there is that nagging little voice in the back of my head that keeps telling me that she didn’t know. The voice whispers that I was wrong about everything, and made a huge mistake. If I have, I don’t know how I will ever forgive myself.
I walk behind Sara and wheel her the rest of the way down the hall into the small waiting room. The moment we walk into the room, Harley stands to greet us.
“How is she?” He rushes the words out of his mouth.
“Momma and peanut are doing great,” Sara answers for me. My eyebrows jump toward the ceiling at the mention of her nickname for the baby.
“You okay there, pops. You look like you just found out you had unprotected sex and are expecting.” I don’t know why I’m surprised at Sara’s elegant choice of words, but she still catches me off guard at times. I only respond with a chuckle.
My phone rings and I look at my phone. Detective Sanders’ name is on the screen. My stomach drops to the floor. As much as I would like to, I know I can’t ignore his call.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Skye, this is D—”
“Yes, I know it’s you, detective,” I interrupt him. He’s silent for a moment.
“I just wanted to let you know that the state is rushing Todd’s trial. It’s tomorrow at nine a.m. Is there any way that Chloe will be able to testify?”
“No,” I say a little too venomously.
“Well, what about you? The prosecution needs a testimony to help seal the deal. They feel they can pull it off without one, but with an eyewitness account of the incident, it will cement the case.”
I think about it before I answer him. Chloe wouldn’t be considered stable enough to relay her accounts of the attack anyway.
“What time do I need to be there?” I ask.
“Can you meet with the prosecution at seven in the morning? That will give them time to run through everything before you go on the stand. This may be an all-day event.”
I don’t hesitate before answering. “I’ll be there.”
“Great! I will let the DA know.”
I hang up the phone. When I turn to go into the waiting room, I find Sara and Harley in the doorway, staring at me with questioning gazes.
“What was that about?” Sara asks.
“I’m taking Chloe’s place on the stand tomorrow.” I then relay all the information the detective gave me.
“Shit,” is Harley’s response.
We find a seat in the empty, sterile room. I dig through my phone and search parenting sites. There’re all kinds of stuff on these sites, everything from dry scalp remedies to diaper rash creams. Who knew there would be so much stuff involved in taking care of a kid? I always thought that if you fed them, played with them, gave them baths, and changed their diapers, everything was smooth sailing.
Hell, according to this magazine, you have to do everything a certain way or it can harm them.
“What’s wrong?” Sara’s voice fills the otherwise silent room.
“I have no clue what I’m going to do with a kid.”
She chuckles at my statement. “I don’t think anyone ever does until the kid gets here.” Her tone goes from amusement to serious.
“Hell, I don’t even know what a diaper looks like, let alone how to change one,” I say and she cracks up.
“You seriously have never seen a diaper? I find that hard to believe.” Why doesn’t she sound like she believes me? I don’t have any sisters that had baby dolls to play with. I had no baby cousins or anyone young enough to be in diapers to see them.
“Oh shit, you’re serious?” she laughs! Her eyes light up in amusement.
“Do you know how to change a diaper?” I was sure she had seen them but ne
ver actually changed one.
“Actually, I have an uncle that I used to babysit for, so yeah, I’ve changed a diaper before.” Her tone is so matter of fact and I can tell she is enjoying rubbing it in. She starts laughing so hard that tears are springing from her eyes.
“You’re going to end up like my uncle!” She points and laughs harder.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Harley questions.
“When he and my aunt split up, Jason was probably a little over a year old, I was fourteen. It was my uncle’s first weekend alone with the baby. I just got home from school when the phone rang. I answered and my uncle was cussing like crazy.” She pauses, trying to catch her breath.
“He said, ‘There’s shit everywhere. Get over here now!’ So I ran the block to his house. When I got there, I just walked inside, and he wasn’t lying. There was shit on the wall, all over the crib. The poor kid and his teddy bear were covered. My uncle looked like he was the main target. Apparently you can’t give a kid grape and apple juice without watering it down or limiting their intake. He didn’t and my cousin exploded while my uncle was mastering a pee diaper. Then my cousin stuck his hand in it and smeared it everywhere. It was so gross!” She finishes her story but continues to laugh.
Harley and I, however, find this horrifying. All I can picture is that kid off of the Gerber commercials with an exploding ass! How the hell am I going to do this, I’m not ready! Sara notices my look of panic and reaches out, grabbing my arm.
“Shit happens, Skye. You’re going to be a great dad.” She gives me a soft smile and winks. I don’t know if the pun was intended, but it wasn’t lost on me, so I couldn’t appreciate the moment like I should have. It’s not every day Sara offers compliments like that, but regardless, I would take it for what it was.
“Thanks.” I return her smile.
Forever & More: The Friend Zone series Page 12