Chasing Someday

Home > Other > Chasing Someday > Page 26
Chasing Someday Page 26

by Lindzee Armstrong


  “Of course.” Megan stepped inside, and Christina closed the door behind her. Aside from the disheveled hair and makeup, she looked just as she had the last time Megan saw her, at church on Sunday. Christina’s tall and slender frame hid her pregnancy well, and only a slight pooch at the middle gave any indication of her condition. That pooch was still there. How could the baby be gone?

  “Where’s Gary?” Megan asked.

  “Upstairs sleeping. We didn’t get home until four a.m. But I can’t fall asleep.”

  Megan sank onto the couch next to Christina, her heart so full of sorrow and disbelief she thought it would explode. “What happened?”

  Christina spoke quietly. Megan sat there for thirty minutes, asking questions as Christina explained.

  “Her heartbeat was strong right until the moment I pushed,” Christina said. Her hands were clutched in her lap, knuckles white. “But her lungs collapsed as soon as she was born. She was perfect, Megan. Beautiful.” She picked up a photo from the end table and handed it to Megan.

  Megan stared into the face of the tiniest baby she had ever seen. The skin was dark with what looked like bruising. The baby was clothed in a white dress that dwarfed her. As tiny as she was, Megan could tell she had Christina’s cheekbones, Gary’s oval-shaped face. A perfect blend of both their features.

  “She’s beautiful,” Megan said, unable to keep the thickness from her voice. She handed the photo back. “I am so sorry, Christina. I don’t even know what to say.” How could something like this have happened?

  Less than one percent, Christina had said. An incompetent cervix was present in less than one percent of pregnancies. Why did Christina’s have to be one of them? They had worked so hard for this baby, gone through so much. Why them?

  Please don’t let it be me, Megan thought and instantly felt guilty. Here she was, with three babies growing healthy and strong inside of her. And Christina had lost the only one she’d ever had.

  Christina played with the corner of the photograph. Her eyes were haunted, but Megan saw a strength in their depths. “I don’t want you to feel awkward around me, Meg. Please don’t shut me out.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I need you to share your pregnancy with me. I want to feel like I get that much, at least.”

  The full magnitude of the situation hit Megan. They had gone through this together, every step of the way. They’d been each other’s source of comfort and reassurance through the entire in vitro process and the early weeks of their pregnancies. But now their paths had diverged. Megan would continue on alone, leaving Christina to watch with anguish as Megan experienced everything they should have cherished together.

  It wasn’t fair.

  Megan blinked, trying to force back tears. Don’t cry, she commanded. She needed to be strong for Christina. A lone tear escaped and dripped down Megan’s cheek. She brushed it away, hoping Christina wouldn’t notice.

  “Christina?” Gary’s voice was frantic and worried.

  “I’m in here,” Christina said.

  Gary appeared, shoulders sagging. “I woke up, and you weren’t there. I got worried.”

  “I was telling Megan what happened.”

  “I am so sorry, Gary. If there is anything Trent or I can do for you . . .” The words felt empty, meaningless. How on earth could anyone heal this kind of hurt?

  No one could except God, and that would take time.

  “Thank you.” Gary cleared his throat, and his eyes were suspiciously red. “It still doesn’t seem real.”

  They talked for a few more minutes, and then Megan gave Christina a hug and left. Megan walked across the cold, frozen grass, letting the tears she’d been holding back finally fall. She went upstairs and collapsed on the bed, sobbing.

  It was so unfair. Her heart broke for Christina. Megan held her stomach, cradling the lives within. Be safe, she prayed. Stay healthy and keep growing.

  She heard the front door open and sat up, trying to dry her eyes. Trent must have decided to check on her during lunch. He’d been doing that a lot lately.

  “Megan?”

  “In the bedroom.”

  His footsteps creaked up the stairs. He paused in the doorway, then rushed to her. “What’s wrong?”

  Megan started to cry, then explained how Christina and Gary’s hearts had broken.

  Christina had been to her fair share of funerals—three grandparents, a few great-aunts, and even a co-worker to name a few. But she had never been to a funeral for a child. She had never imagined she would have to bury her baby.

  The hospital had asked them, as delicately as possible, what they wanted done with Grace’s body.

  “We want to bury her,” Christina had said immediately. She couldn’t imagine doing anything less for her baby.

  The grief counselor had nodded in approval. “Most couples find it helps the healing to have somewhere they can go to mourn.”

  They’d contacted the mortuary and made arrangements for a small graveside service, inviting only family and their close friends.

  As they pulled up to the graveside, Christina looked at the small hole, covered by a green tent with a few folding chairs underneath. Gary parked and came around to help her out of the car. They slowly walked up the gentle incline to the grave. It had snowed the night before, and the ground was covered in three inches of white.

  A tiny pink casket, no bigger than a doll bed, sat on the straps over the top of the grave. Christina placed her hand lightly on the casket and sighed. I miss you, angel. I miss you so much.

  Christina would give anything to have Grace still inside of her, growing healthy and strong. If Christina had gone to the doctor earlier in the day, would Grace still be alive?

  No, a voice whispered to Christina’s heart. It was her time. Their pastor had prayed with them that morning, and she’d felt that very strongly. Grace’s mission on earth was fulfilled.

  But why couldn’t she have stayed?

  Family and friends arrived, one by one: Elauna and Alexander; a few random aunts and cousins from Gary’s side of the family; Megan, Trent, Kyra, and David; Pastor Lynd and his wife. Gary and Christina greeted them with hugs and sad smiles. She barely held back the sobs when she watched a crying Elauna place a tiny stuffed pink bear next to the casket. Gary’s parents had been an unexpected source of strength the last few days.

  “I think that’s everyone,” Christina told Gary, looking around at the small crowd.

  “Let’s wait a minute longer,” he said.

  Normally Christina would have argued against starting late. But today was about them. If Gary needed a few extra minutes, he would get them.

  A black SUV pulled to a stop behind their Lexus. Probably a mourner, come to place flowers on a nearby grave. Christina’s mouth fell open when her mother stepped out of the vehicle, followed by her father. She started to tremble, then ran down the short embankment and threw her arms around her mom. Her mother’s arms wrapped around Christina, and Christina leaned into her and sobbed.

  “I didn’t think you were coming,” Christina said. She hadn’t even considered asking them to make the trip from France.

  “We couldn’t stay away,” her mother said. “We told Gary about our flight arrangements two days ago, but he wanted to surprise you.” Tears trailed down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Christina.”

  Christina turned to her father next. Being encircled in her parents’ arms helped soothe her aching heart in a way nothing else could.

  Christina’s mom held an arm tightly around her as the pastor started the services. He spoke a few words, and though Christina couldn’t concentrate on what he said, a blanket of comfort surrounded her. Grace’s death would never be something she got over or forgot. But she could move past the pain, with the Lord’s help.

  The pastor gave a moving sermon, and then Gary offered a prayer over the grave. He looked handsome in an expensive designer suit, but the hunched shoulders and haunted eyes made him seem broken. Christina turned he
r face into her mother’s shoulder and sobbed. Gary folded his arms and began to pray. “Your mother and I love you, Grace, and look forward to the day we can be with you again.” His voice choked on the words.

  No man should have to pray over his child’s grave, Christina thought as her shoulders shook. Especially when he’s not even thirty.

  It wasn’t fair.

  After the dedication, the pastor stepped forward. “Christina and Gary asked Megan Burke to play a piano rendition of ‘All Through the Night.’ She recorded it for us since we couldn’t bring a piano here.” He pushed a button on Christina’s iPod.

  The hauntingly beautiful strains of “All Through the Night” filled the air. Megan had played the song perfectly, even though Christina knew she’d only had a few days to learn it.

  “All Through the Night.” That was the song from Christina’s statue of a mother rocking her baby. The one Gary had given her when she found out she was pregnant. It seemed fitting for the occasion.

  Gary wrapped an arm around Christina, kissing her temple as the final measure of the song filled the air. After the final note, all was quiet. The pastor stepped forward and thanked everyone for coming.

  People came forward with murmured condolences. Megan gave Christina a long hug, her stomach pressed against Christina’s. Christina squeezed her eyes shut, wishing so badly they were still in this together. If only she could rewind time.

  “Thank you for the song,” Christina told Megan. “It was beautiful.”

  “Of course. If you need anything, call me.”

  Christina nodded, grateful for Megan’s friendship. She would need her in the days to come.

  And then it was just Christina and Gary and Grace. Gary wrapped his arm around Christina, and she leaned into him. The cold was biting, but she didn’t care. She wanted to stay here with Grace forever.

  “That was a beautiful prayer,” Christina said.

  “Thank you.” He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. Christina squeezed her eyes shut at the sight of his pain. “It’s going to be okay. I don’t know how. I don’t know when. But it will be.”

  “I know.” Christina plucked a rose from an arrangement near the grave. She kissed it, and placed it gently on top of Grace’s casket. “I love you, my little angel,” she whispered.

  One day, she would hold Grace again. She would raise her and do all the things she had dreamed about. But she had never imagined all those things would take place in the next life.

  Christina gulped and let Gary lead her from the cemetery. It was time to leave.

  After a miserable Thanksgiving, Christina’s parents flew home, and she returned to work.

  Her hands gripped the steering wheel as she drove through the snow to school. How would she explain this to the students? How would she answer their questions without falling apart? They were six years old. They would have lots of questions, and most of them wouldn’t be phrased in a sensitive and tactful way.

  Christina’s heels echoed in the quiet school hallways. Some of the tension of the last ten days drained away as she stood in the center of her classroom, breathing deeply. The familiarity of the twenty-eight little desks, the smell of dry erase and antiseptic, blended together in a comfortable harmony. Home.

  It felt good to be back.

  Stacey checked on Christina within minutes, followed by Principal Gardner and Linda. When the bell rang, Christina went to pick up her students. The kids followed her into the classroom, more somber than she’d ever seen them.

  “Put away your things and meet me at the rug,” Christina said. She needed to explain to them what had happened. Needed to help them understand. They’d been excited about the baby, too.

  The students quietly did as instructed. Twenty-eight little faces stared up at Christina with concern and apprehension.

  “I’ve missed all of you,” she told them. “Do you know why I’ve been gone?”

  A little voice spoke up hesitantly. “Mrs. Applegate said your baby died.”

  Christina blinked, trying to hold back the tears. She couldn’t let her students see her cry. “That’s right.”

  “Why?” someone asked.

  “My body thought it was time for the baby to be born, even though it wasn’t,” Christina said. “The baby was too small to live outside my stomach yet.”

  “Mrs. Applegate said it was a girl.”

  “Yes. Her name is Grace.”

  For a half hour Christina answered their questions and reassured them everything in their lives would continue on as normal. A student brought her a giant envelope, filled to the brim with notes. Stacey had helped both her class and Christina’s make them while Christina was gone.

  Christina felt happier than she had since losing Grace. She didn’t have a baby to hold, but she did have her students. And even though it wasn’t the same, she cared about them, and they cared about her. It felt good to talk about Grace with them. They didn’t tiptoe around the situation. They weren’t afraid to ask the hard questions. Their genuine love and concern helped heal Christina’s broken heart.

  After the discussion, the students resumed their typical noisiness, and the day went on as usual. Christina soaked the normalcy in like a balm. When the day ended, she reluctantly left for her empty home. She was surprised to find Gary waiting for her there.

  “What are you doing home already?” she asked.

  “I wanted to see how your day went.” He took her hand gently in his. “How are you?”

  “Surprisingly okay.” Christina chewed on her lip, then admitted something she’d thought about all day. “I don’t want to try again, Gary.”

  His eyes widened. “You don’t want a baby?”

  Christina cursed the tears that always seemed so close to the surface. “Of course I want a baby. But this . . .” She motioned vaguely to the room. “I can’t bear the thought of going through this again anytime soon.”

  He shifted from foot to foot, seeming agitated. “The doctor said next time we’ll do the surgery, and it won’t happen. We’ll—”

  Christina put a hand to his lips, quieting him. “I can’t. I’m not ready for any of it again, for in vitro, for worrying constantly about miscarriage, for the stress of the surgery. I want to wait, Gar. Please.”

  His eyes were pained. “I’m finally ready to be a dad. Grace helped me get there. I want a baby.”

  “I know. And you will be an amazing father. But I need time. I realized today that for now, my students are enough.” Christina thought for a moment, not sure how to phrase what she needed to say next. “I want to make sure the next baby isn’t just a way to replace the void Grace left. I feel like if we tried again now, we’d be trying to erase what happened. I don’t want to forget.”

  “I never want to replace Grace. But your endometriosis gets worse every day. We might not be able to wait very long.”

  “I know.” Christina put a hand on his chest. “I’m not talking about waiting forever. Maybe six months. We both need time to heal. Let’s work on us for a while.”

  Gary leaned down and kissed her. “Six months, and then we’ll re-evaluate. For Grace.”

  The next few weeks were stressful for Kyra, but blissful too. The only dark cloud was Grace’s funeral. Kyra felt guilty preparing for the birth of her child while Christina suffered through the loss of hers. Kyra knew what it felt like to lose a baby, though not in the same way as Christina. It wasn’t something she’d wish on her worst enemy, let alone a dear friend.

  As Sienna’s due date drew closer, she spent more and more time with Kyra. Sienna even surprised Kyra by requesting to help prepare the nursery.

  They decided to see what could be reused from Sophie’s baby stuff. Sophie had fallen in love with Sienna and sat by her side chatting as Kyra brought boxes up from the basement.

  “Aunt Sienna, I can’t wait until my baby brother is born,” Sophie said as Kyra opened the first box. “Can I feel him kick again?”

  “Sophie,” Kyra said. She didn�
�t want to make this any harder on Sienna than it had to be.

  “It’s okay,” Sienna said. She took Sophie’s hand and placed it on her belly. “Did you feel that?”

  Sophie giggled. “He likes me.”

  “Yeah, I think he does.”

  They spent the next two hours going through boxes. Most of the clothing was too girly to reuse, but some of the receiving blankets and onesies would be okay.

  “I think that’s enough for today,” Kyra said. “You look tired.”

  “I’m fine.” Sienna struggled to stand. “Didn’t you say you wanted to clear out Sophie’s toy room today?”

  “I want to get started at least.” Kyra held out a hand. “Here, let me help you up.”

  “Thanks.” Sienna stood, then gasped as her pants grew soaked. Sienna looked at Kyra in horror.

  “Mommy, look.” Sophie pointed to Sienna’s wet pants.

  “I swear I didn’t pee my pants,” Sienna said. “What happened?”

  “I think your water broke,” Kyra said. “Oh my gosh. Your water broke! We’ve got to go to the hospital.”

  “But I’m not due for another two weeks.”

  “I don’t think the baby knows that.”

  Sienna motioned to Sophie. “What about her?”

  “I’ll drop her off at Cassandra’s. Call your mom and tell her to meet us there. I think I have some sweat pants you can wear to the hospital.”

  Sienna changed, and Kyra rushed Sophie to Cassandra’s while Sienna called her mom. Sienna was just hanging up when Kyra got into the car.

  “Seat belt on,” Kyra reminded Sienna as she started the car.

  Sienna complied, tears streaking down her cheeks.

  Kyra took Sienna’s hand in hers. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. I’ll get you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you having contractions?”

  Sienna hiccupped. “I don’t know. What does a contraction feel like?”

  Kyra peeled out of the driveway and turned toward the hospital. “If you were having contractions, you’d know.”

  Sienna let out a gasp. “I think that was one. That hurt! Tell the doctor to make it stop, and we’ll come back on my due date.”

 

‹ Prev