Whispering Waves

by Jamie Berris

  What a day. I’m beat. I spent the entire afternoon putting the final touches on the girls’ Halloween costumes. Why don’t I just buy costumes? Sadie wanted to be Britney Spears (from her younger days), and she wanted to look exactly as Britney does in the video of “Baby One More Time” where she wears the school girl outfit. So after watching the music video a hundred times, I made the pleated skirt and ran all over town to find the over-the-knee gray socks, the perfect gray sweater, and white collared shirt. Sadie does not have Britney’s blond hair, so we bought a wig and styled it in braided pigtails.

  Jayna’s costume was a lot more fun to make than Sadie’s. She is going as a butterfly this year. We picked out pretty purple, pink, yellow, and turquoise sheer fabrics for a dress design with a butterfly body sewn in. She has these gigantic wings that flutter ever so gracefully when she walks.

  I just pray no one mistakes her for an angel. My dear Jayna will scream at them if they do!

  I’ve never been so ahead of myself. I’m usually frantically finishing costumes in the eleventh hour. I guess this is what happens when my social life is pulled out from beneath me. No more tennis, no lunches with Marissa, no going for walks together, talking for endless hours on the phone, or going on shopping excursions after we drop the kids at school.

  I hope Marissa and I don’t run into each other at the school Halloween party. Paige’s classroom is right next door to Sadie’s. Maybe I should dress up in full disguise. I could wear a mask or be a ghost and drape a sheet over myself.

  Now that my belly is showing, people are always making comments about how cute I look or asking when the baby is due and if we know the sex. I don’t want all this attention, but I’ve become accustomed to putting on a good show when I need to. I fear someone will be gushing over my pregnancy and Marissa will walk around the corner.

  Sadie flipped forward through a few pages and sat down on the cold cement in the storage room. She knew that once she opened the diary it would be difficult to put it down—especially since, when she was reading it, she could hear her mom’s voice crystal clear.

  November 8, 2009

  I had quite the scare today. I woke up and I was spotting. By the time I got home from taking the girls to school, it was heavy and I was cramping.

  On the way to the doctor’s office, I was trembling and crying. So many things were going through my head. I was frightened of losing the baby. I was frightened that something was wrong with the baby and I was going to have a premature delivery. I was frightened because the thought of losing the baby also made me wonder if it would be the best thing. I was most frightened because I realized how much I already loved this baby and I did NOT want to lose it! By the time I arrived in the parking lot, I was crying so hard I was nearly hyperventilating.

  The ultrasound confirmed that the baby was fine. By the end of my visit, the spotting had decreased significantly. The doctor had questioned me about what I had done in the previous days, and I hadn’t thought much about all the heavy lifting I had done: getting out all the tubs of Thanksgiving decorations and throwing out the rotting pumpkins on the front porch.

  She concluded that I had just overdone it and that my body was reacting by spotting. She advised me to take it easy and ask for help when doing strenuous work. Yeah, right, I thought. I have been trying to be a super woman throughout this pregnancy, attempting to do it all, not complain or ask for help from Kurt. I feel like if I do, he will only think bad thoughts of how I deserve to feel lousy or I don’t deserve help.

  I tried to be strong all evening, but then after I put the girls to bed, I was so exhausted and so relieved and so angry for my thoughts that I broke down in his arms. I wasn’t going to tell him about the spotting or the doctor’s visit, but I needed him. I needed him so badly to hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay.

  I sobbed in his arms as I told him my thoughts—that part of me had maybe hoped for a miscarriage, that the other part of me would be devastated, and that I was so, so sorry for what I had done.

  He didn’t say much more than “It’s okay, it’s okay” as he rubbed the back of my head and let me cry. When I went to go get a tissue, he called my name. When I turned around, he looked straight in my eyes and told me, “Everything will work out.” I wonder if he realizes that is all I think about.

  December 11, 2009

  Kurt and I did our annual Christmas shopping day and dinner out tonight. I knew it was inevitable that I would run into her sooner or later. We saw Marissa, twice: once in the mall and again having dinner at Blue Water Grill. The first encounter was for sure coincidental. The second, I have a hard time believing the same, since Marissa out of all people knows that every year after Kurt and I finish Christmas shopping for the girls we go to Blue Water Grill.

  I swear she was at the mall alone. I had held up a bright orange sweater that looked so much like Sadie, and next thing I knew, I was staring in the eyes of Marissa. She was holding the same sweater up in yellow.

  I fumbled and started to speak to her, saying something about Christmas shopping for the girls, but she looked at me as if I were the biggest piece of scum she had ever seen and walked out of the store.

  Kurt had seen it all unfold from across the store. He saw us standing next to each other, oblivious to one another, but he knew it was best if he stayed back at a distance. In other words, he was panicking, nervous as hell that we were going to get into a brawl!

  I would be lying if I said it didn’t bother me, but it didn’t completely ruin my day either. For Kurt’s sake, I didn’t allow it to. When I was pregnant with Sadie and Jayna, I walked around a proud mother. Sometimes acknowledging this baby makes me feel ashamed. I wonder if Kurt is ashamed, disgusted, or repulsed by my growing belly.

  Anyway, I really wasn’t surprised when I saw Marissa sitting at the bar at Blue Water Grill with a man I didn’t recognize. She had probably been there before Kurt and I even arrived, possibly watching us the entire hour we had been dining. I didn’t notice her until I was walking back to our table from the bathroom. Thankfully, her back was to me.

  Once I sat down, I realized she had a straight view of our table. Kurt handed me my spoon, waiting for me to dig into my favorite chocolate cheesecake, and I couldn’t swallow one bite.

  I couldn’t help but look in her direction. She was laughing with this guy, throwing her head back like he had told the funniest joke she had ever heard. When she took a sip of her wine, our eyes met and locked. Once again, her eyes were full of hate and disgust.

  Kurt followed my gaze and muttered something when he saw her, so we boxed the dessert and left. The fact that she just looks at me and doesn’t say a word hurts worse than if she were to scream in my face. I’m not even worthy of that!

  December 20, 2009

  I’m feeling really weepy and I can’t shake it. The girls are out of school for Christmas vacation. We’ve been wrapping presents, baking cookies, going sledding, and are set to go downtown and ride in the horse carriage and look at the twinkling lights around town tonight after Kurt gets home.

  The girls are so excited about this baby, and when they talk about it, I get excited too. They kiss and hug my belly and talk to the baby. I even forget the circumstances for a moment and everything seems wonderful. It’s when Kurt comes home that my attitude changes. The girls always want to talk baby names, and I hate to even bring it up around him.

  I feel like our relationship is on a rollercoaster, climbing one minute, plummeting the next. I can’t tell if it’s from his attitude or my fear. As the pregnancy progresses, I get more afraid of Kurt rejecting this baby. Would he dislike a boy more than a girl because a boy would be more like Marcus? Will he hug and kiss this baby? Will he be helpful with feeding and changing diapers? Or will this baby be my responsibility alone?

  Would it be worse if Kurt rejected the baby or me? I never know whether I should try and initiate sex. I fear he will shove me away. When we do have sex, I can’t help but wonder if he is just going
through the motions of marriage. I resent myself. How can’t he?

  Sadie wiped a tear from her eye. She couldn’t imagine what her mother went through. She couldn’t imagine how her dad dealt with it and Marissa too. It wasn’t until now that she really, really thought about the deep feelings of each of them from their own perspective. Each one of their stories had their own twist of sadness.

  December 25, 2009

  It appeared to be a perfect Christmas inside the Booker household. The girls were up at 6:30 a.m., squealing and excited that Rudolph had led Santa Claus to our house once again. We opened presents with Christmas carols playing in the background, the fire crackling, and a fresh coat of sparkling white snow out the window.

  The homemade cinnamon rolls reserved for Christmas and birthdays were heaven, the omelets cooked to perfection, and the aroma of freshly ground and brewed coffee filled the kitchen.

  My parents, along with Nevie, Josie, and some guy she picked up at a conference two months ago named Rick, all came over for dinner, along with Kurt’s sister Stacy and her family. Stacy knows something is up between Kurt and me. That is something I don’t even have the energy to write about tonight. I will never willingly confide in my sis-in-law Stacy. NEVER!

  I baked prime rib and steamed crab legs and made the Swiss cheese and onion poppy seed bread that I do every year. Mom made the au gratin potatoes and salad, Nevie made her seven-layer dip appetizer, Josie brought enough wine, beer, and vodka to last until next Christmas, and Stacy made enough desserts to last us until Easter.

  It was the same as every year past. The only thing that changed was who Josie brought to the table. Nevie never brought a date. She said if she ever brought someone it would be because she married him in a drunken stupor in Vegas. My sisters will forever live the New York single life.

  This year everyone was excited to think that next year the baby would be crawling around. At some point, I should confide in my mom and sisters, well, maybe just Nevie and Josie. Mom would bring it up under her breath every opportunity she got. I’m afraid to ask Kurt if it’s okay to tell them. I need them.

  Kurt went over the top with gifts for me this year. It started with perfume, clothes, the most beautiful and expensive crib/bedroom set for the baby, and even a brand new Infiniti QX 56 in the garage with a bow on it. I think he is trying too hard to love me, to gift me, to make everything okay when it’s not.

  We haven’t fought, and we don’t mention the names of Marcus or Marissa. He’s acting as if this is his baby and everything is just dandy. I should be grateful. Instead, I’m freaking out, paranoid he will wake up one day and want out.

  I feel so bottled up, and I know he does too, but he refuses to show it. I see it in his eyes when he looks at me. I feel it in the way he touches me. Everything is NOT okay. I want him to yell and scream at me. I want him to get it out of his system and tell me how hurt and angry he is, because I know he is.

  Both Sadie and Jayna said this was the best Christmas they ever had. They say that every year.

  Maybe faking that your life is wonderful and perfect will eventually make it so. Maybe that’s what Kurt is trying to do? Fake it until he believes it! Fake it until it becomes reality.

  December 31, 2009

  Sadie and Jayna have both asked why we haven’t been hanging around with Paige and Marissa. Once school started, it was easy to make excuses. Then I told them about Marissa and Marcus getting a divorce and that Marissa was too sad and stays home a lot. Or I’ve said that Marissa and I get together during school days, but now they are really starting to question me.

  We have spent New Year’s Eve with Marissa and Marcus since college. They keep asking when Marissa and Paige will be over, and of course, I have made up another excuse, saying they are visiting family. Basically, I’m a liar now too.

  I just booked us a room at the hotel across town that has an indoor pool with a slide. Hopefully, a night swimming will distract them enough so that they at least stop asking why we aren’t having our annual party.

  Kurt is in the pool house, helping the girls find their goggles and squirt guns. I promised them we’d order pizza and watch the ball drop in our room and have the best party ever. I’ve decided to stop at the grocery store on the way and let them pick out every junk food item I usually ban from their diet. If they want pop, they can have that too.

  Tomorrow seems like a good day to bring up marriage counseling to Kurt. This is going to be a year to put our marriage to the test! I need to hear what Kurt is really thinking, because I know he is biting his tongue, and I want and need to hear him get it off his chest. I think if we were in counseling together he might open up.

  I’m craving for him to spit some nasty words at me. I believe I deserve it.

  Sadie looked up from the diary and remembered the very night she was reading about. She remembered going to the hotel and eating pizza by the pool. Crazy as it seemed, she remembered her mom letting them drink orange and grape pop and eat sour cream and onion potato chips loaded with dip, and sweets too—sugar cookies thick with frosting and sprinkles, gummy worms, Twinkies, and donuts and hot chocolate for breakfast the next morning.

  She remembered it so well because they were never allowed to eat like that, and they talked about it for months afterward—especially whenever Sadie and Jayna went to the grocery store with their mom and begged for more of the same junk and always got turned down.

  It was after New Year’s that Sadie remembered not really asking about Paige and Marissa anymore because she knew her mom was getting upset about it. Sadie and Paige were not in the same classroom at school, and they didn’t really seek each other out at recess anymore.

  Sadie was deep in thought when she heard the pitter-patter of little feet run across the kitchen tile above her. She quickly tossed the diary back in the tub. Before she sealed the lid and stored it back on the shelf, she grabbed the next diary, labeled Winter 2010. She quietly snuck up to the main floor and then cut through the foyer and used the front steps to go upstairs to her bedroom.

  Locking her door, she made herself cozy on the window bed. She saw her dad and Marissa sitting in the golf cart and then Nicholas shooting out the back door, running towards them with his hat and gloves in hand. It was a chilly fall evening.

  Sadie pulled a blanket around her, determined to read this diary cover to cover tonight. She knew that it went through April, well past the birth of Nicholas in February. She wondered if her mother was with her now, knowing what she was about to do. She wondered if her mom would be upset. Sadie justified it, thinking it would help her understand the situation between her mom and dad, and also with Marissa.

  Down below, Nicholas snuggled himself between Kurt and Marissa in the front seat of the golf cart, and they took off for a ride around the neighborhood. Every time Sadie watched Nicholas with Marissa, she could tell his love for her was getting deeper, like her dad’s, she supposed. Sadie realized she no longer felt irritated.

  January 3, 2010

  We had our first counseling session today, and I think it went pretty well, even though I was the one crying my eyes out while Kurt sat there dry-eyed. Did I expect any different? Not really. It was surprisingly easy to get him there. I brought it up lying in bed, in the dark, at the end of New Year’s Day (I couldn’t look at him when I suggested it). I took the cowardly approach, which I might add has become customary to me. Anyway, he agreed, saying it was a good idea for us to be able to talk through our problems with someone we can trust.

  We have no one but each other to talk to at this point. We haven’t discussed whether we will confide in select family members at some point. As of now, I’m too ashamed to even think about it.

  Our counselor was a referral from my doctor who prescribes my medication. Not taking any anxiety pills during this pregnancy has been tough, but incredibly liberating. Dealing with my emotions instead of always coating them is giving me a healthy satisfaction.

  We spent two hours in therapy today—forty-five
minutes individually with Trisha and then thirty minutes together with her at the end.

  I basically told her our situation from my point of view, and Kurt told it to her from his. I wish I could have been a fly on the wall during their session. I was speaking so fast during mine, trying to get everything out in the open in our forty-five minutes, that she probably thinks I’m a nut case. I was sobbing and shaking uncontrollably.

  I told Trisha that one of my biggest fears is that Kurt is bottling his anger towards me and that, soon, after the baby is born, he’ll resent us both so badly that he will leave. I explained that I play these scenes over and over in my head that Kurt takes me to court for custody of the girls and I’m left divorced and alone with this baby to raise.

  My fears, about the intimacy that a husband and a wife usually share in the delivery room while a child is being born, are mounting to a near panic as each day passes. I confided that I am also mourning the loss of my best friend. I miss Marissa so much it hurts. What I did to her is the worst possible thing a friend could do. I need to talk to someone about it, and I don’t dare mention to Kurt how bad I’m hurting.

  Trisha already brought up my concerns about Kurt not expressing his feelings openly. She used words like, “Lydia feels like you may be carrying around a tremendous amount of anger that you aren’t discussing with her.” She then looked from Kurt to me and back to Kurt as she patiently waited for him to respond.

  Trisha looked me in the eye and stated, “Kurt is having a hard time figuring out your feelings toward the baby. He’s nervous that you aren’t going to create a bond with the baby. He feels you think he doesn’t want you to love the baby.”

  I was crying so hard I could barely get my words out. I was sweating. I was a mess! Kurt was holding my hand and rubbing my back.

  We both agreed we needed to set aside time at night to talk through our anxieties. She suggested that, along with our twice weekly sessions with her, we also set up a weekly session of our own without Trisha. She asked us to write down our topics of discussion before we had our sessions so that we would be thinking ahead about what we needed to get off our chests.