Zade

Trigger Warning: This story contains a miscarriage.

It’s been 7 days. Only one week since Emily wrapped her arms around her legs in the shower. Since clots of blood flowed out of her body. Since tears and water couldn’t be distinguished as they rolled down her face into the shower. She couldn’t contain the sobs that racked her body or calculate the time that passed as she remained there. 

Just yesterday she heard herself tell her coworker that it was only 8 weeks. It was an excuse that rolled off her tongue easily that spoke to why she shouldn’t be that upset. She could tell that no one believed it. Not even herself. 

His name was Zade. She never shared that with anyone. Not with her husband or her mom or anyone. She felt ridiculous naming a child which she only knew about for a couple weeks and she had no idea the gender. And yet in her mind it was a him. It was Zade. He was supposed to be her first and she lost him. Can you lose something you never really had? She thought to herself as she got ready to go to work. Once she was in her car, her brain went into a fog, trying not to think of anything as she drove.

Emily arrived at the school that she works at as a teacher. She decided to use the door that is the furthest from the office of the only coworker that she had told. She doesn’t think she can make it through yet another conversation where she is asked if she’s ok. I’m ok I’m ok, she thought. But she knew the truth. The moment she was asked, she would be crying. Another day of crying sounds exhausting and she is trying to avoid it at all costs. Not only does she already feel bad but then she feels guilty. She follows a woman on Instagram and that woman has been trying for a child for years. Negative test after negative test. How dare you cry when there are women way worse off, is the thought that weighs on her mind. You don’t even know if you want a kid, her self-deprecating thoughts continue to float around as she makes it to her classroom.

On her way home later that day, she decided she wasn’t going to show her husband her feelings of sadness anymore. He would just worry about her. She could see it in his face. So when he walked in the house from work, she smiled at him, asked him about his day and then they had dinner together. She did not cry or allow herself to go into a fog. She just talked and listened, hoping that would make her feel better. Only when her face was turned the other way in the darkness of her room, did she then allow herself to cry again. I will never know him. Never know his face or personality, she thought. She fell asleep to the sounds of her husband’s breathing and the tears drying. 

The next morning, she got a message from her medical provider asking if she wanted to go back on the medication that regulates her ovulation. It was so straight forward. No pleasantries. No mention of how this could be painful for her or how sorry they were. Nothing. Just a yes or a no. She didn’t respond.

Time passes as it always does. There are less triggers for the crying. She no longer avoids the office of her coworker. She doesn’t suppress feelings any longer when her husband gets home. She doesn’t have to face away from him in bed. The event in her phone calendar entitled “Zade” does make her pause for a moment once a month but it no longer feels like a blow to her chest or a fog over her mind. The pain drifts further away. She wishes she could go back to the days she was feeling guilty for being in pain and tell herself: Of course you want a kid, your pain is telling you that. Now she just believes it was a revelation that she needed to learn the hard way. She tries not to live in those desires often. She’s afraid she’ll be hurt again but at least she now knows that she does in fact want a kid. 

Days come and they go. Seasons change. She works, works, and then works some more. Finally, she goes on vacation. She stepped into Cafe Central in Vienna. She looked around at the red upholstery, pillars, and curved ceiling. She could smell the beloved coffee wafting through the air. She knew that she would enjoy the coffee here of all places but when the menu came she couldn’t picture having a coffee. It didn’t sound good. The thought threw her off. She always drinks coffee. 

After consuming her tea and dessert, she and her husband strolled the streets of Vienna. They walked down alleyways, past a palace, beautiful lights hanging in the streets, and beautiful shops all around. A thought began to grow in her mind as she explored the city. It was a thought she had not allowed herself to visit until this moment. What if I’m wrong? She thought. I will just be in more pain. What if it doesn’t work out? What if another is lost?

As she went to sleep that night, she decided that she wasn’t going to dwell on those thoughts right now. She wanted to wait til she was home. Wait for later to worry about it. And that’s just what she did. She traversed through the Austrian Alps without dwelling another moment on those thoughts, all the while with a tea in her hand. 

Tonight, she holds Charlie’s face close to hers. He has blonde hair and observant blue eyes. It feels like they have been staring at her since he was born. There are two small scabs where he hit his head two days ago from flopping around as he is in the habit of doing. His cheeks are pink from the time he spent outside in nature today. She laughs as she remembers how he pulled at the dirt and grass from the ground. For a moment her mind flashes to Zade. What would he have been like? She dwells on this thought for a moment and then bends down putting kisses and makes noises on Charlie’s neck. He giggles.