Stranger

TW: CHILD LOSS, SMALL SELF HARM (hit head on purpose- no blood.)

I sat in the middle of traffic, hot tears streaming down my face. A small sob escaped my throat. This would not work out. He would blame me. Say it was my fault. This was a cruel world, no one knows why it works this way.

I could not believe it when I got the news. This would ruin my world, my life, my mind. My hand went to my stomach. She was in there. Not breathing. Not alive. Her life over before it had even begun. Another sob. I knocked my head against my steering wheel a few times. I didn’t want to go back to my house. I didn’t want my dad to look at me in scorn upon hearing the news he had lost his first granddaughter. I didn’t want my mother’s overbearing love and the hugs I knew she would smother me with. I banged my head again.

I squeezed my eyes closed. Opening them for a second, I got on my phone and checked the traffic update. It said people in traffic would be sitting there for another couple hours.

“AUGGH!” I screamed in frustration and agony and sadness. I hit my head against my wheel again. I jumped hard as a knock came on my window. It was a man. Tall, dark haired, handsome. I looked at him. He waited a few seconds, I think because he was waiting for me to roll my window down. He finally motioned for me to roll my window down. I realized how insane I must look, mascara streaming down my face, puffy eyes, red nose. I rolled my window down and sniffed.

“Hello..” the man said. I nodded my head at him and whispered “Hi.” I looked down at my lap. He waited a few seconds. “My name is Mason. I just- … I was just in my car… and I saw that you… seem to be having a bad day…?” I looked up at him and blinked tears out of my eyes. “Yeah,” I whispered. “Do you want to talk about it?” I blinked. This stranger was trying to help me feel better. This person was proof that there was still humanity left in this world.

“Well, usually I don’t talk to strangers, but yeah.” I unlocked my car doors and watched Mason get into my passenger seat. He turned in his seat and took a deep breath. “What’s happening?” He asked me. And then waited. I looked at this random stranger that I just let into my car to pour out my life problems to. I put my hands on my stomach again, feeling the tears start flowing again. “I went and got an ultrasound today…” I hesitated in my speaking, hearing my voice waver. “And they couldn’t find a heartbeat.” Mason looked at me, his eyes softening in sympathy. “They’re having me back tomorrow to perform an emergency c-section so that her body doesn’t decompose in me and make me sick.”

“I’m so sorry. I- I never got your name either.” My mind blanked on my own name. “Um… Amelia. My name is Amelia.” “I’m sorry Amelia. I could never understand the pain you’re going through, but I could try to make it better. Maybe… You can call me sometime? I’ll always have my phone on me so if you need to talk, you can call and I’ll more than likely answer the phone.” I nodded and got into my glove compartment. “Here, write your number on this,” I told him, handing him a note pad. My voice was still whispery, but I couldn’t figure out how to talk normally. He sensed that I was having trouble processing. He put his hand gently on my shoulder, and told me everything would be alright.

About 30 minutes later he finally got out of my car. I thought back on our conversation. How this stranger in the middle of a traffic jam had just suddenly become my best friend. I shook my head at myself.

* * *

That night, my parents had berated me, telling me that it had been my fault that my daughter died. How I must have drank or smoked or something. Even though I had never drank or smoked in my life. I went to my room and went on the computer, looking for apartments or a house I could buy or rent for cheap. I went to sleep silently crying. The next day, I walked into the clinic where I would get my c-section. They told me that I could have one phone call to call someone to be in the room with me when the surgery happened. Mason, I thought. I pulled out my phone and called the number he had given me.

He answered after two rings. Hello? “Mason?” This is him. Who’s this? “Um, I’m- It’s Amelia.” Oh, hi again. What do you need? “Um, I’m at the clinic, where they’re going to perform the c-section. They um, they told me that I could have someone with me when I got it done.” Well that’s nice of them. Who are you choosing? “I um, well, I was hoping you would come and be here with me?” Oh. OH. Oh, Yeah, Yeah I’m on my way, don’t let it happen yet. Where are you at? “I’m at the Riverside clinic near the old neon golfing place.” Okay, I’m on my way. I'll be there in 10 minutes tops. “Thank you, this means so much to me.” No problem girly, I’ll be there soon. Bye now. “Bye, Mason.”

I told the nurse that the person I’d called for was on his way, and I sat and waited for him in the lobby. When he showed up, I ran to him, and he pulled me into a tight hug. “It’s okay, he reassured me. I'll be here with you in every step of the process.” He planted a kiss on the top of my head.

* * *

The surgery went well. There were no complications, and I didn’t feel a single thing. Mason held my hand the entire time, keeping me sane. I cried a few times, but other than that did nothing but lay there and let the process take place. I had my baby girl cremated, and kept her in a special little urn.

A few months later, I moved into Mason’s place with him, after I got to know him a little better, and I cut off communication from my parents. They were toxic people, and I could see how much they had truly put me down in life. And as it does, the friendship between Mason and I bloomed and grew into something else. A romantic relationship. About 2 years later, things happened, and we had our own little girl, who was a successful pregnancy, and who we named Lily, in memory of my other little girl who I was going to name Rose. I talk to my little girl in the urn every day, and to this day, still have her urn on a shelf - completely visible to everyone who comes through our front door.