Sand In My Boots: The Sequel

Chapter 1

TW : POSTPARTUM DEPRESSION

She'll be alright, they had said. You'll be able to take her home in a few weeks. Only a few weeks had turned into a few months and the only thing she had ever seen was the four walls of her hospital room.

It's a freak accident, these things never happen.

But they do. And they did. And they happened to us.

I stared at the hole in the ground in front of me. Did you know they made coffins that small? I could have gone my whole life without knowing. I wish I had gone my whole life without knowing. My knees were weak. A single tear rolled down my cheek. One of the hundreds of thousands I had shed this week. One of the millions more to come.

"Aubrey," Morgan said, pulling me out of my thoughts. I turned to look at him. He smiled.

"Why are you smiling?" I asked, my throat closing up on the words.

"'Cause it's your fault," he said, beaming. "You never listen to me. This is all your fault."

"Your fault," Jared added. "You did this. You killed your baby. You're a monster."

I looked around. Everyone was there. Everyone was smiling. Beaming. So much so that the sun and stars were blinded and begging them to stop.

"Why are you all smiling?! Stop smiling!" I screamed, my voice breaking as they lowered her into the ground.

"And to think I considered you my daughter," Lesli said.

"Aubrey! Aubrey," Morgan said, shaking me awake. I opened my eyes, gasping for air, my heart feeling like it was about to beat right out of my chest. "Are you okay? You were screaming," he said softly, pushing a sweat-drenched strand of hair off my forehead, his eyes looking as worried as they have every night for the past few months. I exhaled slowly, wiping the cold pearls of sweat off my face. I looked around the room, my eyes scanning my surroundings, searching for the only thing that could bring me comfort right now. There she was, in her little mesh bassinet, her eyes closed and her breathing smooth and peaceful.

"Thank god," I whispered out of breath, putting a hand to my chest.

"What happened this time?" he asked softly, pulling me in closer.

"Sailor, she was-" I started, my voice breaking. "You were telling me it was my fault and-"

"Shh," he whispered. "It's just a nightmare. Sailor's okay, nothing happened."

He stroked my hair gently, placing his lips on my forehead. "And nothing would've been your fault. You need to let go of that guilt. She's doing amazing, she's home now and I won't let anything happen to her. Or to you." He kissed my forehead. I sighed, snuggling up against his warm body.

Sailor had just turned almost six months old and the nightmares still hadn't stopped. She had been home for nearly four months now and I still hadn't been able to fill the giant gaping hole that her traumatizing birth had left in my chest. I was grateful to Morgan for the neverending patience he had been showing me. And to my new therapist, Dr. Finley, who, thankfully, I had an appointment with in the morning. We had been working on letting go of the constant guilt that had been inhabiting my being. The guilt of giving birth to Sailor prematurely because of a situation that could have been easily avoided -by me. The guilt of having ruined Jared and Morgan's friendship, which he kept insisting was not my fault, but still felt like it was. The guilt of having left him in the dust -Jared- after everything he had done for Ellie and I. The guilt of being a living, breathing thing when I felt as though I deserved nothing.

"I know postpartum can't be easy, but don't let that voice in your head get the best of you," Morgan said softly, pulling me out of my thoughts. I realized that he had been silently looking at me as I stared at the ceiling fan for the last fifteen minutes. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" he asked quietly.