Forced Reconciliation

51.

Andi Rhoades

When you're growing up, you hear about these terrible things happening to people around you and you always think to yourself, 'that won't ever happen to me.' I tend to still think that, my naive thoughts get the better of me and trick me into thinking that life won't ever get to the point where it treats me so poorly.

But then as soon as I feel like I'm pulled into those moments where I'm at my version of rock bottom, I can't help but think how much worse it could be, and think about the fact that others have experienced so much worse always has me feeling guilty for being upset.

I know that's not a healthy mindset because just because someone else has it harder, shouldn't diminish my hard times. But I can't seem to pull myself out of the guilty thoughts that flood my mind when I'm alone.

I think about the fact that I've lost two pregnancies and then compare to women who have lost three or even four. I think about the fact that I never got to experience any sort of joy when it comes to pregnancy and motherhood while some people were scorned with the knowledge of what that feels like, only for it to be taken away in a blink of an eye.

It could be so much worse.

After my confession to Harry in the car, he held me for a few minutes, reassuring me that his feelings for me would never change just because of the circumstances we had been put in.

I cried a lot, he cried a lot, and finally, once we had calmed down a little bit, we decided that it was time to head inside and try our best to go on with our day.

All day things had felt off. Not as bad as they had been the last few days, but not good by any means. Shawn had taken the kids to go do something while we were at my appointment, and they remained out of the house for the majority of the day, leaving Harry and I alone.

We spent some time alone doing our own things, me working on some sketches and him writing in his journal. Harry's aware that I've been helping Shawn with some designs, but he hasn't seen anything I've created on my own.

I kind of like it that way.

It's not something that I've ever done before, and I like that it's mine for a minute, especially because it became one of the things that kept me sane over the last two weeks. I almost don't want to let anyone in on my secret.

Harry and I ate dinner together, sharing basic conversation about Ellie starting pre-school this fall and Rome turning one next month. It was obvious that we were shying away from any topics that could lead back to our relationship or the miscarriage and how it's royally fucked us up.

Shawn brought the kids back before bedtime and they were thoroughly worn out by the time Harry and I took them up to bed. Shawn took them to an aquarium and let them run around all afternoon, so Rome was already fast asleep when they walked through the front door.

I took him from Shawn and got him changed into pajamas before rocking him for a few minutes in his nursery. I hadn't really been able to do this since I lost the baby, and something about it mended me in a weird way. Rocking Rome to sleep has always been the thing to calm me down and bring me back to earth when I feel myself getting a little in over my head.

There's just something so pure about my best friend's baby calling me mumma as I watch him fall asleep while I think about how much I miss her.

Once I had set him down in his crib after kissing him goodnight and sneaking out of his room, I started making my way to mine and Harry's bedroom. As soon as I close the door behind me and look up, I'm met with Harry walking out of Ellie's bedroom doing the same.