Everything I Didn't Say

Twenty-Three

Rosalie

I was pushing Leah away, and I felt terrible about it, but I just couldn't get over the shame I felt for failing to protect our baby. It was my responsibility to keep him safe and deliver him into the world without harm, and I had failed. When Leah found out that we were having a son, she was ecstatic. She had always wanted a son so that they could play football together, and I had let her down.

Even now, I have a hard time recalling the details of my labour and discharge from the hospital; I suspect that I have subconsciously filtered out the memories because they are too painful to recall. After getting home from the hospital, I spent most of my time in Oakley's nursery for the first week or so. It was clear that Leah was beyond thrilled about the approaching arrival of our baby as I sat on a beanbag the weekend before and watched her decorate the nursery.

 As a nurse, I understood the significance of "counting the kicks," as it was known in the UK. Although I was aware that these occurrences were possible, I never, ever, in a million years, anticipated that they would happen to our child. Our little family was thriving, and I couldn't wait for Leah to experience the joy of a new baby, as she had lost out on that with Millie.

Two months after the death of Oakley

Even though time is supposed to be a healer, the numbness I felt persisted. With each passing day, I could feel the distance between Leah and I widening, but I couldn't seem to stop myself from further alienating her. I can't even look at her without feeling ashamed. I saw how hurt she was and felt terrible because I was the one responsible.

We were still able to communicate, but there was no longer any physical or emotional closeness between us, not even in bed where we would cuddle all night long. We were on a downward spiral and I didn't know how to stop it.

 "Rosie, I'm going over to mums to visit and pick up Millie, are you coming?" I'm sitting in the nursing chair where I anticipated cuddling our baby, and Leah is standing in the doorway of the nursery. 

Leah proposed changing the decor and storing the furnishings, but I wouldn't let her. I went there almost every day, as it was the only place where I could get a sense of being close to our child. 

I answer her coldly, unwilling to meet her eyes: "No, it's alright. I'll just wait here. 

"You haven't left the apartment in a week, Rosie" she says, "Come on, get some air; we won't be there long," and though I'm not looking at her, I can see that she's desperate.

"Fine but im not staying any longer than 30 minutes" I turn sharply and push past her through the door, heading towards our bedroom to don my footwear. We quietly leave the flat and enter Leah's car, then travel in silence to Amanda's house.

 I was being unfair by taking my grief out on her, but I couldn't help it. 

What was the matter with me?

Before I can even unfasten my seatbelt when we get at Amanda's, Leah is there at my door, opening it for me as she always does. With a mumbled expression of gratitude, I allow her hand to rest in the small of my back and accompany her up the walkway. After going around the back of the house, we opened the gate to the backyard, where we could hear Millie laughing and shrieking.

 When she spots Leah, she exclaims, "Mummeeeee!" She had turned into such a mummy's girl, and despite my obvious depression, it was the only thing that brought me any joy; nonetheless, I can't help but wonder how she would have nurtured our newborn son.

Millie sprints over to Leah, arms wide spread, and she sprints right back. She snatches her in her arms and spins her around, covering her with kisses as she squeals with delight. She's staring right at me.

 She calls out, "Mamma!!" but all I can do is touch her hair, kiss her cheek, and head over to the table and chairs in the shade. 

I felt like such a bad mother for leaving Millie behind when I was grieving over her brother. 

What was wrong with me?

 I desperately wanted to hold my daughter, the one who made me a mother, but I just couldn't do it. 

When Leah sees me heading towards the table and chairs, she seems to make an even bigger deal over Millie, and I see her rolling her eyes at Amanda, who then shakes her head at her in disapproval.

 As Amanda walks towards where I'm seated, I keep an eye on her. 

"Hello honey, if you have a moment, could you come help me in the kitchen?" 

Ugh, all I wanted was to be able to relax on my own in the comfort of my own home. To be honest, I'd rather not be here, but Amanda has been like a second mother to me ever since I got back together with Leah, and she's been a tremendous help with Millie during the past two months. 

I don't give her a response, I just get up and follow her into the kitchen. As I make my way into the kitchen, Amanda seems to pass right through the kitchen and into the living room, where she proceeds to settle down on the sofa. I don't have the strength to question what she's doing, so I just go along with it. She sits down on the couch and motions for me to join her. She gently grabs my hand and whispers, "Sweetheart, talk to me." 

 I don't know what to say.

 Amanda, I'm sorry I ruined your daughter's life. I'm sorry I couldn't save your grandchild?

The tears are starting to well up in my eyes. I thought I was done crying after the last two months, but evidently not. 

I looked up at her and said, "I don't know what you want me to say Amanda" because that was the honest answer.

"Sweetheart, I know I can never replace your mum, but I love you like you were my own daughter. When we first met, I promised to be there for you no matter what" She wipes my tears away with her free hand and says, "I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through, but talking will help."

I let out the agony and pain I'd been holding in for two months. All I wanted was my mum's reassuring words that everything would be all right. 

But she wasn't here. 

Prior to Oakley's death, Amanda's words had proven to be genuine; she had treated me with such tenderness from the day we met onward. Louisa, Beth, Katie and Jen had all attempted to get me to talk recently, but I was resistant. For some reason, I only felt comfortable opening up to Amanda.

 With that, I told her everything I was feeling, from the guilt I felt every time I looked at Leah to the remorse I felt for not saving Oakley and abandoning Millie. It was relieving to finally let everything out. It was as though a burden had been lifted off my shoulders. 

She pulls me into a hug and whispers, "Oh my darling, you should know more than anyone that there was nothing that you could have done. Some babies are simply too pure for this world, and Oakley was one of them" she continues to embrace me while I cry and tells me, "It's not your fault, sweetheart; Leah knows that. My dear, I know that you and Leah share an unbreakable love that far exceeds all others. Don't let this come between you. It's true that Oakley will always be with you, but please don't lose sight of the fact that there's a precious little girl who's depending on you"

I pause for a moment and dry my eyes. Inexplicably, I felt that the weight I'd been carrying since getting out of the hospital had suddenly lifted, and I could finally make out a glimmer of hope. I express my gratitude to Amanda and give her a hug.

 Unbeknownst to me, Leah had been standing just beyond the door listening to everything that the two of us had discussed; her eyes welled up with tears, and her heart crushed all over again.