She's strong but exhausted

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When the middle of August rolled around it had been a little over a month since I had miscarried. Things between Chris and I were.....strained to say the least. It was my fault. I knew that it was of course. He had tried to comfort me time and time again and I continued to shut him out. And then one day he just stopped trying and the distance between us continued to grow. We hadn't had sex since before the miscarriage. And even kissing had started to become foreign. Some nights we barely uttered 2-3 words to each other.

One breezy summer night I drove to my parents' house after I got off work and joined my dad out in the garage where he was working on the Chevelle. He gave me a grin and a nod as a silent hello and I quietly began helping him work on the car. We didn't need words out in the garage. We had been rebuilding cars together so long I knew exactly what he was thinking. And my dad didn't feel the need to pressure me to talk about the baby. Unlike pretty much everyone else in my life. I knew they all had my best interest at heart, but my heart was broken not just because of the loss of the baby but at the news that I probably would never have kids.

The only sound in the garage was that of the Red Sox game on the dusty radio that sat on the work bench. The breeze got a little cooler as the sun went down. For the first time in a month I felt myself relax. The soothing sound of the baseball game and the cool summer breeze were memories of my childhood. I had spent countless evenings out in the garage with my dad. Sometimes we talked about anything and everything and other times we just enjoyed the sound of the announcer's voices giving us the play by play of the game and passed tools back and forth wordlessly.

"Do you remember your 16th birthday?" My dad's voice broke the silence from where he worked underneath the car.

"Of course." I smiled fondly at the memory. "I got the mustang. Officially."

"Yes, you did. But you also broke up with Matt the day after your birthday."

My smile fell as I recalled the day Matt had broken up with me. "That's right I did."

"And you 2 were broken up for months." My dad continued.

I nodded, "I thought it was the worst possible thing that could ever happen to me." I laughed a little looking back at it now.

"And we sat out here for nights without saying a word. Even though I knew you were hurting." My dad handed me the torque wrench he held in his hand before sliding completely out from underneath the car. He sat up and grabbed a shop rag to wipe his hands off.

I didn't say anything as I looked down at the wrench in my hands.

"I know you're hurting Breelan. I'm watching you become a shell of my daughter. Your husband is watching his wife drift further and further away.  And I know if you wanted to talk about it you would. But as your father, who loves you very, very much,  I'm asking you to please find someone to talk to, whether it be Chris, your mom, me, Kirsten or even a counselor. Just someone who can help you begin to heal."

"I'll think about it." I said quietly.

"What are you so afraid of?" He wanted to know.

"Talking about it makes it more real. And I'm afraid of the pain that will come with opening up about it." I admitted pressing my lips together to hold back the tears that were trying to force their way up.

"But by not talking about it you're holding onto this pain, shutting everyone else out. You're not alone in this. Even though no one knows how you feel as the mother we all love you and are mourning as well. We want to help you heal."

"I don't even know how to talk to Chris anymore." I ran my fingers through my lose pony tail pushing a few loose strands behind my ear.

"Start with hi." My dad gave me a smile.

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