The Person Who Makes My Days Brighter

CHAPTER 2: LIFE CHANGES

I was sitting on the couch in the living room. I usually sit on the one placed in the middle of the other two because it's right in front of the TV set. I let the kids sit here sometimes, in my lap even from time to time—but my wife tries to make them have this borderline respect for me so, when I'm not around, she scolds them a little for doing it.

I have two little boys—the oldest, Ely, and the youngest one we named Noah. Once upon a time, we had decided not to have kids for a while Elise and I, and soon after we agreed not to have kids at all. At the time we were just too busy with our lives, and starting a family, seemed like too much of a task for the both of us to handle.

We were both coming around forty at the time we had Ely, and we were well passed that when Noah was born.

"I don't want to have this baby. Look at me—Virgil look at me!" She screamed.

"You're talking crazy again Elise," I replied.

"All of my friends are done having babies. We discussed this for several years. I CAN'T HAVE THIS CHILD, NOT NOW, not when I can't love it with all of my heart, no child deserves that." And it was all echoing in my ears possibly because all the shouting and screaming was bouncing off the tiles on the floor and on the walls. We were in the bathroom, Elise was throwing up again.

"I'll raise it then, by myself! I'll take a letter up to the boss next week, move my schedule around and I'll make time for my child." I said while holding her hair up for her. I had always wanted kids of my own. It's something I had looked forward too for a long time. Elise on the other hand has never liked children. I don't mean that she was the devil, she was just never good with them and I hoped she'd eventually change her mind. So for the eighteen years leading up to that day, I hoped. The silence in the bathroom however, was broken by the sound of Elise vomiting and spitting into the toilet bowl; but between that and the sound of her sobbing, there nothing more to say.

After that conversation we had in the bathroom it was a lot more quiet around the house. I would walk through to the kitchen, and I would say 'good morning' first then, she would respond—or vice versa. Sometimes, she wouldn't respond at all. We'd talk about what was in the paper and then that was it. Never anything involving, never anything else but small talk. I wouldn't call it fighting, we were just digesting the situation individually, in our own separate ways I guess and that's normal. I would still tell her I loved her before I went to bed and she would say it back—soon after, I'd grab a pillow and some beddings and make due on the couch in the living room. This went on for a while, almost throughout the pregnancy and afterwards.

"It's tearing me apart Boas, I don't know what to do anymore," I said. "She's not herself. Can you believe she's talking about not having them? No—those are my kids, she can't do that to me. Most people spend a life time trying to get what we have. Going to fertility clinics, doing all of those crazy medical procedures; what's that called, where they uh—freeze a female's eggs or something like that..." Boas stood there with me out front on the porch and he just listened to me go on and on about it.

"Don't give it too much thought Virgil, she'll come around eventually." he replied.

And for the next few months, we were rotating between our jobs and prenatal appointments, not to mention shopping for this whole other human being we were about to bring into this world. Elise went away for some time to live with her parents. It wasn't easy, I didn't think it took that much work and honestly, the thought of change was unsettling. There were times when I wished we gave up when we could, but soon all of that would go away. When we were in the delivery room, holding our son in that hospital bed, I bet she took back everything she said while she was on that floor in the bathroom, throwing up, because I know I did—I took back every little bit of regret I had felt over those nine months. Looking down at him, our beautiful boy, it's a feeling you couldn't get used to.

Two years later we had another boy. In that same hospital. It was a much more complicated delivery this time. The doctors came in to the waiting room talking about how I might lose Elise. They told me that they would do everything they could do to save her and that it might be at the expense of the unborn child. I prayed to God, harder than I have probably in my entire life, I made a promise to him that I wouldn't put Elise through that again if he could keep them both alive, and I'm grateful everyday because he did just that.

It really is something giving life, it changes you—I saw that change in Elise and in myself too.

"Goodnight Elise," I said.

She said "Goodnight Virgil."

"I love you," I said.

"I love you too." I walked over from the crib after putting Noah down to sleep, turned the side lamp off and reached for my pillow and began to make my way down to the couch. "Virgil!" she called out, as I was walking down the stairs.

"Yes, Elise?" I replied.

"Why don't you sleep in here tonight, with me," She said.

"Are you sure?" "I'm sure." And she flipped the sheets over and moved Ely a little closer to her chest to make some space for me.

"Goodnight Elise," I said again and I reached for her hand and intertwined our fingers.

"Goodnight Virgil." She said softly, trying not to wake Ely up.

"I love you," I said and she adjusted the grip of her hand, she was squeezing mine tightly now.

"I love you too..."