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CAM POV
"Ow?!"
I grimace in confusion, staring at the deep slice right under the fingers of my left hand. Thorns. It's always the rose thorns—or prickles, whatever you want to call it. Whatever it is has my hand pouring a fresh stream of blood, right back into the Earth. I watch as it drips onto the grass, then sinks beyond the dirt. I focus on it for a moment, intrigued, and then I snap out of it. I take a look at my surroundings for a clue on where that thorn came from, and I see only a single rose laying on the grass beside me. I don't have a rose bush, so I don't know where that came from.
Now slightly creeped out, and very curious, I place my mini shovel at the edge of the planting holes that I'm digging. They're to start up my new, fresh garden for the upcoming spring season. I've only gotten a few in because of my paralyzed arm, but I absolutely refuse any help. Late gardening is my therapy, and it's the perfect time for me to clear my head. Alone. Almost everyday around 7:30, right when the kids are about to go to sleep. I get some time away from everything, and just reflect on how blessed I am with this life. I don't know why I need privacy to reflect on my blessings, but part of me feels like it's because I can't believe that after all we've been through—we've finally made it. Finally made it to peace.
"Anthony," I smile, walking into our home. Our beautiful home. Anthony let me pick. He told me whichever house I wanted, I was gonna get. When the babies were born, I found the perfect home right in Manhattan Beach, Brooklyn. Six bedrooms. Six bathrooms. A large, beautiful yard space, and a backyard space that is so abundant in vines, leaves, flowers, and all kinds of plants. It was perfect, and it was mine—ours.
And speaking of plants, there goes the man of my life sitting on the couch, with rose petals all over his clothes. And though it sounds romantic, the three terrors surrounding him who are ripping the leaves off the stem, then throwing them onto his clothes, make it very obvious that this is everything but romantic. And I still don't know where those roses came from. And Ant doesn't seem to have a clue either.
"Get your kids," He mumbles, shaking his head. It's like perfect timing. At that moment our son Ace hits Ant's arm with the stem, causing the thorn to scrape the skin of his arm, causing a bit of blood to come to the surface. Talk about coincidence.
Anthony grabs the stem from Ace, "Come on, time for bed. All y'all," he says like that was his last straw. I laugh at the look on his face—over it, unimpressed, and tired. I thank God for my husband because he willingly deals with the triplets uncontrollable energy before they go to bed, just so I can catch a break.
"No!" Tamiyah screams.
"No!" Ace copies her.
"Mm!" Takiyah follows, making her own noise that means no. "Mm, Mm, Mm," she repeats, hitting her head against Anthony's chest. I laugh at her, and Anthony can't help himself but to smile a bit.
I grab Takiyah off of Anthony's lap, and hold her in my arms, "Okay Kya, shh, shh, shh," I smile, soothing my almost two year old baby that's extremely upset at her daddy for telling her it's bedtime. I playfully shake my head at Anthony is disappointment.
Because Kya is the way that she is, she jumps out of my arms and runs off to the kitchen, causing Ace and Mya to follow her, all trying to avoid going to bed.
"Same thing every fuckin day," Ant sighs, getting off the couch to go get the kids. I wait a couple of seconds before making my way over there too—really to make him do all the harder work.
By the time I get into the kitchen it doesn't look like he needs my help. But, it doesn't look like he's got everything under control either. It looks like the triplets were able to put Anthony under their spell—the proof being the way that they're sitting on the kitchen counter, each with one of the fresh baked brownies I made earlier, squished in their little hands, with chocolate all over their faces.
"Anthony," I scold seriously. He knows they do not need to be eating brownies right before they go to bed. He must want them to be up all night, especially with Tamiyah's stubbornness.
Ant blatantly ignores me, playfully chewing on Ace's cheek instead as our baby giggles away.
I walk up to them with my hands on my hips. Both my hands. I thank God for the day my arm started moving again. Right before my babies were born, too. I don't know how I would have managed three babies with one arm. Of course I had Anthony, but for the times that he's working or whatever the case is, I was worried that I'd struggle to keep up with three babies at once. But one day, I woke up and my arm was moving perfectly normal. I was so happy.
"No no. No sweets right before bed," I say, looking at our kids who are currently too busy stuffing more brownies into their mouths. First, they all give me this blank stare. Then Kya starts to cry. Then Mya is next. Then Ace finally completes the crying trio, brownies slowly falling out of all of their hands. Oh God, now I'm the bad guy.
"Nah, daddy said you could have it," Anthony interjects, etching them on to eat the brownies by shoving their hands towards their mouths. They waste no time in chewing on the brownies again, while they're still crying.
I give Anthony a look. A look that says 'seriously?' "You're putting them to bed," I say. Now when they get a sugar rush I don't want to hear it.
"You got it all out on the counter. They seen it so how I'mma say no," He says, now caressing Kya's head.
"But how did they get up on the counter. They could only see it if someone picked them up, and placed them on the counter. They're like two feet tall."
Anthony shrugs, "Ion know," he mumbles, now pinching Tamiyah's nose. I wish that I could stand here and continue to pretend to be mad, but I'm not mad even a little bit. These days the only emotion I feel is grateful, so something as simple as my babies enjoying an uncommon late night treat could never throw me off track. A smile sneaks it's way onto my lips. I reach over for the tray of brownies that are almost gone. Tyler came over earlier and ate almost half the brownies. Leah and Aj took two each then disappeared off to their rooms like three hours ago, as usual. I had one earlier, the triplets each had one earlier, and Mr. 'I don't like sweets' refused to eat any.
"Mm," Ant raises his eyebrows when he sees that even I can't resist a brownie at this time of night. Oh well. Everyone is a hypocrite once in a while.
"Did you give Kya her meds yet?" I freeze and ask as I'm mid bite. Anthony shakes his head. It's no big deal, she just has to take it at night before she goes to bed.
As we stand in front of the triplets, patiently waiting for them to finish their brownies, Ant gently wraps an arm around my waist. I mindlessly lean into him, keeping my hand on the counter to spot the kids, just in case. I don't want them to hurt themselves. Whenever they do hurt themselves, I can barely breathe. It's weird, and it sounds exaggerated, but it's true. I can't breathe when my babies get hurt which is why I'm keeping my left hand up on the counter.
"Eat some," I beg Ant, holding the brownie up to his lips. He turns his head away. Rude.
"I'm good baby," he says.
"Come on, one bite." I always try and convince him to finally like sweets. But there's not one dessert that I've made that Anthony will eat, except for when I bake boring cake with reduced sugar. That's what he tolerates. Plain, low sugar cake. Where is the fun in that.
And like I thought, Ant refuses again at first, but Tamiyah's little hand starts to push the brownie in my hand towards him.
"Daddy. Brownie," she says.
"Daddy brownie," Ace says.
"You want daddy to eat the brownie?" I etch on.
"Yes." "Yes, brownie." "Daddy," comes from the triplets simultaneously, and since Takiyah is not verbal yet, she does her little screams that I assume is her joining in on the bicker.
I hold the brownie up to Anthony's lips, waiting for him to take a bite. He glances over at the triplets who are all giggling on the counter, finding joy in this. Anthony finally musters enough courage to take a bite of my brownie for the sake of the babies happiness, and possibly mine. I grin as he chews with an unreadable expression on his face. I know he probably hates it. I shake my head, pulling the brownie away from him until he grabs my arm and shocks me by taking another bite.
I audibly gasp with a big smile on my face, the triplets laughing and squealing in the back, "Shit good baby, ain't gon lie," he mumbles, heading to the fridge, "I need water but it's straight," he grabs a water bottle from the fridge, downing the whole thing when he's done.
"You liked it?!" I question in excitement.
Anthony laughs at me. No, this is a big deal. "Yeah," He says.
"Aww. So for your birthday, do you want a brownie cake?" His birthday is next week, and I've been trying to figure out what I could do for him. He doesn't want to go anywhere, he doesn't want a party. He just claims that for his birthday, he wants to spend the day with me alone. Drop the kids off at Tyler's house and spend time together at home and off work. But, that's so boring.
Ant shakes his head, "I ain't like it that fucking much," he says. My jaw drops and I playfully hit him for two reasons. One because he's so rude. And second because I told him a million times already to stop swearing in front of the kids.
"That fuck much," I hear from the counter. See. Ace picked up on that quick. And he's smiling about it too.
"That fuck much," Tamiyah repeats. "That fuck much."
I sigh deeply, and just stare at Anthony who is staring at the triplets with an observant look on his face. I told him to stop. I did.
"Aight, time for bed," he says. Oh really?
"Mm, time for bed huh?" I frown at him with my arms crossed. The damage has already been done. Sleep won't fix it.
Ant picks up Takiyah and Tamiyah, and I pick up Ace. They're all done with their brownies so there isn't any screaming. Plus, they're all clearly very tired.
We make our way to the bathroom first so that we can bathe them and brush their teeth before bed. Of course bathtime doesn't go by smoothly, because as soon as the water goes off and they're dried, all three of them run off to God knows where. Now I have three kids running all over the place.
"But brownies before bedtime right?" I scold Anthony. He kisses his teeth, knowing that I was right the entire time.
We eventually catch the kids. Takiyah fell and scraped her knee while running away, so while I was cleaning her up and giving her her meds, Ant dealt with Tamiyah and Ace. Soon all three of them are laying down in their beds, still wide awake. They share a big room that has three beds, so I focus on Takiyah again as Ant tries to put Tamiyah to sleep. Ace is a bit more calm, so he's just laying there staring at us.
"Go to sleep baby," Ant says as he rubs Tamiyah's back. It's like a magic spell, because Tamiyah's eyes begin to flutter closed. Ant kisses her face as she grabs onto his ear for comfort. Finally her arm drops from Ants ear, and Ant backs up revealing our sleeping beauty, who looks just like her daddy. I don't know what it is about him, but he always gets the kids to sleep much faster than I do. I think it's because they listen to him more, for obvious reasons.
Ant stands up, going to Ace now.
"I love daddy," Ace says out of the blue. My heart.
"Daddy love you," Ant says back, going to put Ace to sleep, but he starts to whine.
"Papa," Ace reaches out for me, grasping with his little hand. With that, Ant and I switch. He grabs Takiyah from me then I sit next to Ace, rubbing his back for him to sleep. I know he'll be out in two minutes, he loves to sleep. So much so that it's hard to wake him up in the morning.
One Ace's eyes are closed, I kiss him goodnight, and make sure I tuck the blanket in well. I look over and see that Ant is hooking Takiyah up to her CPAP machine to help with her breathing and respiratory issues so that she can get enough oxygen as she sleeps. She's okay during the day, but she has to wear the machine every single night in order for enough oxygen to be getting in her lungs.
It took me a long time to have Takiyah sleep in a room with her siblings. I had her stuck to my side of the bed for months on end. But to help with my anxiety, the doctor suggested that I get a baby camera, put her in her own bed with her CPAP machine, and ease my mind. It's been six months since then, and she loves being in a room with her brother and sister, and everything has been smooth sailing so far. Her breathing is actually getting better. So, I guess that was the right decision to make, as hard as it was.
As soon as Anthony kisses her forehead, she's fast asleep, snoring away. I think Anthony and I have the same problem, because we don't leave without going back to kiss who we missed—me with Kya and Mya, and him with Ace. Then finally, we leave their room, closing the door behind us.
Now it's time for papa and daddy to go unwind from a long day. The triplets are sleeping, Aj and Leah are in their rooms probably already relaxed, so now we're the only ones left that need to.
We go back downstairs for a little while so that Ant can go eat dinner. After his long day at work from tattooing about six different people, he came straight home and took over for me, encouraging me to go to "my lil' flowers and sh*t" as he calls it. The triplets require being chased around all day, so he never got a chance to settle down.
I set a full plate down in front of Ant who hasn't taken his eyes off of me once. "So weird," I joke, caressing his head. He smiles, then finally takes his eyes off of me to eat, immediately complimenting my cooking.
I can never leave my husband alone, so instead of sitting down with him patiently like I probably should be, I get behind him, and interrupt him by pulling his head back and kissing his forehead. My hands trail down his neck, then they rest on his shoulder muscles.
"Thank you baby," Ant says as I massage his shoulders.
"Of course," I sigh with a smile. He deserves it. He deserves whatever he wants, honestly.
Ant turns his around for a kiss, so I kiss him. "I love you," he says, "You so good to me."
My hands travel from his shoulders, then down his chest. I'm purposefully sending a very clear sign. "Because you're even better to me," I say truthfully. We kiss again, and when he turns around to face his plate, I kiss on his jawline. Ant laughs at me, probably knowing why I'm so touchy feely tonight. Listen, as long as he's getting the right signals.
When Anthony is done he goes off to shower, right after he left stinging, yet enticing pain on my backside. I stay downstairs to tidy up the kitchen and living room a little bit. When I'm done, I hesitantly join him in the shower upon his request.
Ever since carrying three babies, my body hasn't been the same. There's only so much snapping back one can do. My post baby body will never allow me to look like how I did when I was a teen, or even early twenties despite me carrying the twins. Those three munchkins really did a number on me. I was scared to look at myself in the mirror a lot of the time, and I was especially scared to have Ant look at my body. I still am sometimes, but I like to think that I'm secure enough in our love to know that Anthony would never leave me, or think I'm ugly, regardless of what my body looks like. And besides, the reward for my body changing is more that enough.
Ant smirks at me as I step in, looking me up and down, making me blush, "Stop,"
He buries his head in the crook of my neck, kissing me there as he grips on the back of my thighs. He always, always, always gets me to lose my track of thought. So much so that it takes us five minutes to get back to actually showering. We're done in about forty five minutes, fifteen of those minutes being spent washing Anthony's hair. It's time for fresh braids. He got a shape up yesterday, so it's unfortunately time as much as I love his messy braids. But fortunately for me, Ant could be bald and would still be the epitome of a perfect man.
When we're dressed in our night attire—me in a big t-shirt and underwear, and Ant shirtless with sweat shorts—I sit on our bedroom chair and Anthony sits on the floor between my legs, with the tv on the sports channel. Already having blow dried his hair, and begin to part and braid his hair into his traditional style.
Anthony is occupying himself by barely glancing up at the TV, paying more attention to the foot massage he's giving me.
I part through the back section of his hair, "Babe." I call. He hums.
"Do you think Ace and Mya are ready for daycare? So they could socialize?" I ask him. It's something that's been on my mind for a while. We have two nannies that go over to Tyler's house to watch the triplets until I go pick them up. She also watches Tyler's baby, and Zaniyah's baby. Those ladies are amazing, but I've been reading up on some articles that say how a good daycare is a good option for developing minds.
Ant doesn't seem to care about any of those articles though, "They not daycare-ing shit," he answers. Well, there goes that. He makes the final decisions.
"Okay," I laugh. They'll socialize in kindergarten then, as long as Ant doesn't advocate for home schooling. Which actually isn't too bad of an idea, especially since Kya will be receiving her services from home.
"They gon come home with bruises and what you expect from me," he explains. I didn't even consider that part. Kids play rough, but Ant is very protective, so if they get hurt over there, he'll make a very big deal out of it. And when Anthony's angry, people have the tendency to over react out of fear so next thing we know, the cops will be called and it'll be a whole big thing. So yeah, maybe it's best for them to stay home.
I nod, "You're right."
Ant goes back to massaging me, and I focus on finishing his hair. I get to the last section of loose hair at 9:55, and by 9:57 it's braided. I carefully oil up his scalp, and then brush down the hair that he lined up. Now he has fresh neat braids, and is looking handsome as ever.
"Done," I tell him. Before getting up, he kisses my leg briefly, then thanks me. "Go look," I continue, staring at his chest as he stands in front of me, shirtless and so breathtakingly handsome.
"Ion need to," he swiftly picks me up from the chair. I wrap my legs around him, clinging onto his neck tightly. He always says he doesn't need to look. And for that, one day I'm going to give him two pigtails with barettes. "You braid mad tight though," he complains. He says the same thing every time. But because they're tight, that's why they last so long, so I don't want to hear it.
"Oh well," I say sarcastically, kissing his lips. And of course, I don't get away with a simple peck. Ant leans forward on his own, catching my lips between his and kisses me long and hard, holding me up by the firm grip on my backside. Soon he throws me on the bed and hovers over me, now kissing on my neck as I smile and laugh.
Ant kisses up my jaw, "You want another baby?" He asks me. I laugh hard.
"Oh my gosh," I grin.
"I could give you one," he mumbles, placing a single kiss on my lips. "Probably gon be four."
"No way," I dismiss. If I had quadruplets, I would never ever have another baby again. That is too much. But, I say that now knowing that I love babies and will always be willing to have more. We have three babies who haven't even turned two yet though. I'm not that irrational.
"Why not?" He asks.
"Why not? Say it really is quadruplets, that means we'd be parents of nine children. That's crazy," I shake my head. "Maybe in another year. The babies aren't even two yet."
Ant shrugs. He lays on the bed, pulling me on top of him, "We could do it," he suggests. Anthony's main priority is not having to use protection, and since babies are the result of that, he's advocating for them. He thinks he's sooo slick.
"In a year," I repeat with a big smile. His agenda aside, I love how much he loves his babies. I love how we can even consider having more because we know we can. We worked hard to get to this place of security, and I'm loving it here.
By the small smile on Ants face, I know that he knows that I caught on to his plan. I laugh when he sighs, and then goes back to kissing me. I close my eyes. It's pretty obvious how tonight is going to end, especially since we have both been plotting this entire night. But, we need to be careful so that we don't end up making any stupid decisions. A stupid decision is how the triplets got here, and though I wouldn't trade them for the world, it's been a long road to get to the point where we are now. Especially with Takiyah, so it's in our best interest to not add anymore of us...for now.
As we're kissing each other, a sound that comes from outside. A voice. We ignore it at first, offering the benefit of the doubt for animals or anything else that might be out there. But, high pitched laughter coming from the yard causes Anthony and I to jump out of the bed, staring at each other in concern.
"Fuck is that?" He mumbles to himself, moving the window curtains. "Baby come look at this," he says. Confused, I go over to him and look out the window. Much to my surprise, there goes our three babies playing outside in the dirt I was working on earlier.
"No way," I gasp. I don't know whether to laugh, be angry, or nervous. It's funny that they escaped out of their beds and somehow made it all the way down the stairs, despite the baby gates all over the house, but it's also very alarming. How did they do that?!
As I'm looking out the window, Anthony is already out of the room and on his way down to get them. I quickly follow behind, and now I'm sure that I'm feeling nervous more than anything. I have no clue how they got down there. From the looks of it, all of the baby gates on the way to the yard are locked before Ant opens them. Is there another route the triplets know about that we don't?
"Yo," Anthony shouts out the back door, getting the attention of the triplets, "How the fuck y'all get down here," Ant says, approaching our babies. I run up to them, first getting ready to grab Takiyah who is known for tripping and hurting herself. And now that I think of it, I don't know how she took herself off of her CPAP machine. This is unreal.
Before I'm able to grab Takiyah, like I predicted she would, she trips. She trips and falls into one of the three planting holes I was digging earlier. They're not deep holes, but I go into panick mode, now running towards her as Ant runs towards our other kids.
There's a thud, and when I look over I see that Tamiyah has fallen into the second planting hole. Oh my gosh. Now we have to get the both of them out. Thank God I didn't finish digging them, or else they would've been deeper and dirtier.
Of course Ace falls into the third planting hole—but I feel like he jumped in on purpose because his sisters are in there too. I glance over at Anthony in defeat, and he stares back at me. "Brownies before bed," I joke. See, I told him no. Now look, our babies are jumping over baby gates and playing in the dirt.
Ant sighs, then at the same time I do, leans over to pick up our babies from the dirt. I put my hands under Takiyah's arms, and he puts his under Tamiyah's arms. We begin to pick them up. When Takiyah doesn't move a muscle, I think I can't pick her up because I don't have a good enough grip, so I adjust my hands. I try and pick her up again, but she's really really grounded in this soil. "Babe, can you try and pick Kya up," I frown.
"Hold on, Mya stuck on something," he mumbles. I look over and see him trying to pick up Tamiyah the same way I was, but she isn't moving either. This is so weird. I run over to Ace to try and get him out the dirt, but he's stuck too. They're all stuck.
Ant goes to Takiyah, now trying to pull her out but I guess he quickly sees that there's a pattern. None of them are coming out easily.
"What you put in it?" Ant asks me about the soil.
"Nothing, just fertilizer. There's nothing else in there. I don't know what's going on," I'm about to start panicking. I feel it.
"So why they not moving baby?" He asks calmly. I shrug, anxiously wiping my face.
"I don't know, I don't—" I sigh, "Mya can you get out of that hole?" I ask her. Maybe she can move herself. "Ace baby, can you get out of the hole?"
All three of our babies are too busy giggling and having the time of their lives to answer us. Ant and I are over here losing our minds and they're just playing. They're so oblivious and innocent.
As I'm reaching out for Kya again to try and get her out of the hole, I notice that she seems lower than she was before. I look down, and see that her feet are no longer the only thing covered by the dirt. Her knees are now covered too. Is she sinking in?! Are they sinking??
I look at my Ace and Mya, and like I feared, they're all knee deep in the soil. "Ant, they're sinking in it!!" I panic. Anthony jumps into action, grabbing onto Ace and Tamiyah's hand, trying his best to pull them out while I try to get Takiyah. The sound of our childrens giggles and squeals should be heartwarming, and relieving, but in this moment I can do nothing but cry.
Now the soil is above their knees. My babies are sinking into the ground. What is going on. Why is this happening.
"Ant!!" I scream "I can't get her out!" I yell, still trying with Takiyah. Using all the strength I have.
"I'm trying," He says. My husband always tries to keep his cool. Keep the peace while I'm losing my head. But even I can hear the fear in his voice. "I'm trying my best. I can't save them," he says.
"What do you mean save them?!" I exclaim, burning holes through his eyes. "Get them out the dirt! Please, please. Call the police. Please!"
"I can't save them baby," he says sorrowfully, still pulling at Ace and Mya. The soil is at their tummies now. And they're still giggling. Still smiling. Not noticing what's going on. "I'm trying my best," Ant repeats again.
"That is not your best! Your best would be if they're out the dirt!" I scream, not acknowledging the fact that Ant's hands are bleeding red. Every vain in his body is visible at the surface from strain. He might be trying his best. But it doesn't count unless my babies are out the dirt.
As I'm staring at Ant expectantly, he looks defeated. "I can't baby," he repeats. I'm now on my knees, kneeling before our babies who are neck deep in the soil, only able to see their beautiful smiling faces. Why. Why is this happening to me. I can't breath.
"Bye bye papa. Bye Bye daddy," Mya says. Her face shines in the dark.
"Bye bye papa. Bye bye daddy," Ace says next. His face begins to shine.
"Da-ddy. Pa-pa," Kya jibbers. Her face shines. I look over at Ant again, tears clouding my vision.
"No!" I scream, grabbing onto Kya's face, but the soil takes her from me. I scramble over to Mya, grabbing onto her face, clasping as tight as I can, but she sinks below the surface as well, with a gummy smile on her face.
"Ace," I cry, only getting a hold of his hair, watching it slip from my fingers. The only thing I'm left with is the image of the empty soil, and the absence of my children. Just like that. Taken from me with no warning. Stolen from me. I'm in shock. I'm sick.
I frantically grab my shovel, and I try to dig, but the soil is solid like cement. I can't get anything through it. They're gone. They're really gone. One minute they're here, the next minute they're stripped away from me.
I look behind me for Anthony. I need him now. I can't even process what just happened, and I feel like I might faint. But, he isn't there. He's nowhere behind me. Nowhere to be found. "Ant?" I question. There's silence. He must have gone back inside. "Ant?!" I scream out. But now I notice something—where is my house? Where am I? Why am I surrounded by nothing but darkness?
"Ant!?!!" I scream again, only getting my own echo in response. Bring me back. Please. Where is Anthony. I need him. I need him to come back. I need my babies to come back.
"Anthony!" I scream again. I'm lost in a void. Who am I anymore? What is my life. Where is the life I earned? The life that's owed to me? The life I always dreamed of. What has this come to. Why is my life being taken away from me.
"ANTHON—"
"Baby"
I gasp, quickly sitting up. Where am I? I look around, noticing the medical equipment and monitor. Oh, yeah.
I'm covered in sweat, feeling the rapid thumping in my chest. I look over to my right, seeing a brown paper bag on the table and Anthony standing next to me. The sight of his face is nearly bringing me to tears after that—I don't even want to call it a dream. I don't want to call it a nightmare either. But, it's relieving to see his face after that experience I just had.
"Eat sum' " he mumbles, pushing the bag closer to me.
"Thanks," I say quietly. I'm still stuck on what I just witnessed. I never want to experience something like that again. Losing my children once is already hard enough—losing them twice is unbearable, hallucination or not.
I found out that my babies were gone two days ago, and I've been hurting since. I look at my belly and I notice that something is missing. It's worse because there's a clear reminder of what was once there—the c-section scar, the stretch marks, the deflated belly that isn't flat, but isn't full either. All of that, but no babies. All of that, but my babies are all gone. All of that, and I have to live with it.
While I've been hurting, I have also been distracted by Ant. Observing him. Engaging with him when I notice that he's stuck in his own head. Basically doing everything I can to make sure he's here with me and not lost someplace else. I feel like I can tell when he's hearing things. And no matter how many times he tells me that he's okay, I make it my responsibility to get him out of that headspace as long as I can.
And now since he's here, and that experience of mine is fresh in my head, I have something that I need to propose. He may not care, but as the father to my kids, and as my husband, I don't feel right not sharing what's on my mind.
"Anthony," I call. He nods at me. "I was thinking of a....funeral. For the babies. Next week. A small one but. I need to put them to rest. The right way," I take my time in saying that to make sure I don't choke up and start crying. But I need this. It hurts, but a proper burial will help me cope. It'll be an effort to close this chapter of my life that I have to leave behind. Leaving this life isn't an option anymore. I have two beautiful children and a husband who need me. As much as I would love to, as easy as death would be, I need to think about my babies, and Ant. Especially my daughter. I can not leave her. I can't do that to her. Especially knowing the way my first attempt hurt her.
"Yeah baby," He nods, keeping his eyes low, "We'll do that," he says. So next week it is. It'll be small. Ant, Tyler, Aj, Leah, Ty, Zaniyah, Milan and I. That's it. Later, I'll make the arrangements.
I nod sadly, then grab the brown bag Anthony gave me. I open it. Ant knows that I haven't had an appetite for obvious reasons, so it makes sense that there's mostly fruit and a small breakfast wrap in the bag.
As I'm nibbling at the apple slices in there, I feel a pressure in my bladder. I would have jumped up and gone to the bathroom on my own, but it's still hard for me to walk. "Ant," I call. I don't get an immediate response. Ants too focused on the floor in front of him. He's in his head. "Babe," I call again, but that doesn't get his attention. I'm not going to scream to get his attention. I'm not going to throw anything at him. I have more than enough patience to call his name calmly until he acknowledges me. "Ant," I say again. He glances up at me with his eyes only.
"Can you help me to the bathroom?" I ask.
Anthony says nothing, but he stands up, gently grabs my arm, and helps me out the bed. He wraps an arm under my arm, slowly walking with me to the bathroom. I groan with each step I take. All of this pain, but no babies.
"I told you lemme bring you there," Ant mumbles. He's been telling me to let him carry me to the bathroom, but I need to be active. I can't be getting carried around everywhere. I'll just get used to it.
That was a joke.
"No..." I pant. We finally reach the bathroom. I'm done in two minutes, wash my hand, then Ant helps me back. I don't know what comes over me, maybe it's the reality of life that I've been experiencing for the past couple days, but I ask Anthony a question that's been on my mind for a while.
I wait until he's sitting down to ask. "What drug are you using?" I ask suddenly, scared as soon as I ask. Part of me hopes this is one of the times where Ant doesn't hear what I'm saying. But, he hears me. Loud and clear.
"Don't," he mumbles. He doesn't want to tell me.
"Tell me."
"Stop."
"Tell me, what is it."
"Weed and some other shit," he says quickly.
"What's the other stuff?" He can't get away with it that quickly.
"Don't do that," Ant is clearly stressing over this sudden question, but I feel like we're at the point where I deserve to know. We can't go backwards from where we are now. We need to be honest with each other, as uncomfortable as it may be. "Come on."
"No you need to tell me," I'm sitting at the edge of the hospital bed, staring right at him. Im not letting up.
Ant's expression stiffens. Now he's mad. But I don't care, I'm not scared of Ant or whoever else is in there. They're not going to get in the way of his well being. God forbid something happens to him. I need to know what he's on.
"Why?" He asks, "So you could cry?"
"I'll cry regardless. I'll cry if you don't tell me."
Anthony sighs. His expression softens. He can't threaten me with my own tears. They're going to fall anyway, "It ain't one other thing," he says. "I use a couple things," he says.
"So tell me. Tell me what it is."
He sighs again. I'm probably not prepared for whatever it is, but I don't think I ever would be. So there's no point in running from reality.
"Fentanyl and ecstasy. And ketamine," he mumbles.
Oh.
Oh okay. Wow. It may be my own ignorance, but just by looking at him, you wouldn't be able to tell. And knowing him, seeing the way he acts, I don't know how he functions if all of that is in his system. I don't know how much he takes. I hope it's not a lot. That can kill him. That's so dangerous. If I didn't feel like proving Ant wrong, I would cry and beg him to stop. But, I know we'll enough to know that that isn't helpful.
"Oh," is all I can say at first. I push my worry aside for a moment, ready for any more confessions if there are any, since we're already here. "Is there anything else important that I should know..." I trail off.
"Nah baby, that's it," he says quickly. Confidently. I'm going to trust him.
I nod. Now that I know what drugs he's on, I can at least feel like I know what's going on with him completely. Borderline personality disorder. Depression. PTSD. Voices in his head. An intruder in his mind. Ecstasy, fentanyl, and ketamine. My husband. Thats everything that he's carrying around. And though I didn't want to get emotional, knowing that he's inhaling such dangerous drugs with the state of mind he's in right now has me going on a rant I know I probably shouldn't be going on.
"If I lose anyone else," I pause, staring into his eyes, "If I lose you Ant, there's nothing anyone can do to stop me from putting myself in a grave right next to you. I swear. I can't take losing you—" as I'm ranting, Ant gets up from the chair, embracing me in a hug instead. I hope I'm not crying. I don't want to cry. These days, I can barely tell if I'm crying or not. "All those drugs will kill you Ant, come on," I sniffle. I'm crying. "Please don't do this to yourself anymore. Don't do this to me. Please."
I'm being irrational. I'm being way too emotional. Ant is busy rubbing my back, but I know my dramatics are probably stressing him out more than he is already. I've been nothing but emotional these days. And I've been doing my best to allow him his space to express his raw emotions, but it's hard to give him that space when he refuses to use it. He hasn't been emotionally open since the night I woke up and found him having a mental breakdown. He's been present, just stand offish.
Once I start on my tangent, it's hard for me to stop, "Let me see them," I say. I know he has them on him.
"See what?" He asks.
"The drugs. Let me see them."
"Nah. Relax."
"No let me see them now," I reach down for his pockets, but my hand is forcefully pushed away.
"Baby stop," he says angrily, "Come on yo. This why I ain't wanna say shit. Look how you acting."
Fine. Whatever, I don't care.
"What you wanna see it for?" He asks. I don't answer him.
"What you gon do when you see it?" He asks. I still don't answer him.
"You ignoring me now?" He asks. Obviously.
Anthony sighs. He grabs his black book bag that he carries around everywhere. I watch his hand from the corner of my eye as it reaches into the bag, then comes back out with an orange pill bottle. It's grasped tightly in his hand, as if he's trying to hide it. I hold my hand out. "Nah," he mumbles, "Just look."
"If you want to quit, you'll give it to me. If you don't, you won't," I blink away any tears threatening to fall.
"I can't do that," He says after a moment of silence. Now I feel bad. He said that with so much hesitance and embarrassment. I know that I'm being too harsh now. It's easy for me to offer that ultimatum because I'm not in his shoes. "I'm gon stop. Just gimme time. Please," he says.
"How much time though? I might lose you waiting for that time to come around." Here I go again. I'm starting to feel like I can't help it. I'm too emotional, and my husband isn't emotional enough.
Anthony looks down between us. He clears his throat. "You might. But you always been living on the verge of losing me. It ain't different."
"Yes it is. You're adding on top of the problems you already have. These drugs are literally eating away at your body. Please. Give them to me," I plead.
I just want them gone. And if they can't be gone, I don't want him to have access to so many. What if one day he decides that he's going to take the whole bottle. What if the person is his mind tells him to take it, and he does. And now he's gone forever. I can't stomach the thought.
Anthony suddenly walks over to the garbage, dumping the pills in there. "That's what I got on me. I won't use em while I'm with you," he decides. No. That can't happen either. I have to stay in tune with reality.
I get out of the bed, and to my best ability, I hurry to the garbage bin before Ant can stop me. As painful as it is, I bend down and reach for the pill bottle, keeping it close to my body so that I don't drop it, and so that Ant can't take it back.
"What you doin?" He asks, grabbing me by the shoulder. I jerk away, backing up into the wall with the pill bottle behind me in my hand. "Stop playin Cam, give it to me."
"No."
"I threw it away though, fuck is you on. Throw that shit out."
"No. Why? You're just gonna get more," I croak.
Ant sighs, his expression stiffening again. "I ain't getting more. You want me to flush it down the toilet or something?" He asks.
"No," I tear up, "I don't—" I take a deep breath in. "I don't want you to have withdrawals so," I scramble with the pill bottle, bringing it from behind my back. I can't even get it open on my own. "Open it," I tell him. He looks confused, but he opens the bottle anyway. I look inside at the thirty or so small pills. I wonder how much he's taken already. I wonder if the bottle was filled to the top.
I pull his hand open, "How many do you take a day?" I ask, still blinking back my tears. Ant can barely look me in the eyes.
"I said I'll throw it—"
"Just—answer the question, okay. How many do you take a day?" I interrupt harshly. I don't want to talk about it right now. I just want to be on the same page with the reality of our lives. That's it.
Ant tells me that he usually uses three a day. So in the palm of his hand, I drop five. He looks at the pills, then looks at me. I assume that he won't be in Brooklyn for long. That's to last him until he leaves me again. I toss the rest of the pills in the garbage. I want to at leas at least know that while he's with me, he is actually trying. He needs to know that someone is holding him accountable to try as well. "You may have more. But, I'm asking you to cut down to using one a day. Okay."
Anthony extends his hand, holding the pills out to me, "I won't use it, throw it out," he says. I know better than to believe that. He knows better than to say that. It is not that easy. He can't be on drugs one day, and then off them the next. It doesn't work like that. I appreciate his optimism, but it's unrealistic. As much as I wish his plans held any weight, they don't.
"Don't bite off more than you can chew," I close his hand, pushing it toward his body. "Give yourself time. Like you said. You were right. You need time. But you need to use that time wisely." I nod.
Anthony sighs shamefully, then he puts the pills in his pocket. He needs them at this point in his life. I can't just take them away, and he can't just throw them away. He will get to that point eventually. I know he will.
I sigh, taking a deep breath as if I've been holding one in for a long time. I would do anything to go back to the old days. By old days, I mean the moment he just came back home. Aj. Leah. Ty. Zaza. Me. Ant, and his blunts. A simple life. It was only simple for a few hours, if even that. I just want that life for us. I want the life I pictured in my dream, minus the ending that already a sad reality.
I want a healthy husband, and a healthy marriage. I want happy kids. I want more kids. I want a traditional life. I want a home to call ours. I want to wake up in the morning and cook breakfast, and pack lunches for my family before going to work. I want to come home and cook dinner for my family, and then tend to my big garden in my free time. I want to scold my kids for eating sweets late into the night, then hug and kiss my husband at the end of the night, waiting patiently for him to smoke and then come back to bed. That's the life I want so bad. A simple life. It seems like that is always too much to ask. There will always be a road block. I think I have to come to terms with that.
Anthony takes me out of my head when he grabs my cold hand. I probably shouldn't be standing up this long in the state of health that I'm in. But, I have bigger things to worry about. I look up at Ant. These days, his eyes look so sad and dark. It makes me want to cry. You can take one look at him and tell that he's hurting. Like there's a lifetime of pain and uncertainty behind his eyes that he's holding back and refusing to let out. Ant cried in my arms two days ago. But through his tears, I still feel like he had his guard up. He was crying, but he was crying with shame. He would not look at me or talk to me. It was like watching a statue cry.
"It'll all fall into place in time," I reach up, caressing his face. This is the closest we've gotten since the night we held each other. There's only been a day between then, but a day without being close to each other while in the same proximity as each other is not normal for us. There was definitely some apprehension from him, and I fell into that with him, especially since I'm grieving. We haven't hugged, kissed, held hands, been close to each other—none of that. So touching his skin again feels better than it probably should.
Anyone would call me a fool if they heard me say that. They would bring up how done I was with Ant over the past month. They would bring up the way he talked to me, and the way he talked about our unborn children. I could be every airhead, every weak person, every stupid and dumb person that there is, as long as I have my Anthony at the end of the day. I can say I'm done with him as many times as I want. I can never truly be done with Ant. No matter where life takes us, there will never be a time that my soul unties itself from his. It's too late for that.
"You will be wonderful. You are an amazing protector. An amazing giver. An amazing lover. You have every quality of an amazing husband and father. You can be that, and you will be that. You need time. But you'll be okay," I say quietly, from the sincerities of my heart. If no one else believes it, I do.
Anthony's eyes close as I'm caressing his face, feeding him the words that he needs to hear, "You're so important to me. I could never, ever live without you. So I need you to do your best to stay with me. And talk to me. And tell me when something might be telling you otherwise. Please," I say. I need to wedge it into his mind that I will always be there for him. I told him this already. But he needs to hear it again. I don't want him to even entertain the idea of me giving up on him.
After a few seconds, Ant slowly opens his eyes, staring right at me. He grabs my chin, then leans in, placing a soft, gentle kiss on my forehead. I sigh in content. That's what I've been missing. Ant lifts my chin up, then places a deep, long kiss on my lips. My hand fall from his face, lingering on his tense shoulders instead.
Anthony breaks the kiss, now wrapping his arms around me, placing his head in the crook of my neck. I wrap my arm around him, hugging him back just as tight and firm, caressing his back gently as I do. His deep inhales and exhales read to me that he's keeping his emotions under control, but he's also on the verge of letting them out.
The hold he has on me gets tighter. It's times like this that I wished both of my arms worked. I want to hug him the way that he's hugging me. "I love you so much Ant," I whisper in his ear to make up for the affection I can't give, hoping that it's as warm as a proper hug.
Ant sighs a deep sigh. He backs away from the crook of my neck, looking at me with sad, red, drowsy eyes. I haven't seen him sleep once since he got here. Even when I'm sleeping, I'd open my eyes and see him staring at the wall ahead of him or staring at me. But not once have I seen him with his eyes closed. He leans forward, finally kissing my lips making my eyes flutter closed. He backs up only a couple of centimeters away, then presses his lips against mine again. I'm completely under his control now, moving my lips to his rhythm. It's slow and intricate. Desperate and sad. Needy, yet resistant.
When we part, it's a mutual decision. Someway, somehow we felt that we needed to take a break from kissing our feelings out, and face each other instead. Not to talk, because I know he isn't ready for that. I don't think I am either. But just so we can acknowledge each other, and look in each other's eyes as we're doing right now.
I smile softly at him, ignoring the tear falling down my face. "You need chapstick," I laugh. Sorry. He really does.
Ant finally breaks a smile, unintentionally licking his lips, "Nah, what you tryna say," he says under his breath, still smiling at me.
"That your lips are dry," I respond playfully. I begin to rub my lips together. Would you look at that. I'm a hypocrite. "Wait, but so are mine," I notice. We could have started a fire. No but seriously, my lips are really dry too. I guess that's what happens when all you're doing is loathing about the misfortunes of your lives.
"Yeah they is but I let you rock," Ant confesses, making me laugh. I appreciate his grace. Sadly, I could not offer the same. What I can offer though is the Vaseline sitting on the bedside table. I coat my finger with the shiny, slippery paste, then smother it all over Ants lips. Then, I peck him a few times, eventually just standing still as he does all the work in kissing me. I pull away slightly.
"Now we both have some," I explain, then kiss him one more time. I feel like that's all I want to do. It makes me feel better inside.
Suddenly, as Ant has a hold of my hand, he begins to rub on it. Then, he holds it up after he specifically rubs on my fingers. "They took your ring off?" He asks. Oh my God. My ring. I forgot I took it off. "Shit was expensive so it's probably gone baby," he elaborates. No. No, I have to tell him the truth. I have to be honest. We have to be honest with each other, and if my truth is that I took the ring off because at that point in time, I was done with him and this marriage, then I have to say that.
I make the mistake of stumbling over my words as I try to explain to Ant that I was the one who took it off. He mistakes my stumbling for confusion, interjecting for me.
"Don't worry bout it. I'mma look for it. But if niggas stole it, I buy you a better one," he says with such confidence and determination, that I no longer have it in me to confess what I did. I look down at his finger and see that he's still wearing his wedding band. He always is. I feel so awful, but I don't want to start crying before Ant asks me what's wrong. It's just that, I feel like I gave up on him. I know I did.
I stare at the ring that's tight around his finger. It looks so painful. But he still has it on. I try to pull at it to see if it will move, and it doesn't. "There's no blood circulation to this finger at all. Does that hurt?"
"Nah. I like it that way," he explains, kissing my forehead. Wow.
When I said that Anthony probably wouldn't be my choice today, I wasn't lying. Anthony to the common eye is difficult, and irresponsible, and mean, and angry. And that's all he would've been to me too if I didn't love him, or know him. I won't pretend he's perfect, because he is far from it. But, that being said, I made a choice at sixteen. And that choice has become what I need, what is rightfully mine. The choice I made is a choice I wouldn't trade for the world. I don't want to know a world without him. I wish I never took off the ring. He never did. I wish I never gave into my feelings of doubt.
"I'm gonna buy you a better one too," I say. I'm making that a mental note. I have to. "Maybe once we...figure this out." 'This' meaning our life, our marriage, our heartbreaks, and everything under the sun. I feel like it's overdue anyways. We never even had a proper ceremony. And, maybe that was on purpose. Maybe our journey is a long one, and we have to continue to be patient for the stability we long for.
After I say that, there's a long silence, then Anthony looks at me apologetically. Like he has something important to say.
"Baby I'm sorry," He says quietly, "For leaving. For being like this. Everything. You worry bout me and I feel like I'm stressin' you. Made you lose them kids. I know I ain't want, but. I couldn't step up. Not right now. But you lost em and it's on me. And I'm sorry for that," He doesn't look away from my eyes. This is the first time he's initiated talking about our babies.
There's nothing that anyone can say or do that will heal my broken heart from the loss of my children. No amount of sorry. No amount of well wishes. Not even accountability. My babies are gone. They're gone forever. I can't bring them back. If sorry's could bring them back, then sorry's would heal me. But, I know Anthony isn't apologizing in an attempt to 'heal me'. He's only giving me what he feels like he owes me. And I'm appreciative of that. So I have to take the apology as is, and move on.
No one but those who have lost a child know the pain of losing a child. Let alone three at seven months. There's no point in sitting everyone down, sitting Ant down, and crying about how much it hurts. And how broken and sad I am. It's pointless, because he and anyone else will never ever ever relate the way that I would need them to. So like I said, I am going to grieve on my own, and move on with everyone else. I have more work to do that affect my family who are right here, in the present.
If I were on my own, things would be very different, and I don't think I have to explain how they would be different—life wouldn't even be an option for me. But, it has to be.
"I know," I finally respond to Ant, embracing him in another hug.
As we hug, I look ahead through the hospital room window. I don't know what comes over me, but I'm suddenly drawn to the window, gently pushing Ant away from me so I can approach it. I look outside, taking in the morning sunshine for a moment until a bird lands on the windowsill.
The bird is a light blue bird, carrying something in its mouth. A stem, with thorns, and pretty red leaves. It's a rose.
Another bird flies to the window. This one is a fiery red, and it is also carrying a rose. My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach. There's no way.
I feel like I'm being paranoid, waiting for a third bird. The two birds aren't moving from the window, now having dropped the roses on the window seal. I'm staring at the birds, and I feel as though they're staring at me. Even Ant tried to get me out the trance, asking what I'm doing, but I was too focused to answer him.
A few more minutes pass, and though the two birds are still sitting on the window seal, I'm convinced that I'm delusional. Looking for signs where there aren't any.
As I turn away to return to my hospital bed, something taps at the window. They are consistent, steady taps. I quickly turn back around. It's not the red bird, or the blue bird tapping at the window. It's a small orange bird, with an injured wing. It drops a third rose like the other birds did, then continues to tap at the window with its beak.
Now I know for sure. Those are my babies. I open up the window to get the roses, and none of them fly away in fear, as birds usually do. They stay on the windowsill for about a minute, then they finally fly away, leaving the roses behind. I quickly grab all three roses, caught in a trance, and overwhelmed by shock. I hold them close to my chest.
My babies came to say bye before they become my beautiful angels. And It may be too much to ask for seven month olds, but I make two silent prayers in my head.
Please protect your big brother and sister where I fall short. In my ignorance, show me where I fall short if I'm ever too selfish to recognize it on my own.
Help bring daddy back to himself. Shield his mind from it's intruders. Bring him back to papa.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
🕊🕊🕊
Thoughts on...
Ant?
Cam?
The dream?
this chapter is a bit of a calm after a storm. i hope you guys enjoyed the intimate moments between ant and cam (both dream and reality).
i'm glad cam is getting his goodbye but it's still really sad :(
i hope you guys enjoyed this mostly drama free chapter. next chapter will have a lot of drama, but not the sad kind. the fun kind.
hint: trouble in paradise.🫣
okay bye ily see u *soon* 💓💓💓💓