The emergency room’s doctor’s face changed.
His disposition was soft.
Too soft.
And I knew. I knew from that moment that I felt the pressure in the room.
“I’m sorry…”
“No.” I shook my head immediately. “No, check again…check again, please?—”
“We did Ms. Davis.”
“No!” I cried. “No, you didn’t, he was fine. Xander was fine. I just saw him.” My voice broke into violent and uncontrolled sobs.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am.”
The room blurred through my tears.
I couldn’t see.
Couldn’t think.
Couldn’t accept it.
“There’s no heartbeat.”
The words didn’t settle. They just echoed off the hospital walls, and the only thing I could think to do was talk to X.
“Can I have a pen and paper?”
The doctor obliged and had a nurse get me into a stationary position and raise my bed to a writing position.
Dear X,
I don’t even know how to start this.
I don’t know if I’m supposed to say your name first and begin with pleasantries or say what happened, or tell you the part that’s going to break you before I even get the words out right.
So I’m just going to write.
Because if I don’t, I think all of this is going to sit in me and tear me apart the same way everything else has. There was a life inside me. I don’t even know if that’s the right way to say it.
Because “was” feels too final, and I’m not ready for anything about this to feel finished.
But he was here, X.
My baby was real. He wasn’t something I imagined to make myself feel better after you were gone. Not just something to fill the space you left in me. He was ours.
I saw him. I saw his body on that screen as if he had always been here like he had been waiting on me to finally notice him.
And I heard him. I heard his heart. It was fast, strong, and steady. Like it knew something Ididn’t. I believed it was going to make it here. I used to lie in bed and talk to him.
Telling him I was there. Telling him I had him. Telling him he didn’t have to worry about nothing because I wasn’t going to let anything happen to him.
I said that like it meant something. Like I had that kind of power. Like loving him was enough to keep him here. I named him. His name was Xander.
I don’t even know if you would’ve liked it, but it felt like you. It felt like a strong name. And I thought that maybe this was the one thing that wouldn’t be taken from me.
