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“Are you worried?”
What a stupid fucking question.
Her fingers comb through my hair as her eyes dart between mine. “Yes and no.” I tilt my head in question. “It’s a definite shock, but I’m surprisingly not worried about pregnancy. What I am worried about is how we’ll balance our lives once the baby comes. Between the shop and your art, I worry we won’t have the time or energy to do what we love.”
I give her hips a gentle squeeze. “We’ll find a way.”
“How can you sound so sure?”
I laugh without humor. “There isn’t much in life I’m sure of, Shelly. But when it comes to you, to us, I believe anything is possible.”
A weighted sigh leaves her lips before she drops her forehead to rest on mine. For a moment, we just breathe each other in. Absorb this new path life has put us on. Settle into the realization that every day going forward, our lives will be forever changed. Entwined. Connected.
“I should head to work.” She lifts her head and retreats a step. “Elizabeth was already worried when I messaged and said I’d be a little late.”
Although I don’t want her to go, I nod because she is right. This big news, this baby, will change everything we know, but we can’t stop living life. And that includes going to work. “Let me walk you out.”
It has only been a few hours since learning Shelly was pregnant, but it feels as if weeks have passed. Our minds are spinning, but we need to slow them as best we can. Try to focus on the day to day. Talk to those who can help us or tell us what to expect. Follow our current routines until we need to adjust them.
This may be new to us, but it’s not new. With the countless number of people in Shelly’s corner, we will have more support than imaginable. Support and love.
Shelly unlocks her car and slips in behind the steering wheel. She rolls down the window and I lean in to give her a kiss. “Come over after work?”
She nods. “Yeah. May be a little later. I should make up some of my missed time at the shop. Plus, I need more clothes.”
“’Kay.” I press my lips to hers once more. “Drive safe. See you tonight.”
Shelly backs out of the driveway and waves as she drives off. This time I don’t fear whether or not she will return. Don’t crumble to the ground like a piece of my heart abandoned me. Deep in my bones, I know Shelly will always return. To me, to us.
I walk back into the house, wander to the living room and plop down on the couch. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I unlock it and go to the browser tab with the list of local psychologists. One by one, I click the links and read the doctor’s credentials, what their area of focus is, and the frequently asked questions. In my notes app, I jot down the names and contact information of each that sounds like they may be a fit.
Visiting a psychologist is twofold. To face and conquer the demons of my past, and to make sure I don’t pass my darkness on to my child. I accept that the darkness in my veins will never go away. It is part of who I am. But learning how to properly cope when it creeps in is essential. Learning how to not let the darkness win is mandatory.
Part of that darkness stems from my upbringing. The intricate ways my mother twisted my way of thinking. The type of love she taught me that wasn’t love at all. I wasn’t aware of her warped mindset years ago. Didn’t know I was as much her pawn as anyone else.
It should hurt… the realization of who she is and what she has done. But it doesn’t hurt. That part of me, the piece reserved for Karen Templar, is just numb.
Although I accept this, I want to move past the numbness. Not let her take up residence inside me any more than she already has. I want to let her go. Permanently. Not just for my own mental health, but so I can be the best version of myself for my child.
I refuse to let my past haunt my future.
The idea of my child not knowing part of their family hurts. But my family not assuming a role in this child’s life is in the best interest of me, Shelly and our baby. Optimistically, I’d like to think becoming a grandparent may change my mother. That it could flip a switch inside her and she’d become a better person.
But I won’t put my child in harm’s way. Ever. My mother’s poison slithered into my psyche for years. Her tainted words and cold actions deformed a piece of who I am. Skewed how I interpreted connections and life and love. Contributed to a mountain of untold damage. Damage I pray is reversible. Damage I hope to heal, on some level, before our baby is born.
My biggest fear is passing on the toxicity in my blood. The defect in my genetic makeup. Because like it or not, pieces of my mother live inside me. Like it or not, darkness taints my head and heart.
But Shelly… she is the one shining light in my darkness. The light leading me back to a place of love and hope. The light I refuse to let go of or lose.
Because without her light, I fear the darkness will take over. If that happens, I won’t survive.
THREE
SHELLY
Today feelsa week long and it is only noon.
On the way to work, I called Cora and asked if she had plans today. Relief relaxed my bones when she replied with a firmnope. But the second she asked if everything was okay, anxiety rippled through me head to toe. I played it off. Said everything was fine. Then asked her to come to the shop for lunch and to bring Clara.
