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Except, I immediately soak through two extra-absorbent overnight pads in succession. I call Dr. Madison’s emergency line while Jace runs outside to find Zoey and fetch our daughter. Thankfully, Jen and Becca are only five minutes away from home. The second they arrive, Jace and I head to the emergency room.
I’m freaking the fuck out.
For the life of me, I can’t understand it when doctors assure you something is normal when every bone in your body knows it’s not.
All I can do is remain calm. Or try, anyway.
If there’s anything I’ve learned during this shit-show of a health journey?
Control is just an illusion.
Miscarriage.
What weird terminology. I mean, I get it. Alex was technically carrying an embryo that didn’t take. It just seems like such a cold term. Clinical. We didn’t, for a moment, consider she might be pregnant when she started bleeding.
Well, sure. We’re reasonably intelligent adults. There was always a chance when we started having unprotected sex. But seriously? It was miniscule. Alex lost half her reproductive organs. She hadn’t gotten her period back yet.
It took Ty and Zoey months to conceive. For us? A couple of weeks.
Alex and I truly believed we’d fuck with abandon and when she wasn’t able to get pregnant, she’d go on Clomid and we’d end up with octuplets. It was a joke we shared every time she propped her legs up on the pillows at just the right angle to make sure my sperm got to where it needed to be. We even named them hippie-dippie off-the-grid names. River. Stream. Tree. Seashell. Wind. Pebble. Twiggy. And Jeff.
Because isn’t there always a Jeff?
“Okay, babe, I’m going into the city to see Zoey and Fiona.” Alex is twinning with Lena. Both wear white t-shirts, olive cargo pants and denim jackets and, of course, black Frye boots. “I hope you enjoy some time to yourself.”
I kiss them goodbye and head up to the practice space. I’ve been working on building drumming strength back up. It’s a strenuous, athletic gig and with LTZ playing Fiona’s restaurant opening, I’ve got to be on my “A” game.
A couple hours later, after I shower and dress in nondescript clothes, I drive to Jake’s Pickup for an awesome roast beef sandwich on homemade bread. It’s a nice-enough day, so I decide to take it down to the beach and catch up on some calls.
First up is my dad. My folks just returned from an extended visit to Sweden and Norway and I’m grateful he’s back. “Pops, you’re home. How was the trip?”
“Have you not seen all the pictures I posted on Facebook?” He loves to joke with me about a skill set he doesn’t understand. “Aren’t you supposed to be some sort of social media guru?”
I click on FaceTime and soon his face fills my screen. He’s grown out his hair, it’s nearly to his shoulders. “Look at you trying to copy your son’s long hair. Doesn’t Sweden have any barbers? In answer to your question, Facebook is very 2011.”
“Eh? Who has time for that anyway? Yeah, so, I thought I’d throw caution to the wind and forget about haircuts. I like it.” He gives me a cheesy smile and moves the phone in close so I can only see his teeth.
“Don’t tell me, you got a tattoo and a piercing too.”
He laughs. Then his face grows serious. “Enough. How are the two of you holding up? I know you insisted we not cut our trip short, but it was all I could do to stop your mom from booking flights home.”
“We’re doing okay. Alex seems to be taking it in stride after all her body’s been through. Her doctor assured us that we could still keep on trying.” I don’t tell him that Alex missed her period again this month. We’re waiting a couple of weeks for her to take a pregnancy test. From everything her doctor told us, her body’s still healing, so we’re trying to keep our minds clinical and not emotional.
It’s not easy for me. Or her.
Pops scrubs his scruffy chin with his hand. “Look, it’s none of my business, but if the band is picking back up again, is now the best time to be trying for a baby?”
“Well, endometriosis isn’t ever cured. They got most of it, but the chances of it reoccurring are fairly high if she’s not on some hormonal therapy. We want to try now so Lena has a brother or sister close to her age. Then we can decide what protocol is best to keep Alex healthy in the long-run.” The words tumble out of my mouth. Jen and Becca know what’s going on, but we don’t go into this many details with them. Alex and I have great communication skills, but we both believe in privacy. So, I haven’t talked to anyone but her during all of this.
The picture on his phone gets a little blurry as he moves through the house, then he comes back into focus. He’s sitting in the kitchen. My mom is puttering around behind him. “Makes sense.”
“Plus, I don’t think there’s ever a right time.”
“That’s true. So, any movement on the wedding? Your mom invited all of Sweden and Norway over for the big occasion.”
“Nope.”
“Here’s an idea. Maybe tag onto Jen’s. Save a few bucks.” He puts on his glasses and peers back into the screen.
