Healing is a slow process. A process in which all energy is placed in working on moving on after an event that changes everything in life. In my life, I lost a baby and almost lost my husband and friends.
Healing takes time.
Over the last year, Derek and I have built our house and gotten used to life at the hospital after the shooting. We've spoken of my miscarriage and most times when it's spoken of, I end up in tears. The tears still surprise me. I had never realized how much I did want to have that baby.
Healing is also slow.
I sit and watch the sun as it sets, turning the sky a vibrant shade of orange. The air is cool and dry as I sit on the porch swing outside.
"Meredith, what are you doing out here?"
I look up to see Derek standing beside me. I hadn't heard him come outside.
"Sitting, watching the sun set." Derek sits down next to me, causing the swing to sway slightly.
"Peaceful, isn't it?" he says. I nod in agreement and Derek and I sit quietly, watching the sky as the colors change from shades of orange to shades of red.
"I can't help but think," I start, "of what life would be like if the shooting had never taken place."
Derek places his arm around my shoulders, silently urging me to continue. We rarely speak of life in 'what if' terms, but I realize I need to in order to move on, to continue healing.
"We would be parents. You wouldn't be recovering from a gunshot wound and life would be nice. For once, we would get to be the happy people."
"We're getting there, we're healing," Derek says. "We have our house, our land, our lives. That's happiness."
I turn to look at Derek and smile. He's always looking on the bright side.
"I try and imagine it sometimes," I say. We both know what I imagine. The empty room down the hall from our bedroom being filled with a crib and baby toys instead of being vacant.
"I do too," Derek responds and I lay my head on his shoulder.
We continue to sit and watch the sky as the former reds turn to purples. Derek rubs lazy circles on my back and I quietly admit what has been on mind over the last year.
"If it was a boy, I wanted him to look just like you," I whisper, "with your hair and your eyes. I had a clear picture in my mind."
"If it was a she, I would have wanted her to be just like you," Derek admits. I laugh lightly and turn to look up at him.
"She would have had split ends," I tell him.
"There's nothing wrong with that," Derek says. "She would have been perfect anyway."
"She would have."
"He would have too."
I raise my head off Derek's shoulder and sigh heavily.
"I really want to try now, Derek, to have a baby, to get to be parents."
"Meredith, are you sure? We don't have to-"
I place my hands on the sides of his face, successfully interrupting him.
"Derek. I'm sure." My tone is steady, almost forceful. For once, I'm not crying. I'm not afraid nor am I hesitant. "I want this, you want this, why wait any longer?"
Derek stares at me and I shift slightly at the intensity of his gaze.
"I love you, Meredith," he tells me. In response, I kiss him tenderly. As I pull away, Derek pulls me back, kissing me more passionately than tenderly.
"And I love you, Derek."
The sky is now dark and Derek stands up, reaching down towards me.
"How about we start trying now?" he says. I grin and accept his hand.
"Sounds like a plan."
Healing has never felt so good.