At the moment I had miscarried time itself turned into two paths. The timeline I was supposed to take went one way and I went the other, ridiculous direction, the road down which I wouldn't have a baby in November. I'm NOT supposed to be here. Two roads diverged, and I took the one less traveled just because the other one had a ROAD CLOSED sign in front of it. I continue farther and farther down this road and the farther I go the angrier I get. But, of course, there is no way back.
What did I do to cause this: I ran after a suspect last week, I drank a Coke, I had a sip of coffee, two sips of wine, I had too many cookie, didn't eat enough fruits and vegetables, forgot to take my prenatal vitamins a few times, I hate omega 3 so I didn't take it, I took some Tylenol when I was sick. I wasn't sure I wanted another child…. "Ahaha of course I did!"
Yesterday I spent most of the day murdering daylilies that had propagated all over the yard, spreading all the way from the neighbor's property into ours. I hacked away at their extensive root system and pulled up lily after lily. I was sweaty and tired, a vague worry crept over me, but I really wanted those lilies gone, so I kept digging and pulling. I was in a bad mood so I was enjoying pulling and hacking at the weeds. A deep, pulling pain kept spreading across my abdomen. The baby had already been dead for a week.
I like to think about Christine and how Booth and I are both healthy and can try again. I'm happy that it didn't happen later in the pregnancy, that I didn't get more attached. I'm happy that Christine didn't know about the pregnancy I couldn't bear to disappoint her too. I know there are a lot of reasons for me to be happy but I just can't do it.
I had miscarried a full week before I found out. The life inside me had ended and I didn't even know it. It took a while for me to realize something was wrong. It's kind of like being on the phone and the call gets cut off but you are still gabbing away like an idiot. It's the sort of thing you should notice; something dead inside you. Your body should let you in on these things. Actually now that I think about it I had started to feel a little different; less nauseated, less headachy. I had felt the same way during my first pregnancy around the same time. I had panicked then but now all I felt was relief that I was entering the easy part of pregnancy. I had no suspicions, just pain as I attempted to garden, and then the most insignificant spotting you could ever imagine.
When I was pregnant with Christine, at the beginning of the week, I would always announce to Booth what part of her I would be forming that week. So when the ultrasound showed the baby just lying there at the bottom of my uterus, I thought, I forgot to keep his heart beating. I never understood before why women who've miscarried find the sight of pregnant women so upsetting, but now, I get it. It not that I begrudge them their happy pregnancies. Who knows how many losses they've been through? Who knows what it took for them to get there? I really dislike feeling like that. I think it is because that's where U should be but it was all taken away in an instance. Thoughts raced through my mind all night I must've slept about an hour.
The next morning was just like any other. Booth made breakfast, I got Christine ready and we sat down all together. I could still see the disappointment on Booths face I hated it. I didn't want to see him like this but I really don't understand this situation…. I mean what am I supposed to do?
I placed my dishes in the sink and headed for the door. Booth turned to look at me and just stared…..
"Ill drop off Christine," he said.
"Okay, are you sure? I mean I always do it." I said as he nodded and turned back to his breakfast. The rest of the day was pretty much the same. Awkward one word answers and minimal eye contact. I had no one to talk to. I mean of course Angela was there but Booth wouldn't like that I went to her first and they just started talking to each other. I really need to confront the situation.
Later that night after Christine had gone to bed Booth and I finally talked. It was the most difficult conversation I have ever had. I couldn't get one sentence without crying. Booth was different that I thought he would be. He just held me and said it was okay that it wasn't my fault; these things happen. I honestly expected him to be angry and blame me; I know I did, but it was the complete opposite. Just like it always has. He was so comforting and reassuring. I didn't want him to let go. I hadn't really cried about it since that time at the doctor's office but as soon as I felt Booths chest pressed against my face I couldn't control it anymore. I cried for hours; Booth held me the whole time until I fell asleep.
It took me a while to get over the whole thing. Cam made me take it easy for a few weeks so as much as I didn't enjoy it, I stayed in the lab identifying historical remains. It was either that or go out with Booth and lose my job. Two months after I miscarried Angela and I went out for lunch and our waitress was pregnant- as pregnant as I would have been- I didn't want to look at her, but I couldn't look away. She had just entered that noticeably pregnant stage, a couple of weeks after you look like you've simply let yourself go and a month or two before the waddle. She looked so happy in her pregnancy. My heart began to race and my insides shredded themselves into confetti, "when are you do?" asked Angela, and the woman said, "November." She smiled at Angela, and her cheeks flushed. I got up, "I just remember something that I had to do back at the lab!" I managed to say, "But Brennan," I ran out to the street to hyperventilate for a while. But then I was okay. More or less. What was happening? I was supposed to be over this, to be able to live with it, but those constant reminders were just not letting me be.