Chapter 80: Answers

November 4

Amelia arrived home and changed into a pair of jeans and a sweater. Still numb, she requested to be alone in the bedroom until the big kids arrived a few hours later. Yearning to fix the situation in whatever way possible, Owen offered to bring her some lunch. After delivering the tray, he kissed the top of her head and whispered, "I love you, Amelia." The most she could muster in response was a very quiet, "Same here." Owen placed his hand gently on her shoulder before stepping away and closing the bedroom door on his way out.

She walked to the bathroom and opened the third drawer, looking again at the plus sign on the pregnancy test. Throwing it through the bathroom door and across the bedroom, her quick burst of anger shattered the dam that was holding back a flood of tears. Falling onto the bed, she screamed and sobbed into a pillow. She kicked her legs and pounded her fists as she experienced a myriad of emotions – shock, devastation, sadness, anger, fear, grief, trepidation, and even a tiny glimpse of joy. She was happy that she would soon have another baby. It was the possibility of troubling diagnoses, losing the baby, or discovering multiples along the way that terrified her. The feelings surrounding the possibility of Owen's deployment and the risk of injury or tragedy were beyond words. Amelia knew she could keep Owen safely at home if she told him she was pregnant, but a part of her hesitated to allow the pregnancy to be a consideration in the decision making. Even though she had not become pregnant as a way to keep him nearby, the idea of sharing the news at this point in time almost seemed manipulative.

As she vacillated between being too numb to cry and being too sad to not cry, Amelia surrendered to her feelings and allowed them to ebb and flow. With such an ample assortment of emotions, Amelia sensed that now was not the time to attempt to reason them out or begin intellectually processing the situation. Rather than feebly attempt to control her state of mind, she chose to lean into the depths of her pain, confusion, fear, and shock. At one point, as she stopped sobbing to catch her breath and drink some water, she reached for her phone. She sent a text to Addison asking if she had time to talk, then she set an alarm for 20 minutes before the big kids would arrive so she had time to gather herself together before they saw her.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Owen seemed to be establishing is own coping process. With his hands clasped behind his neck, he paced around the kitchen, dining room and great room. Occasionally, he would pause and lose himself as he stared through the windows at the view. When standing became too tiring, he would flop onto the couch and attempt to find a comfortable position. After unsuccessfully twisting and shifting around without discovering the right spot, he'd repeat the process all over again.

As Owen repeated his process, he recalled Cristina's insights. Identity? His self-understanding was so integrated; he simply couldn't segment his many roles to family, country, and career into a priority list. Options? He was eager to propose possible arrangements with both Amelia and the Pentagon. Cristina had a great point – none of the invitations had to be fulfilled exactly as offered. Owen wandered out to the porch hoping to stretch out in a lounge chair. When the dogs saw him, they were eager to play fetch. After petting both dogs and playfully pushing down on Simba's snout, the idea of walking around the acreage with his canines resonated deeply. Going on walk with dogs – you ok if babies wake up? He texted to Amelia. Her response came promptly, sure.

Amy, what's up? Text or talk? I'm available, Addison's text appeared after Amelia responded to Owen. Amelia called Addison immediately.

"Dr. Montgomery," Addison answered without looking at her caller id.

Amelia sniffled softly and croaked out, "Addie, it's me."

"Amelia…What's wrong?" Addison asked with concern, hearing the sadness in Amelia's voice.

"I don't know where to start," Amelia explained. "Long story short, just a couple little things," Amelia continued attempting to make light of her heavy realities, "Owen received a call from the Pentagon – they want him to head a medic unit in a war zone, and I'm pregnant and nobody else knows."

Addison closed her eyes slowly, stating with calm reassurance, "I want to do whatever I can. How can I help?"

"I don't know," Amelia admitted as her tears began to flow yet again. "Addie, I'm worried about carrying another baby or babies…I don't want the next year of my life to be full of fear, angst and bedrest."

"I know," Addison affirmed without further comment, letting silence follow her short statement.

Amelia sobbed and offered barely understandable words, "He can't leave, Addie. I don't want to be a widow. What if my kids lose their father? Addie… I can't, I just...I just can't support him on this and that kills me."

"Keep talking, sweetie. I'm listening," Addison encouraged, knowing Amelia simply needed to vent and be heard more than anything else.

"I don't know what to do. I can't lose him – I can't lose him emotionally by insisting he stay, and I can't lose him physically by watching him go. What if he doesn't come back, Addie? What if something happens to him? If he comes back but he's not… not my Owen? And how can I face this pregnancy without him? What if it's a big mess full of complications?" Amelia rambled.

"Amy…" Addison quietly attempted to interrupt as Amelia continued reciting worst case scenarios. "Amelia…" Addison interrupted gently again a few minutes later as Amelia sobbed and shared ever-worsening possible outcomes. Addison allowed Amelia to pour out all her fears and shock for quite some time. As Amelia struggled to catch her breath, Addison stated more firmly, "Amelia."

"Yeah?" Amelia responded between breaths and sniffles.

"Sweetie, I love you and I'm going to be a little insistent. Slow down. Stop. Breathe. Do you have some water nearby?"

"Yeah," Amelia said.

"Drink it," Addison stated with the tone she would use when her patients were in labor and needed to heed her instructions. Amelia drank as instructed.

"I'm going to ask you a strange question, Amelia," Addison explained. "What part of the brain are you responding from right now?"

Amelia laughed softly, "You got me…I get it. Cerebellum…fight, flight, or freeze."

"Understandable given all the news, right? But, sweetie, your frontal lobe needs an opportunity to process the complexity. Stop trying to do that with the cerebellum," Addison advised. "Either stay in the cerebellum and let yourself fall apart without any what if questions or complex analysis or regroup and work your way up to the frontal lobe. Either is fine but trying both simultaneously will tear you apart."

"How many friends would give another friend advice like that?" Amelia chuckled.

"How many people are perinatal specialists who are advising neurosurgeons?" Addison responded dryly. "Now what's your next step? The timeline? Where do you go from here?"

"As soon as the kids come home from school, Owen and I have the rest of the day and night together. He needs to respond to the Pentagon by 1pm tomorrow," Amelia shared.

"Damn. That's quite a turnaround time. What's the hurry?" Addie inquired.

"It's the Army. I think they're used to giving orders and having them followed immediately," Amelia quipped.

"Can I shift our focus just a little?" Addison asked. Amelia consented and Addison continued, "Sweetie, you need to get in to see Annalisa as soon as possible. Let's make sure we're far more cautious than necessary from the get go. Are you telling Owen the news today?"

Amelia admitted that she was not planning to share the news with Owen immediately. She and Addison spoke in an increasingly heated manner as they argued about the wisdom (or lack thereof) in Amelia's plan. Their conversation ended abruptly with Amelia insisting that the pregnancy was her story to tell and she would handle it as she saw fit. Fortunately, Amelia and Addison's sisterhood could handle the tension and disagreement. Only a few days would pass before they were speaking with one another again.

3:45pm

After greeting the big kids and hearing briefly about their days at school, Amelia and Owen headed out in her car with Owen driving. He approached the gate and paused with a soft chuckle, "Ummmm…where are we going?"

Laughing, both at the situation and as a release of tension, Amelia answered, "Great question… I suppose I could text my brother and tell him we're using the trailer. He'll harass us about having what he'll assume is a sex day, but at least we'll have privacy."

Grinning, Owen nodded slowly and agreed. Amelia sent the text and received the predictable permission and harassment. Their drive to the ferry was silent, but without any sense of rage. The mood was a combination of tension, vulnerability, trepidation, and tender love. As they prepared to drive onto the ferry, Owen slowly reached his hand toward hers and grasped her pinky and ring finger in his fingers. He stroked her wedding and engagement rings with his pinky. Amelia looked down and gazed at his grip.

Once the car was parked, Amelia mentioned softly as she put her coat on, "I think I'm going to go up on deck."

"You… you want me to join you? Can I join you?" Owen asked plaintively.

Amelia grinned slightly at him and explained, "You can, but I don't want to talk. I just want to stare out at the water."

"I'd like to come," he wistfully admitted, afraid she would withdraw her agreement.

She nodded her head outward, stepped out of the car and held her hand out in his general direction. He walked over and grasped it, leading her up the stairway that had once been their playful stage.

The air was crisp and cool, but the shining sun helped balance out the breeze. Amelia rested her arms on the rail of the ferry as Owen put his arm around her. They stood that way, silently, for 20 minutes before Amelia disclosed quietly, "I don't ever want to lose you." She spoke the words into the air, her gaze fixed on the water. Closing his eyes gently and leaving his lids lowered, Owen squeezed Amelia a little closer to his body. Unconsciously, he moaned aloud slightly.

Once at the trailer, they each carried in a bag of snacks and drinks. Out of habit and as if their stay would last more than a day, Owen put the snacks away in the cabinets where he used to store food. Amelia put the sodas, water, and juice in the refrigerator. Owen finished and proceeded toward the bed, guessing that would be the most comfortable space to talk in the trailer; simultaneously, Amelia finished and headed toward the fold out sofa. Their different directions caused a crashing impact as their bodies slammed right into the other.

"Oh my," Amelia exclaimed as Owen gasped and apologized, "Excuse me." They looked in each other's eyes and smiled, embracing one another in a gentle hug.

"I guess we just acted out where we're at, huh?" Amelia offered softly.

"Going different directions?" Owen wondered aloud.

Amelia grimaced, "I guess I'd say maybe we're leaning different ways but unable to proceed without bumping into the connection we share."

"Ah," he reflected as he attempted to soak in Amelia's insights. "Well, which direction shall we head so we can stop bumping into each other? Your call."

"The bed's fine. More comfortable," Amelia muttered as she turned and headed to the bed. She sat down and stretched out her legs as she leaned against the walls of the Airstream. Owen slowly walked in behind her and stretched out on his back on the other side of the bed.

"So…" Owen sputtered as he stared at the ceiling.

"Yeah… I feel like we need an outline or a checklist or something," Amelia chuckled.

"What would you put on the list?" Owen inquired, hoping to get the conversation underway.

Amelia sighed, "I already named some of that yesterday. I haven't heard your list yet."

"Arrrggghh," Owen growled both playfully and hesitantly. Amelia resisted a response. Owen resumed, "Since I enlisted, I've never turned away an assignment or questioned a post. I've been unquestioningly dedicated to the Army and being out in the field is beyond description. Since before we married, you've been the center of my existence, of my universe. Amelia, my love for you is greater than anything… anything in the world. And our children?" Owen's voice cracked as he continued, "They are… my love for them… what's the line in that book Olivia loves so much?"

"I love you to the moon and back," Amelia uttered softly.

"Even that is an understatement," Owen responded. "So here I find myself: husband, father, soldier… I've found a way to incorporate being a surgeon into all of those roles. I can't seem to make sense of how I can be both a soldier and a husband and father even though I know many men do it every day."

Deliberately staying calm, Amelia responded, "Owen, I need to know that you will stay and hear me out. I have a lot to say. I will try to remain steady, but I cannot promise I will be able to do so."

"I'm here, Amelia. I'm not leaving," Owen confirmed, still staring at the ceiling.

"Yesterday, I shared that I can view this as your colleague, wife, and co-parent. Before I even consider asking the many questions the wife in me has, I need to be honest about the feelings I have as a mother," Amelia began. She paused to take in a series of deep breaths. "Owen, our children need you. They need their dad to play with them, to love on them, to guide them. The boys need you watching their soccer games and helping them with homework. Bronwyn needs you at her dance recitals. Gwenie needs you to help her learn to walk and to celebrate each step with her. Ella? Like any other kid, she needs her daddy to read to her and laugh with her, to hold her in his strong arms and to provide her with a sense of safety as she prepares to face the world."

"You are a father. I'm not sure I will ever understand how you could even begin to entertain the concept of serving in a warzone. I really don't care if other men and women do it every day, I'm talking about you, about us, about our family. I truly want to be a supportive spouse but leaving our children and risking your life is something I cannot grasp," Amelia paused and rested her head along the wall of the trailer as she gazed at the ceiling. "That's the biggest dimension in this whole equation. As someone who grew up without a father, I absolutely do not want to see history repeat itself in the next generation. By taking the risk of that happening, I find myself resenting you."

Without responding, Owen urged, "What are your other concerns?"

"Where would you be? How close to gunfire and danger would you be? How long would you be gone? Are you seriously considering this DC offer at the Pentagon?" Amelia fired with her questions streaming one after the other.

"That's not all, though, is it?" he asked knowingly.

"What do you mean?" Amelia retorted with a perplexed expression.

Owen pursed his lips and looked at Amelia even though she continued to face the ceiling. "It's understandable if one of your questions is 'How could you leave me here knowing you might not return?'"

"I'm not ready to go there, yet," Amelia responded without emotion as her lip quivered.

"How about we start with the facts and the easier answers?" Owen suggested. "The deployment would be for 3-6 months and I'd leave November 15. I'm not supposed to disclose this, but the post is in Kuwait. That is completely classified information that cannot leave this space. At times, the battles might be close by although attempts are consistently made to have the medical unit in a place of safety while as close to the battles as possible. It doesn't always work out that way. That's why every doctor, nurse, and medic carries a weapon. I've had multiple tours and come home each time. That said, there was the one tour when my entire unit was killed, and I alone survived. I can't promise you I'll be safe every moment. As far as the Pentagon position goes, I don't want to move, and I've been guessing you don't either. I was considering the possibility of offering to consult or to work from Seattle. I would be comfortable turning down the job if those options don't pan out. That said, if you were open and wanting to move, I would consider it."

"I don't want to move. Our home is here," Amelia interjected sadly. "If you go, you'll miss everyone's birthday. You'll miss Gwen's first steps."

"Yes, I would," Owen admitted. "And, truly, I'd miss you. I can't imagine living without you by my side."

"But you can't say no to the assignment, can you?" Amelia guessed with a hollow tone.

Owen stretched his hand out, able to reach Amelia's knee. He placed his hand there and rubbed her knee as he acknowledged, "You're right. I can't say no this time."

Flatly, Amelia uttered, "The risks won't deter you. Our oldest children's loss of two parents already won't stop you. Your babies, one of whom is disabled, can't compel you to stay. I'm not sure what more there is to say, Owen. The truth is that you're going. Arguing or reasoning won't change that. We might as well figure out a plan." Amelia's voice cracked as she spoke. Her face had turned pale and her eyes had become distant. She slid down onto the bed and positioned herself on her side, facing away from Owen. "I … I will find a way to live with this reality," she declared numbly. "Before I do, I need a nap. You can stay in here and nap too, you can come leave and come back later, do whatever works for you. Right now, I need to sleep."

Tentatively, Owen leaned over to kiss Amelia's cheek. She raised her right arm and sadly urged, "Please, Owen. Just let me be. Please don't touch me." Her words stabbed into the depths of his chest as he withdrew his arm that had almost touched her. For 15 minutes, he lay still on his back on his side of the bed. He was more anxious than tired and found himself unable to sleep. He replayed scenes in his head that he and Amelia had shared in this same space. He saw scenes of happier times that were full of laughter and playfulness. He recalled the first time he woke up next to her and the first time they made love.

Knowing he was unable to be still, Owen quietly stood up and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He sat out on the deck, allowing his mind to wander. Simultaneously reluctant and eager, Owen grasped his phone and called Lt. Gen. Rollins to say yes to the deployment and to discuss options related to the post at the Pentagon.