Chapter Twenty-Three
"Bye Robbie, bye Ella! Have a good day!"
Robyn skipped away happily to join Alice and Ella in their car. Robyn was a GREAT big sister but even she was getting sick of all of the crying. They were swinging by the Harris's to get Pixie and have a 'girlie' day out. Alice's idea, something about needing a day away from men.
Willow would have to rebuff any gender stereotypes later. They needed the space today.
Ira and Michelle had already brought JJ to his basketball game and the babies were sleeping off a milk coma. She passed by them sleeping together in their crib and smiled at Emily's dreamy face. Her cries had been less high pitched since she was able to feed from Tara instead of the bottle and even though it was the same milk, Willow swore she was sleeping just a little bit more deeply afterward. And with that adorable milk-drunk face.
She hovered for a moment watching them. These moments — or the ones where Robyn's tongue would poke between her teeth as she laughed at something or when JJ would spin around in a victory dance and cheer when he taught Woofy a new trick — were the moments of joy Willow hung onto between the ever-present lingering fear for her wife's mental state.
She noticed now, when Tara would sneak off to cry and wondered how long she hadn't noticed before.
She wondered if she should go down to her and comfort her or leave her alone.
She wondered how she didn't seem to remember a damn thing about the four years of study she put into dealing with situations like this.
Or why she hadn't changed her major, to begin with when she didn't need to suck-up to her mother anymore but that was an old regret weaving itself into the new ones.
She checked her watch and leaned down for a moment to inhale from the babies' heads. Another moment to get her through. When she'd had her fill, she continued into hers and Tara's bedroom.
Tara was sitting on the end, staring downward.
She was doing that a lot lately too, Willow noticed.
Mostly at the twins, but sometimes at nothing at all.
"Tara?" Willow called softly to ease her out of whatever trance she was in.
Tara slowly blinked and looked up. Willow walked further into the room.
"Our parents are coming over to watch the twins once JJ goes off with the team after the game…" she trailed off and bit her lip before continuing gently, "You're gonna have to get dressed, honey. We have to leave soon."
Tara looked down at her pajamas stained with various baby fluids — it didn't matter how dark a place your mind was in, your babies still needed to be taken care of.
She looked back up at Willow, pale and twitchy.
"I-I was thinking, m-maybe I should delay the appointment."
Willow frowned.
"Why would you delay it?" she asked, sidling over to sit beside Tara, "I had to use my best Resolve Voice on the nice insurance agent on the phone to get you in so quick."
Tara looked down again.
"I can't leave the babies."
Willow closed her eyes. How did you appeal to the irrational when it was very rational and real to the other person?
"They won't be on their own," she tried to reassure as optimistically as she could, "My dad dotes on them and so does Michelle. Says they'd be happy to babysit any time, even overnight."
Tara shook her head.
"But they don't know them very well. Their habits."
"Good opportunity to learn," Willow pressed.
Willow suddenly felt the tension from where Tara's hands were curled under the mattress and pressing in harder and harder.
"They don't know their cries and they don't know their schedule and what if Emily's alarm goes off? They didn't do the CPR class and—"
Willow quickly kneeled in front of Tara and looked up at her.
"Okay, everything's okay," she soothed and tried to guide Tara into a long breath, "What if I stay with them and we'll ask Dad to drop you off instead?"
From her vantage point, Willow could see the deep creases form around Tara's eyes.
"Do they know where I'm going?"
"No," Willow replied softly, "But you have nothing to be ashamed of."
"So you keep saying," Tara replied in an echo of a whisper.
"It's true, Tara," Willow said, trying not to let her own emotion out in her voice, "And if this were you talking to me in the same position, I know you'd be saying the same."
Tara's shoulders remained hunched.
"I don't want him to know."
Willow opened her mouth.
"What about—"
"No," Tara cut her off before she could even finish.
Willow nodded once. She'd just have to figure out another way.
"Okay, we'll bring them with us," she said easily and held a hand up before Tara could object, "They won't be outside or touching other people. They won't get sick. And they can't even read yet so they'll have no idea where we are."
Willow thought maybe, perhaps Tara smiled an inch.
"Okay?" she asked gently and got a quick little nod in return, "Okay."
Tara flicked a finger against the corner of her eye.
"Where are they?"
"In their crib," Willow answered.
Tara winced and then frowned.
"I don't like them in there."
"In the nursery?" Willow asked with a confused frown, "Their room?"
Tara bristled. While she was very grateful for the help and having a room to bring the twins home to, it wasn't how she'd planned it to look.
She thought they had more time.
It was a 12x12 foot reminder of her failure.
"I-I better get dressed."
Willow nodded and stood.
"I'll call Dad and tell him he can go out with the team if he wants. He loves it."
She turned on her heel and headed back downstairs to pick up her phone and called her Dad to tell him the change of plans. When she hung up, she went into the kitchen to pour a fresh cup of coffee for herself. Holding it between both hands, she leaned back against the counter and just closed her eyes for a moment.
Another moment. She had to hang onto these moments.
She opened them again when she felt a slight pressure on her foot. She looked down and spotted Woofy staring back up at her, sitting at her feet.
"JJ will take you for a walk later buddy. You gotta take care of the house for a couple of hours this morning, okay Woofs?"
He continued to stare at her and she sighed.
"You drive a hard bargain."
She put her cup down and opened the pantry to get a couple of Woofy's treats. She bent down and fed each to him.
"Payment in snausages as per your contract."
She fed him the last one and scratched between his ears.
"You're a good boy."
Woofy hopped into his bed and curled up happily while Willow washed her hands and drained her coffee.
She made her way back upstairs, rocking back and forth on her heels to stretch her legs. Her calves had been given a break from the constant stair-pounding to prepare bottles since Tara had been able to feed them both, though Willow felt guilty that she wasn't helping at all on that front anymore. She offered to help with intermittent bottles but Tara was adamant they only fed from her and burst into tears the one time Willow had tried to insist.
The twins were awake but just quietly mewing. They were pretty good at that, especially Emily, and only cried if they needed something or were startled. Willow figured it was a hangover from the NICU and having the ability to cry distorted in their early days. It broke Willow's heart and she always tried to make sure she never left them long enough that they'd be awake alone for too long.
"Okay, babies, we are going on a car ride," she announced as she placed a hand on Lily's belly and shook gently, one of her favorite games— Willow swore she'd laugh if she could, "Your very first one together."
She brought over some clothes to change them into.
"Maybe you'll be like your big brother and fall asleep as soon as the keys hit the ignition. I got very familiar with the 24-hour Dairy Queen over on Kenmore Ave after he was born. They called him the Blizzard Baby."
She started to dress Emily in a little pink and white striped sweater that had once belonged to Robyn as a newborn.
"Gotta get you nice and warm to brave the elements for a whole seven seconds."
"I-I need to feed them before I go," Tara's voice came from the doorway, and Willow did well not to jump.
"Right!" Willow said, spinning around, "Leaky boobs are not the best start to psychoanalysis. I had a whole class on it back in college. The only thing worse than leaky boobs is leaky boundaries!"
She trailed off with a chuckle and moved away to give Tara some space to gather the twins up.
"I will start a shopping list," Willow said instead, to sound helpful and held her hands up when Tara glanced over at her, "Don't worry, I'm not bringing the twins to the market. I'll do it online. Do you need help?"
Tara quietly shook her head as she got the babies settled on the feeding pillow. Willow backed up against the wall and brought out her phone to bring up the supermarket website and browse the offers.
"Any requests?"
"No," Tara answered, actually sounding serene for a change as she gazed down at her daughters and they stared back.
Willow added a few more things to the list.
"I know we're running low on shampoo…need to check on the tampon situation. A lot of the lights you use built up while you were pregnant but I can't really use—"
There was a sound; a hiccupping; sob-like little sound but it confused Willow because she knew the babies' mouths were otherwise occupied.
She looked up and saw Tara had started to cry and was looking straight up to the ceiling so her tears wouldn't flow down onto the babies.
Willow quickly pushed off the wall and rushed over.
"What's—" she frowned and then it suddenly evened out and she went ashen, "Oh, Tara, I'm so sorry."
She dropped to her knees in front of Tara.
"I'm so, so, so sorry. I-I forgot. That was so insensitive."
Tara said nothing, just cried; big wracking sobs that shook her whole body and gave the twins a milkshake.
"Wh-What can I do? Should I take the babies?"
"No, they're feeding!" Tara screeched, so shrill it made Willow fall backward, "Call Becky."
Willow's face scrunched.
"Huh?"
"Call Becky!" Tara insisted.
"Okay, okay!" Willow scrambled for her phone and put the call through, "BeckyIt'sWillowTara'sReallyUpsetAndSheWantsToTalkToYouOkay?"
Willow stuck her phone up against Tara's ear since both hands were occupied holding the twins.
Tara held between her ear and shoulder and started blubbering. Willow quickly ran out, feeling like she was intruding.
She went into their bedroom, closed the door, sat on the end of the bed, and had a little cry to herself. She only needed a minute to pull herself together, though she'd regret her faux pas for weeks.
With everything else going on, Willow had just plain forgotten that Tara had had a hysterectomy.
Apparently, Tara hadn't.
How could she?
And how could Willow be so dumb?
She continued to kick herself for burdening her wife when she already had so much else to deal with.
She didn't eavesdrop but she did loiter outside the room to wait until she could hear Tara was off the phone. When she was, Willow knocked on the open door and came over to retrieve her phone, which had slid down into Tara's lap.
"I-I'm so sorry, Tara."
"Just forget it," Tara replied quietly and her voice sounded hollow again, "Can you burp Lily please?"
"Yeah," Willow replied, hurrying over to take her.
They finished prepping the babies together, donning their jackets to get the few feet to the car but took them off again for safety once in there.
The car ride was silent. Willow tried to crack a joke or two but Tara clearly wasn't in the mood and Willow couldn't blame her.
She pulled up at the curb outside the therapist's office when the little mechanical voice told her that they had reached their destination.
Tara looked out the window and placed her hand against. It fell away and she gulped nervously.
Willow took Tara's hand and squeezed comfortingly.
"Everything will be ok—"
Tara snatched her hand back.
"I-I gotta go," she said, her entire deflated demeanor now jumpy and twitchy.
She opened the door and got out quickly.
"We'll be waiting, I love—" Willow started but the door was promptly slammed shut, "You."
The noise disturbed Emily, who started to cry.
Willow sighed and pulled off the curb.
"Who feels like a Butterfinger Blizzard?"
On the street, Tara pressed the buzzer multiple times to get into the building she needed to be in. There were other people on the street and she was sure they were looking at her strangely. After what felt like an age, but was really only about fifteen seconds, it opened and Tara tripped inside as she'd been pushing on the door.
This didn't help matters.
Her breath was really becoming laborious now. She couldn't quite get it to meet her lungs and each one felt heavy in her chest.
She took a wobbly step towards the reception desk and suddenly wished she could just shrivel into obscurity. Her body did its best to comply, her shoulders visibly shrinking as she willed it to move forward.
When she got there, the friendly receptionist looked up and smiled. She moved a file off to the side and gave Tara her full attention. Tara didn't want it.
"Hi, can I get your name?"
"T-T-T," she tried and was so close to bursting into tears "T-T-Tara…"
The receptionist looked sympathetic and Tara felt her chest tighten so much she thought she might collapse.
"Mrs. Rosenberg-Maclay?" the lady said as she looked up the patient list for the day, then grew concerned when she looked back to Tara, "Are you okay? Can I get you some water?"
Tara felt it again, the unsquashable need to flee. She couldn't control it. Where she couldn't get her feet to move forward before, now she couldn't get them to stop as she sped through a door that led to the restroom.
She wanted to splash her face, to tell herself to get it together, to walk out and apologize. Instead, she curled herself into a ball under the sink while clutching her chest and wondered if this was how she died.
About a minute or so later, the restroom door swung open and a woman in her late thirties with shoulder-length blonde hair and wearing a tailored pantsuit and glasses stepped in. She looked around and once she had determined there was no one else there, she strode over to Tara and kneeled in front of her, a foot or two away.
"Tara? I'm Erin Moss, you have your appointment with me today. Tell me what you're feeling right now."
This was a perfect stranger but Tara actually found comfort in that.
"Chest," she replied, hoarse as she pressed her palm there, "Hurts. F-feels fast. A-and my hands are tingly. Can't breathe."
Her whole body tensed.
"A-and it f-f-feels like the c-ceiling is about to cave in."
"Have you experienced these feelings before?" Erin asked in an even tone.
Tara just nodded.
"You're having a panic attack, Tara," Erin continued in a soft, assured voice, "You're safe and I'm here to help you through it."
Tara's eyes creased emotionally and she started to lose what little piece of control she had left, but Erin remained calm in her tone as she coaxed Tara through it.
"I'm going to do a breathing exercise with you. It's okay if you can't follow straight away. This will pass. I'm here to get you through it. We're going to inhale for four seconds. You just join in when you can. We're going to inhale for four seconds."
Erin probably repeated those four seconds twenty times before Tara was able to catch on, but Tara did catch on and Erin was very quickly able to move her through to exhale until they were in a steady rhythm.
Erin still wasn't in any rush and didn't deviate from their pattern until Tara's body had unfurled itself and her hands had stopped visibly shaking.
"Do you feel able to come through to my office?"
Tara quietly nodded and Erin let her get herself up and led her back out of the restroom and straight through to her office. She showed Tara where she could sit and silently placed tissues and water on the small table in front of her.
She sat opposite Tara with her leg bent over one knee and after a short pause, spoke.
"When you want to, tell me how you're feeling in your body now."
Tara slowly drank the whole glass of water back.
"My eyes sting a bit and everything feels heavy."
She didn't even realize she was speaking in full sentences again.
"Is this how you usually feel after this occurs?" Erin asked.
Tara opened her mouth, then paused and closed it again.
"It usually feels…like it's still there. Just bubbling under the surface of my skin. It never quite goes."
Erin noted something on the legal pad sitting on the arm of her chair.
"And is it still there now?"
Tara seemed surprised as she considered the question and her own body.
"No."
"When did these episodes start?" Erin asked and sat patiently to wait for an answer.
Tara closed her eyes. She exhaled.
"Just in the past few weeks."
Erin nodded.
"And is it your first experience of panic attacks?"
Tara shook her head.
"When I was younger, there were a few, um…episodes," she frowned at her words, "But not since college."
"Did you seek help at that point?" Erin asked, her consistently soft tone making Tara ease back into the couch without even realizing it.
Tara nodded.
"Yes. I had therapy for a few weeks. I-I was able to resolve a lot of childhood issues and i-it didn't happen again, except…"
She frowned some more.
"Willow and I had a fight, back then. A-and it was kind of rough and I had one after that. But that was it."
"And who is Willow?" Erin pressed gently, pen poised.
"My wife," Tara replied quickly and it disconcerted her for a moment how much she felt able to pour out to someone who didn't even know who Willow was, "But they weren't like this, before. Back then, I felt lost and scared. Rooted to the spot. N-Now I want to run, I want to—"
Her face started to crumble all of a sudden.
"I-I want to leave my babies," she sobbed and dropped her face into her hands, "But I don't want to leave my babies, I love my babies!"
Erin gently pushed the tissues toward Tara.
"You might feel lots of emotion or think lots of thoughts during an attack that don't come from a real place. They come from your adrenaline response, they come from the fear. They don't represent how you really feel."
Tara plucked a tissue out of the box and rubbed each eye with it.
"I know that. M-My wife, she studied psychology. She says she doesn't remember but she always—"
She suddenly burst into fresh tears and her whole body slumped toward her knees.
Erin allowed her the time and space to do so.
"What's upsetting you right now?" she asked when some minutes had passed.
Tara cried harder and had to fight to get anything other than noise out.
"I-I think i-it's when she touches me."
"When who touches you?" Erin clarified.
"Willow," Tara sobbed, "I…feel…wrong…all of the time. But it's only when she touches me that I…"
"When Willow touches you, you feel that's what's triggering the panic attacks?" Erin deduced from what she was hearing.
Tara could only nod through eyes hidden with tears. Erin inhaled a soft breath and let it out again.
"When you're ready, take me back."
Tara looked up, helpless.
"T-to where?"
Erin uncrossed and crossed her legs again, settling back.
"To wherever you feel this all started."
Close to an hour later, Tara sat back on the sofa with a single tissue crumpled in her hand ready to catch any tears, but it remained dry.
"Our time is nearly up," Erin said softly, "How are you feeling about everything we discussed today?"
"A-A little shocked, I think," Tara replied, her voice raw but clear, "I know all about post-partum depression…I see a lot of clients with it. But it never occurred to me that I could…"
"The illness can trap the brain in self-doubt," Erin mused thoughtfully.
Tara nodded slowly.
"I'm still reeling a bit from the PTSD part," she admitted, swallowing, "PTSD feels like it's for war vets o-or rape survivors. Not someone who just gives birth."
"Trauma doesn't have a restriction on who it pervades," Erin replied, meeting Tara's self-deprecating gaze, "The birth you describe was incredibly traumatic. And the separation from your newborn children afterward could only compound it."
Tara bit on the inside of her lip.
"But why is Willow the thing that…" she paused, frustrated with herself, "She's been through just as much as me. Her wife and her babies were taken…and she took care of everything at home while I've just fallen apart. And I'm not scared of her like I was scared of my fath—"
Her voice caught and she had to promptly shut up to control herself.
Erin wrote something and looked back at Tara.
"You say specifically that it happens when she touches you. That your mind goes back to the birth."
Tara nodded and Erin gently raised one eyebrow.
"Did she touch you during the birth?"
"She held my—" Tara held up her hand and paused. She flashed to her hand being grabbed in the car and immediately her mind when back to the birthing room with the lights and the screaming and Willow holding her hand tight enough to leave marks. Tears filled but they didn't fall, "She held my hand."
She sobbed again at the injustice of it all.
"She doesn't deserve this."
"You don't deserve this," Erin replied softly, "Nobody does."
Tara's eyes creased.
"I'd like to continue our sessions if you would also be willing," Erin continued and Tara surprised herself with how quick she was to nod, "Good."
She sat forward.
"And I'd also like to discuss medication. Your sleep state, in particular, is giving me concern but I really think you would get benefit from starting on anti-depressant medication."
"I-I'm breastfeeding," Tara replied unsurely.
Erin nodded.
"There are some options we can discuss."
A few minutes later, Erin was pulling a prescription sheet from the pad as she led Tara to the door.
"Collect these from the pharmacy and take your first one tonight right before bed."
"A-And they're safe to take for the babies?" Tara clarified.
Erin nodded.
"They leave your body quickly so there's no time for a potent dose to get into your breast milk overnight," she reassured, "I'll consult with your NICU doctor about the anti-depressants but do consider your own needs and if you'd be willing to stop breastfeeding if it's ultimately not recommended. What you're struggling with usually responds very well to medication."
Tara just pursed her lips and Erin nodded again.
"We'll talk in our next session. Thank you for coming today, Tara. I know it was difficult."
Tara just nodded and left with a quick goodbye. Her mind was reeling with a lot of new information to process. She signed a form with the receptionist and made her next appointment and walked back out of the building a lot calmer than when she'd walked in.
The minivan was waiting right where Willow promised and Tara let herself in on the passenger side.
"Hey!" Willow said and it was obvious how nervous she was too, "How'd it go?"
Tara glanced back at the peacefully sleeping babies and pulled the door closed. She looked over at her wife.
"We have a lot to talk about."
Willow hurried back down the stairs and into their living room, where Tara was sitting with her pharmacy bag beside her on the couch.
"They stayed asleep somehow. Must be all that good car juju."
"Must be," Tara echoed quietly with her palms pressed together between her knees.
Willow perched on the arm of the couch and waited. When Tara said nothing, she decided to instead.
"Was she nice? She got good reviews. The best, actually."
Tara nodded.
"Yes. Very. I'm going back to her next week."
"Awesome!" Willow replied, a little bit of relief flashing across her face, "So you got some meds?"
"Sleeping pills," Tara replied tiredly.
"Oh that's good," Willow nodded, almost too quickly, "That's really good. I know you haven't been…"
She stopped on a sigh.
Tara's knees gently bounced up and down.
"She said if I feed the babies right before I take them it won't be too present in my milk when the next feed comes around."
"Great!" Willow replied again, rubbing her hands on her thighs, "And there's still lots of milk in the freezer if we need it."
"I like feeding them," Tara cut in.
Willow frowned slightly.
"I know you do."
Tara felt those negative thoughts she could identify a bit better now creeping in.
"S-She suggested maybe I try anti-depressants too."
Willow nodded eagerly.
"Oh, cool! I mean, yeah they have a really good response rate with—"
"But taking a pill every day is a lot different than taking one for a few nights," Tara interjected.
Willow frowned again.
"Oh, well, yeah, um—"
"It could get into my milk and harm the babies, especially since they were premature," Tara explained, "It's too much of a risk to let them have possibly contaminated milk."
Willow nodded slowly.
"So we're switching to formula? That's okay—"
"What? No," Tara looked at Willow like she was crazy, "I'm not taking them."
Willow did a double-take.
"But the doctor recommended them."
"But it's not an option," Tara countered.
Willow's eyebrows gently rose on her face.
"Not to be, um, pedantic here, but it kinda is?"
Tara looked up and Willow could see how sunken they were from this position.
"I just got Emily to take me."
"I know," Willow replied empathically as she slid down onto the cushion beside Tara, "I do. But Tara she wouldn't recommend them if you didn't need them."
Tara looked sad but resolute.
"It's not an option."
"It is an option!" Willow replied in frustration and made herself take a calming breath, "The babies, they need you to be well, okay?"
Her eyes grew glassy.
"We need you to be well."
She tried to hold Tara's hand but Tara snatched it away. She stood up and walked away before she could get triggered again, but Willow didn't know that and just saw her wife taking one step backward after the giant steps forward they'd taken this morning. Two steps forward and one step back was a subversion she would normally enjoy but that step backward felt like a dinosaur foot had made it.
She watched Tara's back disappear, getting further and further away from her and she had no idea how to close the chasm.
"I'm sorry, Willow. I really am."