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Wilson awoke the next morning and rolled over to face the clock. It was nearly 10:00 on the Saturday morning, and that startled him. He had never been a late sleeper. The events of the previous day came rushing back to him n an instant, though, and he rolled to look at Mary. She appeared to be sleeping as soundly as ever. She had one leg out from underneath the blankets, one hand above her head, and the other thrust underneath the pillows supporting her head. She was definitely dead asleep.
Wilson crawled out of bed quietly and went to go check on Billy. Much like his father, he was an early riser as well. Hearing no noise in the house, Wilson figured Billy was still in his bedroom. Wilson opened the door and saw him sitting on his bed reading a children's chapter book.
"Good morning Dad," Billy said happily.
"'Morning son. Reading are we?" Wilson was shocked to find Billy sitting in front of a book rather in front of a television.
"I have a book report do next week. Only seven more chapters to go!" he announced proudly.
"Good. I'm very proud of you. You're such a hard worker. Will you do me a favor, though?" Billy's eyes perked up at the beginning of his father's request. "Would you mind reading quietly for another hour? Mom's still asleep."
"OK Dad."
Wilson thanked his son and ducked out of his bedroom. He went back into his own room and got back into his bed just as swiftly as he had gotten out in the first place. Before placing his head back down on the pillow for a period of deep thought, he leaned over and kissed the top of Mary's head lightly. She didn't budge. She obviously wasn't lying; she never slept like this unless if she was pregnant. He could be confident of that statement because he knew from experience- too much experience in fact. Wilson's mind quickly wandered back to Mary's two previous pregnancies, if you could call them that. He knew that Mary wouldn't have coined that term regarding those times.
The first time that Mary was pregnant, everything was happy. Wilson could remember fondly how he and Mary had told her parents and the rest of the family that they were pregnant. Everyone was so excited for them, almost more excited than Mary and Wilson had been themselves. The pregnancy wasn't exactly what they had wanted when they'd wanted it, but they were ecstatic nonetheless. Having a baby had jumped to the top of their list of priorities in life.
The two of them had gotten really into the whole experience, too. They kept a mental list of baby names that they liked, began to think of what life would be as a foursome, and spent many a night with their hands on Mary's still flat stomach falling asleep. Mary's family had a similar reaction. This was the first of the Camden children to be expecting, and they couldn't have been happier.
But as quickly as their excitement came, it was all replaced with sadness. Wilson remembered that night clearly. It was one of the worst nights of Wilson's life to date.
Wilson walked through the door that night, but the house was calm and still. Usually, he was welcomed home to bustle around him from his wife and son. Tonight, nothing. Wilson slipped off his jacket and walked into the family room, seeing the glow of the television set against the white wall opposite it. Billy was sitting quietly tuned into one of the many children's networks on the new TV channel package they had subscribed to when they moved into their modest sized house.
"Hey Billy. Where's Mom?"
Billy sighed. "She's in the bedroom. Something happened. I don't know what but she's really sad. I haven't even seen her since I got home from school."
Thinking this was odd, Wilson walked upstairs and into the master bedroom. Mary sat in the middle of the king sized mattress with a blanket draped over her legs and the contents of an entire box of tissues placed around her. The room was dark, except for the faint light filtering in through the bay window on the other side of the room. It hadn't looked like Mary had moved in hours, and from what Billy said she probably hadn't.
"Mare?" he questioned cautiously.
"Wilson?"
He flipped on the light and as soon as he did Mary buried her face into her hands. She didn't want Wilson to see that she had been sobbing. Ti was too late, though, he had already seen her. Wilson sat on the bed next to Mary and placed his hands on her waist. He studied her face for a second before speaking. He couldn't possibly imagine what would make her be like this.
"What's wrong? What happened?" She didn't answer him, but a few tears rolled down her cheeks. He thought for a second. "Wait…did something happen at your doctor's appointment?" he asked getting a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Are you OK?"
Mary shook her head furiously. "I-I'm fine, but the baby is not." He squeezed her hands. "I…I can't even say it." More tears fell.
"Mare, whatever it is. I'm going to be here for you."
"I had a miscarriage," she said quietly.
Wilson stared at her, until he realized he was doing it. Then he cleared his throat and spoke. "Don't you…I-I don't understand."
She knew what he was talking about. She had had the same question. "It's called a missed miscarriage. There are no symptoms or anything- you kind of have to be diagnosed with it. It's kind of like you just stop being pregnant."
That was number one. Mary was so upset that she barely spoke for days. All Wilson remembered was how sad that she was, and how she clung to him for the longest time. They grew much closer during the two months that followed that. That intimacy level in their relationship was advantageous for the next phase of their story. They decided to try to get pregnant again. It was what they both wanted.
After four months of trying, scheduling in three times a week to do so, they were lucky enough to get pregnant again. Wilson was thrilled and so was Mary, but not as thrilled as she should have been. Her joy was lined with fear- fear of losing a child for the second time. She didn't think that she could deal with the heartbreak again and Wilson knew that her mind was set that way. That in itself was not a good place for her to be mentally.
At work, Wilson's phone on his desk rang. After two rings, he answered it. "Wilson West."
"Mr. West? This is Barbara from GlenOak Hospital. You're wife is here and I was asked to notify you."
"Is she OK?"
"I'm not exactly sure. All I know is that you were asked to come down here and it has something to do with her pregnancy."
"I'll be right there, thank you."
Wilson hung up the phone and looked at his watch. 2:45- Billy would be home from school soon. After a quick call to the Camdens to ask them to watch Billy, he rushed out of the door and over to the hospital. Once he arrived, he found out where Mary was located and rushed to her side. He opened the door and found Mary laying in a hospital bed and a doctor next to her.
"Husband?" the woman asked. Wilson just nodded. "Come outside. We can talk for a moment."
The nice doctor explained to Wilson that Mary had had yet another miscarriage. The cause of this one, like the last one, had been unknown. Mary had started bleeding so she called her doctor and she suggested that Mary bring herself down to the emergency room. Nothing can be done to reverse a miscarriage, but what they did do was give Mary medication to drain her uterus. The medication, however, usually had bad side effects like cramping, nausea, and vomiting could occur, so Mary had to stay overnight for observation. It was bad before emotionally, but this time it had crossed over to the physical realm.
The final image that always remained with Wilson when he remembered any of the goings on was the look on Mary's face that night she had spent in the hospital. It had broken his heart into thousands of pieces- so many in fact that after nearly six months it had still not fully healed. He could fully recall Mary opening her eyes around 11:30 at night, and turning her head to look over at Wilson. Her eyes opened up to her soul and for the first time since he had met Mary, Wilson had fully understood her. She wanted a baby- her baby, his baby, their baby, and she couldn't understand what she had done to have it continuously taken away from her the way it had. He also saw all of her sadness and the pain that she had harbored since the first miscarriage had happened.
That was the way Wilson saw Mary half of the time he looked at her, and that was the way she was perceived that morning. That image had haunted Wilson for so long because he knew no matter what he did there was noting he could do to fix it. Holding her hand all day wouldn't be enough. Clutching Mary tightly at night wouldn't be enough. Kissing her pouted lips wouldn't be enough. Nothing would ever be enough to erase all of her pain.
In a small attempt to comfort her, Wilson reached out and ran his hand over her cheek. Her eyes fluttered opened and she sighed when she saw him.
"Morning already?"
He smiled slightly. "Yup."
She rolled onto her side, facing him, and closed her eyes without falling asleep. "What are you thinking about?" she asked after realizing he had been up for a while.
"Are you going to be OK? Are you going to be able to handle this?" he blurted out without really thinking, or answering her question.
"I really hope so," she replied. "You have to conquer your fears, you know?"
He took her hand and raised it to his lips, grazing the back of her hand lightly. "I know."
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A/N: I liked this chapter. Not exactly as much detail as I wanted but I think it is enough. I hope you get everything I was trying to say. Oh yeah, I am no medical expert, but I did research for this. WebMD is your friend!
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That's good, good. Now give me a pouty look. Yes, yes. Review and I'll put your picture on the cover of the next Depressed Monthly. Mary's been on the front for way too long.
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