This was actually ready last night...but my internet went down...hope you like it. -Marci
She slowly rubs her hand over her swollen abdomen. She woke up this morning, and she had popped. She feels as if she has a half-inflated balloon under her scrub top. If people didn't know she was pregnant before, they sure as hell will know she is now. She had tried to keep it a secret. She didn't think it was anyone's business. But then again, the hospital seems to operate as a machine that feels it has a right to know all the details of her life.
She instinctively rubs her fingers along the fading scar on her forearm. It has been almost four months. A long four months. Four months of avoiding. Four months of therapy. Four months of trying to feel whole.
She moved out of her house. She couldn't take the worried looks or the hovering. She couldn't ask them to leave, so she did. She hasn't had an entire conversation with any of her former family members in almost four months. The only person she had really talked to had been her therapist. She was making steps, but only steps. No giant leaps had been made. Recovery takes time, and Meredith is definitely taking her time.
But she had to talk to him. Today. She had to talk to him today because she has an appointment tomorrow. She doesn't want to talk to him. She has managed to avoid him for the majority of the three months, only answering questions about the pregnancy and ignoring all of the others. She hadn't told him about the other appointments. She hadn't had him there with her when she heard the heart beat the first time. She had slipped the first sonogram picture under the door of his office in an envelope.
But tomorrow. Tomorrow is big. Tomorrow she will find out the sex of the baby. Tomorrow she will find out if she is going to have a son or a daughter. Tomorrow she will actually let Derek come with her. This is what her therapist calls progress. Meredith calls it insanity.
But she is going to ask him. She is scared, but she is going to ask him. She is going to ask him because tomorrow she is finding out the sex and last night, last night she had been able to feel the baby kick under her hand. So, she is going to ask him. She is going to ask him because as scared as she is of letting him back in, she is terrified of screwing up their child.
"Woah! You popped!" a sarcastic voice says from behind her.
She rolls her eyes and continues reading the chart in front of her. The chart that Bailey handed her two minutes ago before telling her to find her attending. Her attending who just so happens to be Dr. Shepherd today. At least she wouldn't have trouble finding him.
"So, how long are you going to keep shutting me out? I get Barbie, Bambi, and even Evil Spawn, but I'm the person that would help you drag a dead body across the room if you needed me to. So, how long are you going to be super dark and super twisty? Because I can't take it much longer," Cristina says as she pops a cookie into her mouth.
Progress. Progress. Progress. That is Meredith's mantra for today—the one she and her therapist talked about when she stormed into her office first thing this morning.
"Meet me at Joe's after work?" Meredith asks with a sigh as she closes her chart.
Cristina's eyes widen in shock. This isn't the first time she has given the person speech, but it is the first time that Meredith has responded. Cristina nods mutely before responding. "I'm done at six…but…isn't tequila bad for the baby?"
Meredith rolls her eyes as she allows a smile to form on her mouth, the first in months. It appears somewhat distorted from the suddenly strange curvature. "I'm not going to drink tequila. I can drink water."
"Right…" Cristina mutters as she eyes her up and down. "See you at six then," she says as she pops another cookie into her mouth before walking away.
Meredith leans her head forward in her hands. Progress. Progress. Progress. She needs to make progress. She needs to grow up. She needs to be an adult. She needs her person back.
After three weeks in a mental institution and the last three months in therapy, Meredith is finally letting someone back in. It hasn't been easy. With her numerous issues-- the dead mommy, the dead step-mommy, the alcoholic absent father, the suddenly sisters, the three near death experience (two at her own hands), the impending motherhood, and the McDreamy ex—it is no surprise it has taken her this long to once again resemble a human being.
She silently trails her fingers along the top of her abdomen. She knows she should be looking for Derek. She should have went looking for him five minutes ago, but knowing she should do something and actually doing it are two very different things.
She has seen the sadness in his eyes. She has seen the longing when he looks at her. She has seen the regret and the sorrow. She didn't want to hurt him. Well, maybe after she woke up in the hospital room she did. Maybe then she did want to hurt him. Maybe then she wanted to hurt him because of how much he had hurt her. Maybe. But she also felt she was self-preserving in her actions. She couldn't take anymore pain. She couldn't take any more rejection. She couldn't and so she wouldn't. She grew a backbone while tearing apart his heart sinew by sinew.
But then her therapist pointed out something Meredith refused to acknowledge. She told Meredith she hadn't really wanted to die. Meredith has been insulted and ran from the session, only to return a few hours later and ask what she meant. Meredith's therapist acknowledged that she was a great surgeon, like her mother, and that if Meredith had really wanted to die, she would have done better that she did. She would have succeeded if she really wanted to die. What she really wanted, deep down on some subconscious level, because Meredith still refuses to acknowledge the truth, is for Derek to rescue her. What she really wanted was for him to show up. For him to save her. For him to be her knight in shining whatever.
She allows the second smile of the day, the second smile in almost four months, to grace her face as she feels movement under her hand. Movement. That is what today is about. Not only the movement of the baby, but Meredith moving forward. Movement. Steps. Growth. Progress.
"Dr. Grey?" an all-too familiar voice asks concernedly.
She jerks her head up and her eyes meet his dull blues, a shade she is now accustomed to.
"I've been looking for you. I was told you are my intern today…" he says slowly as he takes in her slouched appearance. He notices her baby bump, something that wasn't obvious until today. He wants to smile, but he can't. He can't smile because he wants so much to have his hand on hers. He can't smile. He hasn't been able to smile in almost four months. But he notices her. He notices her smile, something he thought had gone into extinction, and it causes his heart to beat a bit faster.
"Yeah. Sorry. I was just going to come find you," she says with a sigh as she straightens up.
"Are you alright?" he asks as he glances down at her stomach, letting her know that he is asking her in reference to her pregnancy. He knows by now that she will only talk to him regarding her pregnancy. At least she hasn't shut him out completely. At least not for the last two months.
She nods slowly as she subconsciously runs her hand over her abdomen once again. It's now or never. Progress. "Dr. Shepherd?" she asks as he begins to look over the chart for their patient.
"Yes?" he asks, a bit of excitement in that one syllable. She never offers information.
She bites down on her lip as she hands him her appointment card. "Tomorrow…I have an appointment…to find out the sex…I just thought…maybe…you don't have to…but you would like to be there…I mean…it's okay if you want to say no…" she utters quickly as she stares at her feet.
He smiles. He smiles the first smile in almost four months. "I'll be there," he tells her definitively as his heart continues to beat rapidly in his chest.
"Good," she says with a nod. Progress.
"Good," he responds with a growing smile.
He begins to walk towards their patient's room, his gait a little lighter than it was previously.
"Oh, and Dr. Shepherd?" she says right outside the patient's room as the baby kicks her bladder.
He stops and turns to face her, his eyebrows raised signaling for her to continue.
She smiles at him again. Third smile in almost four months. "He's kicking now," she practically whispers.
Derek smiles at her again. Second smile in almost four months. "He? I thought you said you were finding out tomorrow?" he asks as he leans against the wall, happy to be having any type of conversation with her—his Meredith that he broke.
She shrugs. "Just a feeling," she responds simply before walking into the patient's room, Derek following behind her. Step by step she is healing. It may have taken her four months to lay the foundation, but now she is working towards building back her life, step by step, piece by piece, person by person, until she finally feels whole again.