A/N: Hello everyone!
This is the final chapter of Body Changes, and I'm so glad that you all have enjoyed it and kept up with it. I don't plan on this being my last Madam Secretary story, so remember to follow me as an author if you'd like some more M Sec in your life.
I've really enjoyed writing this story, and I'll definitely miss it a little! I hope you enjoy this finale and that it warms your heart a little.
TW: Mentions of suicide and PPD (much like last chapter).
February 28, 1994 | Elizabeth
She stepped out of the bathroom and stared at their bed for a few moments, letting the mess of blankets and sheets and pillows taunt her, saying things like "you still haven't done anything" and "don't you wish you could've slept?" And yes, she wished she could have slept. Since Henry left last week, between worrying about him and being up with Stevie, she has barely slept a total of fifteen hours in the last five days.
Once again, she couldn't bring herself to make the bed. She watched the sheets and blankets as she moved past the mattress, making her way to the dresser on her side of the bed. The pillows that she lined up where Henry usually laid are still in the same positions, and Stevie was lying between those and Elizabeth's own pillow on her little cushion. Elizabeth thought she was crying, and maybe she was, but she just couldn't bring herself to go over and tend to the baby right now. Not this morning.
She patted her shoulders dry from her wet hair before bending over and wrapping her hair with her towel, pulling some clothing from the dresser drawer and monotonously getting dressed. Her ears felt like they were buzzing, and it was probably because Stevie was screaming her head off. She glanced back at the baby, making sure she was still breathing even though she obviously was to be able to scream like that, and then continued what she was doing. Elizabeth stepped in front of the mirror as she buttoned her shirt up, sighing when she sees herself there. This was the first time she'd dressed in these clothes since before Stevie was born—not her pre-pregnancy clothes, of course, but her CIA clothes.
This was the day she had to go back to work. This was the day that she finally got to leave her baby with someone else for a while. This was the day she wasn't looking forward to when Henry was still here, but once he left, she couldn't wait to get back to work and talk to real people who didn't scream and cry all day. This was the day she finally got to have a part of herself back, her own self, and not just be Stevie's mom.
Yesterday was particularly a tough day, and she knew that even in the heat of it all, but couldn't get herself to stop thinking how terrible of a mother she was because she was ready to do anything she could to stop Stevie from crying. Somewhere in the back of her head, very clouded by all the other thoughts, she knew that Stevie was probably fussy and upset because Elizabeth had been upset ever since Henry left for Miramar. She'd been told by someone, she couldn't think of who, that babies sense their mother's emotions and feed off them, but Elizabeth just thought "How fitting, what's one more thing that the baby feeds on from me?"
She loved Stevie—she really did. But these days were worse than hard. She couldn't even call them difficult. The thoughts that danced around in her head unsolicited were something she wouldn't wish on her worst enemy. Those thoughts along with the anxiety of whether Henry was okay or not or whether he would make it back or not frequently performed a tango in her head. Even as she shoved her feet into her heels, pulling at her pant leg to let the hem drop out of the heel of her shoe, she was inundated with intrusive, annoying thoughts that made her simply want to scream.
Yet, she didn't. She didn't stand in the shower for too long, even though yesterday she hadn't showered at all and maybe even the day before that. She didn't shut Stevie's bedroom door and let her cry, even though yesterday she caught herself about to shake the baby when she wouldn't stop crying before bed. She didn't leave Stevie in the house all by herself and go lay down on a busy highway, even though everything in her body was telling her to do so. She didn't know if it was stubbornness keeping her going or what, but she was beginning to think Henry might've been right—she did need help.
But it would get better when she went back to work, right? Some time away from the baby would be good, hopefully, and she would be back to normal and be able to bond with that baby girl that she knows she loves more than ever. Right?
January 1, 2023 | Henry
Tradition was that he always made pancakes on holidays, and that even includes New Year's Day. But this morning, he couldn't quite get himself to leave Elizabeth in the bed. Willow was sleeping peacefully in her bassinet at the end of their bed, starting to sleep longer throughout the night and not wake up so many times. His hand is only a little numb from the lack of circulation going through, cut off by Elizabeth's body laying on his arm. He doesn't mind, though, the feeling has always come back whenever this happens. He can handle a little pins and needles feeling in his fingers—it was worth it.
Judging by the amount of daylight outside—the sun was just starting to light the sky pink—he knows that Stevie will probably be up soon, wandering into the executive residence to find her dad making pancakes, like he always does. He only briefly thinks about the letdown she would feel to not find him in the kitchen and simply moves his body closer to his wife's.
When her eyes start to flutter open, she startles, "Where's Willow?"
"What do you mean, babe? She's in her bassinet."
She picks her head up and looks to the end of the bed. When she makes eye contact with the bassinet, she lays back down and shuts her eyes, "Did she not wake up last night?"
"She woke up a few times, but I got her and just let you sleep. You looked like something was on your mind last night."
The silence that he receives tells him he was right, something was definitely on her mind last night.
"Is it something you want to talk about?" He asks, watching as her eyes slowly open and make contact with his.
"Remember that note that a young girl gave me outside the VA hospital that day?" She asks, and Henry nods, "Today's the year anniversary of Kelsey's suicide. I just wonder what Kayla is doing today is all." She says.
He stays silent for a moment, letting his hand gently palm the skin underneath her shirt, rubbing the dip in her back. "Why don't we see if we can maybe talk to her, then?" He asks, "I'm guessing you've already found out where she lives."
She looks up at him sheepishly, "I can't believe you would accuse me of such a thing. Spying? On U.S. citizens?" She asks, then breaks. "Yeah, I did. I asked Isabelle to find her for me."
Henry laughs quietly, careful to not wake Willow up too soon this morning. "I knew it." He says, "I'm just surprised you didn't do it yourself."
"There's ethical concerns now that I'm president, Henry."
"Of all people, I should know that." He replies teasingly.
She shifts a little and snuggles into his chest more, letting her hair come and tickle his peck as she gets comfortable. "I don't know if I want to talk to Kayla, honestly. All last night I was thinking about how my own postpartum was so bad with Stevie. All the outside factors weren't any help with my own, though, but—that could've been me doing what Kelsey did. So easily." She whispers, "And I can't shake that."
He tightens his arms around her, giving her a loving squeeze before just holding on to her. "So what do you want to do? What would have helped you back then?"
"Other than to have my husband at home?"
"Other than that."
She sighs, looking up at him again, "I wish there would've been more support from my doctors. They made me fill out the surveys and do all the PPD checkup things, but I lied on every single one of them." She admits, "I didn't feel like I could actually talk to anyone about any of it. The thoughts in my head were just too dark to put out into the world, Henry. I didn't even tell you about a lot of it. There were some rough moments."
He kisses her head, "Do you think counseling would have helped?"
"Would I have gone?"
Thinking for a moment, she shakes his head, "Probably not. I could barely get you to go talk to anyone after you were bombed."
"Exactly." She answers, sighing.
"Would you have gone if there were more support from—I don't know, society?" He asks, "Would it have helped if it were less stigmatized?"
She shrugs, "Maybe? I can't know that, though."
"Maybe start with that. Work on destigmatizing."
"How?"
"How? Babe, you just birthed a human being, this is a perfect opportunity to destigmatize while the media are all talking about how the first woman president has also had a baby while in office. I think that would be a great way to just get the conversations rolling."
January 1, 2023 | Elizabeth
She knows that she technically wasn't supposed to be working yet, but with Henry going off to make the pancakes and Willow still, miraculously, sound asleep, she decided to wheel Willow's bassinet into the office with her and start on a proposal for bringing awareness to the postpartum depression situation in this country.
As she finished typing out the first draft of the letter, Willow began waking up, so Elizabeth quickly went to make her a bottle, scooped her up from her bassinet, and fed her in her office chair while going back over the draft to look for changes.
Dear Members of Congress,
As the first female President of the United States, and a mother of four children, including one born during my time in office, I am acutely aware of the challenges that mothers face during the postpartum period. One of the most pressing issues that we must address as a nation is mental health, including postpartum depression (PPD) which affects countless women every year and can have serious negative outcomes.
Every year, thousands of women across the United States experience postpartum depression. This condition affects the health and well-being of mothers, as well as their families who also experience the effects of PPD. A leading cause for maternal mortality in the United States is suicide due to postpartum depression, and I was recently made aware of a particular young woman who has been greatly affected by PPD named Kayla Hale.
Kayla Hale is the sister of Kelsey Hale. She made me aware of Kelsey's death last year, mere weeks after Kelsey took her own life because of PPD and left her newborn son, Hudson, for Kayla to take care of and later adopt. This proposition is written in Kelsey Hale's honor, and with the deepest respect to her sister, Kayla, who has had to take on a whole new life.
This is why I am writing to urge you to take action by raising awareness about postpartum depression and supporting the women who are affected by this condition. I propose that we establish the Postpartum Education, Advocacy, Counseling, and Empowerment (PEACE) Act, a comprehensive approach to address the issue of postpartum depression.
The PEACE Act will promote education, advocacy, counseling, and empowerment to women who are at risk of postpartum depression or are currently experiencing symptoms. It will help to provide greater access to mental health services and support for new mothers, including counseling, therapy, and medication. The PEACE Act will also promote and fund greater research into postpartum depression and its causes, to better understand how to prevent and treat this condition.
I believe that the PEACE Act will be a critical step forward in addressing this important issue and supporting women across the United States. By promoting education, advocacy, counseling, and empowerment, we can help ensure that women have the resources and support they need to stay healthy and thrive during this important time in their lives. I am asking you to not let Kelsey Hale's death go unnoticed, and to enact change so that mother's around the United States can feel that there are better options than suicide.
I urge you to take action on this important issue and support the PEACE Act. Together, we can work towards a brighter, healthier future for women and families across the United States.
Sincerely,
President Elizabeth McCord, mother and PPD survivor.
Feeling pretty happy with the way it looks, she attaches the draft in an email: "Happy New Year, Jay! Here's something I'd like to work on when I get back in the office. Also, please find Kayla Hale's information and set up a meeting with her ASAP. I'll fly to her, or you can fly her out if she wants to come visit D.C. Thanks, POTUS."
When she sends the email, she feels as though she has this new ability to breathe lighter. Finally, it feels like she's doing something proactive instead of counteractive—not just cleaning up messes from other countries or from senators and other elected officials. She's been able to enact a few things while in office these past few years, but this feels bigger. This feels like something she will live happily with for the rest of her life.
Her mind quickly switches to her own daughters, knowing that these types of changes will affect all three of them. With Stevie having her own baby in just a few short months, changes like this are something that's definitely needed for them.
January 30, 2023 | Elizabeth
She's up before the sun this morning and, for once, it's not because of Willow. Willow has surprisingly been sleeping so well, and Henry helps out with her so much that it's really not even affected her sleep that much. Thankful doesn't even begin to describe what she feels for Henry—he's always been willing to help her whenever he's here. It's only been magnified since the Ukraine bombing, too, and she hopes he knows how happy she is that he takes care of things for her.
She slides her skirt on and tucks her white blouse into the top, zipping the side before slipping into a blazer. Pulling her hair from the collar, she gives her head a little shake and lets the curls bounce around her shoulders. A fresh haircut yesterday did her a lot of good—more than she'd realized at the time. She hadn't even realized how long her hair was getting until she saw a picture of herself that Henry had taken. Willow was curled up between Elizabeth's thigh and stomach on the couch while they were watching a movie last week, and while it was incredibly precious and made her heart want to burst, she couldn't help but notice that her hair was stringing down past her shoulders. She should've noticed it before when Willow had started grabbing at it so much, but that picture was what made her make a hair appointment with her stylist, knowing she'd be back to work soon and would need to feel good, too.
Henry comes up behind her with Willow tucked into his arm, "You ready to go back?" He asks.
She nods, "I think so."
She hadn't been sure this entire time if she would be ready to go back so soon after Willow. But it's been over two months, now, and she feels like Willow is old enough to be left with Stevie—who finally agreed to babysitting until her own son arrived. Her mind had gone back and forth from being ready to not being ready, but last week when Willow lifted her head up while laying on Elizabeth's chest, she knew that Willow was strong enough and, honestly, that Elizabeth herself was ready to get back to doing the job she loved so much.
Turning around from the mirror, she presses a kiss to Willow's soft head, pushing the blonde hair back. It had turned from the thin peach fuzz into something slightly little thicker, but it was still blonde like Elizabeth's was as a child. She loved the idea of this kid actually looking like her—something she hadn't been so lucky with on the other three. "You grow and carry a child for nine months, Henry, and then they come out looking like the other person. How fair does that feel?" She remembers telling her husband years ago after Jason was born. He looked more like her than the other two, but even he grew to resemble Henry more. "You're going to be good for your sister while she babysits, right?" She coos to Willow, whose eyes were totally fixed on her mother while she pulled the corners of her little mouth up into a smile. "You are?" Elizabeth replies, her voice raising into that excited mother tone before scooping her from Henry's arm.
She adjusts her blazer and then lets Willow settle into the material, all while she was still fixed on Elizabeth. "She's going to be so good for her sister." Henry affirms, kissing Elizabeth's temple.
Her gaze shifts from her precious little one in her arms to her adoring husband beside her, "This still feels like a dream." She whispers to him, "Sometimes I have to remind myself it isn't."
Henry smiles, nodding his head, "I feel the same way."
She leans in and kisses him on the lips, letting their bodies move closer to each other while her lips lingered on his for a few moments. "I love you." She declares, "Thank you for always letting me do my thing."
"I can't imagine having it any other way."
January 30, 2023 | Henry
Elizabeth left about an hour ago, leaving Henry and Willow behind as he cooked some eggs for himself before getting dressed for the day. He takes the baby to her bedroom, laying her down on her changing table and, first, replaces her diaper, then picks out a navy blue dress for her, complete with some white leggings to keep her nice and warm on this chilly January day. He dresses her in the outfit and picks her up, holding her there and cooing at her, "Oh, you're so pretty today."
She smiles in response to his silliness, letting out little squeaks that he knows from experience will soon turn into laughs. Sometimes he couldn't believe how fast she was already growing up, and although he's happy she's healthy, he also wants her to stay this little forever and skip the teenage drama years.
He gets her into her car seat and straps her in, feeling a bit silly to go through all this trouble just to carry her down to the Oval Office. "You'll be carried in style at least…" he mumbles as he finishes the last latch. She's still full of herself, getting a kick out of her dad talking and making all those noises for her.
Before he walks through the White House, he throws a blanket over her car seat so that no one, hopefully, would stop him and ask to see her. They've gone out only a few times since Willow was born, and each time they've done this there was at least one person on the staff who felt the urge to ask. Each time, though, they always politely declined. They felt it was better to not have strangers around her yet, letting her get stronger before they introduced her to other people. But today, that was about to change. She was about to spend her first day as the First Daughter.
He makes it to the Oval Office and sees Elizabeth all annoyed on the couch, "I missed this part so much." Sarcasm drips from her voice while a woman is doing her makeup. There are a crew of about four people here for today's broadcast, including a camera and microphones, and Elizabeth's own team is standing around nearby.
The car seat felt pretty heavy, so he sets it down next to the couch and sits beside Elizabeth. "Did Conrad ever have to do all this?"
She laughs, "Funny enough, I asked him once if he did, and he said they made him put foundation on a few times because, and I quote, 'They told me I looked like death on television screens.'"
A few more moments pass and Elizabeth's makeup woman has left, and the cameras are all in place as well as all the crew members, and Vice President Morejon is now standing beside Elizabeth's desk. When she gets up, Henry watches her walk away toward Morejon, shaking his hand first as cameras clicked pictures of the two of them. "Thanks for taking the job for a while, but I'll take it back from here." She says.
Henry's amazed when he sees Morejon lean in for a hug, "We're glad to have you back, Madam President." He says, and Henry stands up and gets Willow from her car seat to go take his own spot beside Elizabeth's desk, opposite of Morejon.
"We're live in five, four, three…" the man's hands were counting down, now, and everyone waited patiently in their spots. Elizabeth was standing behind the desk, the chair was moved out of the shot, and Henry stood on her right side with Willow in his arm. Morejon stood on the left, his hands clenched behind his back so that he stood straighter. Between Morejon and Elizabeth, though, stood a young red-headed woman with a sleeping baby—just over a year old—and she looked like she was going to pass out from nerves.
Henry knows her as Kayla Hale, and now the rest of the world is about to be introduced to Kayla and Kelsey's story through the historic signing of the PEACE Act, one of the quickest bills ever to be signed into legislation by Congress. The official documents were laying on the desk, just in front of Elizabeth, and the pen not far from her reach.
"Good morning fellow Americans," Elizabeth begins, giving one of the most genuine smiles Henry has ever seen from her while in any political office. "I am excited today to be back in office, once again speaking as the President of the United States." She pauses, and Henry notices the excitement in her tone, making him smile a little more than he probably should have. "As you can see, the Oval Office has been taken over by babies." She states, leaning back to give a look to both of the babies in the room, "Although that sounds like a lot of fun, just wait until both of them wake up." She pauses, giving a little smile before moving on, "This young woman to my left is Kayla Hale, a twenty-one year old from Dallas, Texas, with her child Hudson." She begins telling the story of Kelsey Hale and how her postpartum depression eventually took her life, then moves on to praise Congress for coming together so quickly on this matter and immediately singing it into action.
"I am proud of how the U.S. Government came together for this pressing issue in our country, and incredibly happy to announce the official enacting of the PEACE Act." She says, pulling the sheet of paper closer to her to sign it, then pushing it away once the pen has inked the paper.
Henry looks over at his wife as she continues speaking, shifting Willow in his arm since she felt like she was sliding through, and felt an immense sense of pride over her. How was he so lucky to have chosen her of all people? He couldn't imagine his life without her—without any of this, now, but especially without her.
Watching her use her power for something good—to promote awareness around these changes that happen to your body and mind—it made him want to smother her in kisses. Of course, now wasn't the time, but he would probably do so later.
Elizabeth is wrapping up the speech, "Women experience many body changes all throughout pregnancy, but we cannot forget the mind changes, too. Thank you, everyone, for allowing me to be your president, and I'm just going to add: it sure feels good to be back."