A/N: I think I can honestly say this is the hardest thing I have ever written... and maybe one of the most beautiful revelations I've ever had as I wrote. Get some Kleenex, you're gonna need it. If you like, you should look up the song Let Her Go by Passenger, and listen to it as if you are a mother giving up a child... Heartbreaking.
Anyway,
Enjoy!
Meredith's chest tightens unearthing this memory. It feels like she's literally shovelling the dirt out of the ground herself. Her breaths come fast, her heart drums a heavy beat against her sternum. She's buried it so deep, digging it up will exhaust her. But maybe it's time. Maybe it will be okay. Maybe it will mean something different, she thinks, rubbing her still-flat abdomen. It has to mean something different this time, because she really wants a different outcome. A better one.
"But you got to the hospital?" Derek asks. He's still close, his arm circles her shoulders, his chest is firm against her back and his lips brush against her ear. She traces the lines of his right palm to calm herself. She's about to tell the most painful thing she has ever, ever done.
And the most beautiful.
"We tried to call for an ambulance, but there wasn't any signal. So we climbed out of the ditch. Turns out we were only a couple blocks away from Mass. Gen. Seemed futile to call an ambulance in a snowstorm, so we started walking. Until… until I couldn't. I told Sadie to call my mom."
"Your mom? Really?"
"I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't walk, the baby was coming fast."
"But what could your mother do?"
Meredith shakes her head. "I don't know, I knew she'd be freaking mad at me, but she wouldn't let me die or anything. Before I knew it, there was a bunch of people and a stretcher…"
She'd been on her knees as contractions rolled through her. Suddenly people were all around, talking to her, asking questions, taking her vitals. She remembers being lifted onto a stretcher and carried through the snow, Sadie lurking somewhere in the mix, looking just as confused as she felt.
"Incredible," Derek whispers.
Meredith shudders. Incredible isn't even half the story. The terror creeps up on her now. "The next thing I knew, I was in the ER." She bites her lip. Briefly, she considers glossing over the rest of the story: 'And then my mom came and I had the baby and I signed it over and skipped home, la la la la la, and everything went back to normal.'
"Meredith?"
"Huh?"
Derek gazes softly at her. He runs a hand just over the top of her forehead, parting wayward blonde strands. His fingers feel cool on her clammy skin, and now all she wants to do is curl away from him and cover herself with the blanket. She doesn't deserve his goodness, his trust, his love.
"It's okay," his thumb rubs soothingly over her forehead. "You don't have to…"
But the memories have already been unearthed. Burying them without voicing them isn't something she can do again. She has to try and trust him.
"My mom called down to the ER. She's the one that sent the stretcher to get me."
"So she was there?"
Meredith nods, "I'm sure she didn't want to be, but yeah."
"You must've been relieved."
"I…" Meredith swallows. Her mother's presence at the time wasn't relieving. But, terrified as she was, she took whatever comfort her mother offered. "It was complicated."
xxx
The ER at Mass. Gen. on the day of a snowstorm in Boston is not the place anyone wants to be. Loud and chaotic, it's crowded with equipment and gurneys and people. So many people, Meredith thinks randomly between contractions. "Sadie?" she calls out, searching the many faces of the people around her who are hooking up leads and monitors, pulling off her boots, her coat, her pants and underwear.
She sees a flash of blonde in the midst. "I'm here Mere, I'm–"
A new face appears in front of her. A tall woman with sandy hair and freckles wearing a white coat that separates her from the rest of the crowd. "Hi, I'm Dr. Parsons, I'm the on-call OB/GYN. I'm just going to take a look, Meredith, all right? See how your labour is progressing. I understand your contractions are coming in fast."
"Yeah, I guess," Meredith gasps. How would she know? Someone pokes her for an IV drip. Shit, it's really happening. She's having this baby. Now. Her chest squeezes with anxiety until she feels a hand on her knee. Oh, there's Sadie.
"Okay," Dr Parsons leans in between her parted legs as a drape is pulled over. Meredith can feel her gloved hands gently pushing her thighs apart. "Let's see… Oh."
"Oh my God, is that a foot?" Sadie blurts, looking mortified and fascinated all at once.
"A foot?" Meredith repeats. Another contraction bulldozes through her, and she pants, clutching her belly in pain. It can't be a foot. That's not what the book says. "You mean a head. It's the head, right?"
The look on Sadie's face tells her it's definitely a foot.
"N-no. It can't… I…" Panic rises. How the hell did that happen? A foot? A foot isn't good. A foot means the baby is breech, and that means complications. Possibly surgery. Possibly…
She can't do this. Everything turns blurry and swims around her. She's dizzy and nauseous and sweaty and the damn contraction won't freaking stop.
"Meredith? Meredith, are you with me?" Dr. Parson's head swims in front of her eyes. She can't breathe. She can't– Meredith's hand goes to her chest, seeking relief. "Okay, let's get her some oxygen." A plastic mask is placed over her mouth, offering her life-giving air, just in time too.
"What's going on? I demand to see my daughter!"
Crap.
"Sorry, you are?"
"I'm Dr. Grey. I'm the one who called down." Nurses and orderlies are pushed aside, and her mother's face looms over her, replacing Sadie. "Meredith. What the hell were you doing? Stumbling around downtown in a snowstorm! Why weren't you inside?"
"Mom?" Meredith mumbles under the oxygen mask. Someone– a tech or a nurse pulls up her shirt and squirts cold jelly on her exposed skin. She tries to cover herself as best she can, but there's really no point under her mother's stern gaze. Thoroughly shamed, Meredith's gaze shifts to Dr. Parsons, and she groans. "Drugs. Can I get drugs?"
"Okay Meredith, listen carefully." Dr. Parsons stands closer to get her attention. "Your baby is presenting foot first. It's breech and very dangerous."
"Why aren't you prepping her for a C-section?" Her mother asks, gripping Meredith's hand. Meredith stares at it in shock for a second. Her mother is holding her hand. She almost cries at the contact before another contraction takes her thoughts away. She comes back, panting, sweating. Her back aches. And her mother is still clutching her hand while arguing with the doctor.
"Unfortunately the baby is too far down the birth canal for a C-section to be effective. The labour is progressing very quickly."
"Unbelievable!"
Dr. Parsons holds her ground, however. "We're going to have to deliver vaginally. There are a few techniques I will use to get the baby out."
"I c-can get an epidural, right?" Meredith whimpers. "I need– it hurts."
"An epidural will only slow labour, and we need to deliver quickly. I'm sorry."
"No-o I want … I need– Mom?"
Her mother pushes sweaty bangs off her forehead, and Meredith swallows. "It's too late," she says.
"Okay," Dr. Parsons says, "I need you to push now, Meredith. On your next contraction, push at the same time."
"Push?" It's true what they say though. She does feel this … urge.
"Yes, during your contraction, got it?"
"O-okay."
Before the next contraction hits, Meredith looks around for her friend who'd been there since the start, but Sadie is gone. It's just her and her mother, and oodles and oodles of people staring at the stupid pregnant girl giving birth in a snowstorm.
"Push, Meredith."
She does. It actually feels good to be doing something throughout this process. She stops to catch her breath. The doctor is doing something to the baby, she doesn't know what, but it's uncomfortable. She closes her eyes.
"Push again."
She pushes until she's a panting, sweaty mess. Long agonizing minutes are bookended with short reprieving breaks. The chaos around her fades as her body and mind concentrate its energy on one main task: pushing.
"Okay, we've got both legs out now," Dr. Parsons says. "Keep pushing. You can do it."
Everything below her belly button is on fire, like she's done a thousand crunches while running up a mountain. Her mother is speaking to the doctor, she's vaguely aware of beeping in the background. Nurses touch her and prop up her body as she catches her breath. "Is the baby–"
"The baby is halfway out." Halfway? Shouldn't it be more? She feels like it's been forever.
"Push, Meredith," her mother says when her stomach ripples with another contraction.
Meredith struggles to sit up in the bed to push, push, push, as each contraction builds and peaks. Her arms shake like Jello, she's soaked with sweat and fluid. She just wants… she wants it to be over, so she pushes.
And pushes.
And–
"Ahhhh!" she screams. Good God, what's that? Her vagina feels like it's ripping in half.
"Whoah, whoa, okay, don't push." Dr. Parsons leans forward over her parted legs.
"What?" She gasps, collapsing back on the bed. The urge to push is strong, and she struggles hard to resist it.
"What is it?" Ellis also asks, offering Meredith the oxygen mask.
She bats it away, trying to focus. What's wrong? Something must be wrong. Dr. Parsons' fingers press against her cervix.
"We're at the shoulders now," Dr. Parsons explains. "We're just trying to rotate. Okay, Meredith, push when you're ready."
She's not ready. Her pelvis hurts like something is drilling through, her lower back throbs like someone smashed it with a hammer. A damn exorcism. But she finds strength to push again. And again. And again.
And then the pressure and pain disappears. The tension in the room drops as everyone releases the collective breath they've been holding. Something happened. What?
Meredith slumps back, woozy and exhausted. "What happened?" she asks. "Do I still need to push?"
"Baby's out!" Dr. Parson says.
She's not quite sure she heard. "What?"
No one answers, and it scares the crap out of her. There's a lot of commotion in front of her, and she can't track it. Oh God, is it dead? "Is it … Mom? Is the baby… is it okay?"
"They're working on her," she says, eyes sharply watching every movement, tracking every action of the nurses and doctors.
"Her?" The knowledge causes her lips to tremble and her eyes to water with tears. She doesn't know why. Would she feel any different if it were a boy? Probably not.
Her mother tightens her grip on her hand. Ellis is actually holding her hand. She'd been holding her hand this whole time. "Yes, it's a girl."
It's a girl. Meredith lets out a sob.
"Cutting the cord," someone says.
Meredith stares ahead at the mob of people between her legs. Why is it so quiet? What's wrong? Something must be wrong. She strains to look, desperately needing to see the baby.
"I wanna see her," she mumbles.
"The baby's struggling to breathe, let's get some supplemental oxygen in here." Dr. Parsons orders.
"Please," she says. "I need to-" She can't explain it. She never thought she'd want to see the baby after it was born, but… some crazy instinct is taking over. She has to make sure she's okay. She struggles on the soaked sheets, letting go of her mother's hand to try and sit up again, but a nurse pushes her down.
"You'll see her in a minute, but we need to deliver the placenta."
The what?
No. No more pushing. No more touching. Her mother steps away from the bed, watching everything intensely. Meredith thinks she can hear a squawk or something. Her baby. Again, she struggles, but the nurses push her shoulders down, shushing her. They press down on her abdomen as her uterus continues contracting to expel the placenta. Meredith flops back, tired and unable to fight against them. She shakes and shivers, suddenly and acutely alone amongst a swarm of people, bereft of her baby and her mother's touch. Salty tears run down her face though she doesn't cry. Crying is for the weak, her mother would say. And then the energy in the room shifts. She hears happy sounds from the crowd. A long demanding cry fills the room.
She's okay.
A nurse comes to her bedside with a white bundle.
"Is that…"
"Yes, here's your baby. Hello mama."
Her baby.
Mama.
She reaches and touches the tiny little little baby face is scrunched and red… eyes squished closed, little lips pouting as tiny fingers wrap around her index finger. How is she so small? She felt so big inside her.
And then the bundle is in her arms. "Oh." Staring at the little face, the last nine months are forgotten, the pain and trauma completely insignificant compared to this life she's holding. "I…" Tears roll down her flushed cheeks, and her mouth quivers. She had a baby. And the baby's alive. Breathing. "You're okay," she manages to choke out. "You're gonna be okay." She strokes the newborn's cheek. The skin is impossibly soft, undamaged by time and the elements.
"Meredith."
She ignores her mother. Something is happening inside her. Something is changing, and she doesn't want to let it go. All she wants to do is stare at this amazing being that came out of her and try to capture this feeling to keep forever in her heart. The baby squirms and fusses and Meredith adjusts her hold on her. "Shh, shh." she says.
"Meredith, that's enough." Her mother touches her shoulder.
"But–"
"It still needs treatment."
"No." She leans away, still staring at the baby's face. Maybe… Maybe…
"Meredith, it's hormones. You need to let her go."
"Another minute. It's okay, I'll be okay." She just wants the baby to see her. To know her. To know she didn't mean… she doesn't mean to–
"No, you won't. Don't you understand? This is not okay. You can't get attached. The sooner you get over it, the better."
"Dr. Grey–" a nurse interrupts.
"Oh here, I'll do it."
Suddenly the bundle is lifted from her arms. Meredith tries to pull her back, but she's too weak. "Mom. Mom, don't!"
The baby is gone from her arms, swept away by her mother. "Take her to the NICU. The baby is being adopted. I've already called the family. They should be here by now."
"Please," she begs. "I want to see her. Just a few more minutes," she continues to track the baby as Ellis hands her to a nurse.
"Meredith," her mother takes both her hands in her own. "This is the right thing to do. The sooner you get it into your head the better. Trust me."
But Meredith doesn't. She pulls her hands away. "Get out."
"Meredith–"
"Get out!" She screams. How could she? How dare she? Why? "Get her out of here! Somebody get her the fuck out of here!"
Her mother's expression turns to stone, but she simply raises a brow, saying nothing as she turns around and leaves. Everyone else in the room freezes at her uproar
"What? What are you all staring at?" she snaps. "Do your jobs!"
Everyone moves again. Cleaning her up, cleaning up the room. Taking her vitals. Filling out paperwork. Meredith closes her eyes, exhausted and in all kinds of pain.
"Meredith," one of the nurses takes her hand. "We have a room for you upstairs. We're going to take you up. Do you need anything?"
What she needs– that intangible surge of… acceptance? Grace? Something– she'll never get again. "Water? I'm really thirsty," she says.
xxx
"I'm so sorry, Meredith. I'm so, so sorry."
Meredith gasps. The memories still swirl messily, churning up long forgotten and buried feelings of shame and inadequacy, fear and pain… and awe. Damn hormones are making her cry. She shudders, trying to hold the sobs in, but she can't and it all comes out. "I… I…" she feels just as terrible about it today as she did back then.
Derek sighs. He squeezes her tightly to himself as she soaks the crook of his neck with her tears.
"You must've been heartbroken," he says finally. "I can't imagine."
Heartbroken? She was shattered.
"I thought … . For a few minutes I thought maybe, maybe I could raise her. Maybe it would be okay. But my mother … she– it was hell. I didn't even … I didn't even say goodbye."
xxx
"What the hell happened?" Her mother reams her out several hours later. "I get a call from some slurring idiot in the middle of the night, saying you're in labour a block away from the hospital! You almost had that baby on the pavement! And a breech at that! You do know that there are things they can do to prevent that from happening. Did you not go to your appointments? What did the ultrasound show at 32 weeks? God, you are so foolish!"
"I know. I know, I was stupid." Meredith sobs. "I just couldn't…"
She can't explain it. Her last appointment was not spectacular. The doctor did her job, but Meredith zoned out halfway through, fighting off waves of flashbacks, shame, and insecurity. Unable to really understand the importance of the OB's instructions.
"I just can't believe it. This whole thing. How could you possibly–"
She can't listen anymore. Despite the pain, Meredith pushes her way out of bed.
"Where are you going?"
"Away from you," she says, stumbling forward. Her IV pole jerks. She grabs it, using it to help her balance. Moving any part of her body hurts like hell, but she makes her way out of her room, because her mother's berating is far worse than any physical pain. She stops for a minute, getting her bearings, then turns left and wobbles onward without much thought, except to get as far away as she can.
She turns a corner, and there's the nursery. Crap, she wasn't expecting that. Unable to turn away, she shuffles ahead, stopping at the window. 'Hormones,' her mother's voice says in her head as she searches the room.
Is her baby in there? She doesn't even have a name. Or does she now? Did they name her already? They couldn't have, right? She hadn't signed the papers yet. Meredith scans the rows, one baby at time, her heart rushing each time her gaze lands on one. Then she hears voices. Just entering the room with a pink bundle is Rachel and Allan. They don't see her, their attention is on the newborn.
Meredith watches how carefully Rachel holds her. She notices Allan's proud wide smile; hears their soft coos to the baby, and her heart and all her insides shatter into a thousand tiny pieces. Who is she kidding? She's a screw-up, an idiot who can't even take care of herself. How can she take care of a baby? Raise a kid? She's stupid for even entertaining the thought. She wipes her eyes. When she looks up, her gaze meets Rachel's.
She spins around, mentally scooping up all the shards she's left on the floor. Her baby deserves someone better than her, someone as awesome as Rachel, and her baby deserves a father.
When she returns to her room, the adoption counselor is waiting outside by the door. Ellis is dozing in a chair, her head propped up with one hand and the papers on her lap. Meredith shuffles into the room, a tired snivelling mess. She yanks the papers off with a snap, startling her. Her mother watches warily as Meredith snatches up the pen and scans the document, angrily signing and initialling at all the X's, leaving it tear-stained and smudged.
"There. Done," she chokes. "It's done."
The shattered pieces of her heart shatter some more, turning into dust, and she collapses onto the bed, completely empty and broken.
xxx
"It was done," Meredith finishes. Her face is wet, eyes raw from crying. She scoots across the bed, flinging the covers off.
"Where are you going?" Derek asks, but she doesn't answer. She strides out the door to Zola's room and scoops up her daughter. She has to see her. Hold her. Kiss her. She presses her lips against Zola's cheek, her eye, her hair. Zola murmurs, nestling into her as Meredith carries her to bed with Derek.
It's awkward, but she manages to move back into bed beside Derek with her toddler still sleeping on her chest. She runs her fingers through Zola's nappy hair and rubs her back, soothing them both. Derek sidles up and gives them each a kiss too.
Meredith stares at Zola's sweet face. "Seeing her… My baby… seeing her sweet little face for even just a second… It's like all the trauma went away. It was gone… I…" Her lips turned down slightly. "I loved her. I just… I didn't know it until I signed those papers. I didn't know I loved her until she was gone."
"Mere-"
"And," she sniffs again. Damn hormones– "A newborn doesn't know anything, doesn't understand feelings… they're barely formed, barely functional, completely dependent and unable to reciprocate anything. But I felt…" She stares at Zola, her baby. That she chose. That she stole. Zola, who stole her heart. She stares at her and is back in that moment in the ER when that big white bundle landed in her arms, when that little hand grasped her finger. "It's silly and childish and stupid, I know, but–" she felt something. Something huge and totally incomprehensible at the time, but now, looking at Zola, she suddenly gets it. "I felt–"
"You felt loved." Derek says.
Loved for the first time.
"Yeah."
A/N: Whew! Okay, wow... I'm just sapped. Please, please review! A few words from you would be amazing, thanks so, so much!