The Grief Train
Just a little note to say that there is extensive talk/mentioning of infant loss and bereavement below, which I know can be extremely upsetting. I have tried to write it as sensitively as possible and I sincerely hope that I have given the topics that I wrote about justice, but I know that that everyone's situation is different. If in doubt it may be best to skip this chapter.
She'd been lurking around the corner for over fifteen minutes. Feeling like some sort of creepy stalker instead of a kick-ass and respected surgeon she glanced left and right before quickly darting towards the door. Giving a cursory tap she slipped into the darkened room. There were several bouquets of flowers dotted on the available surfaces as well as a hoodie and pillow strewn on the couch that indicated that Jackson had been sleeping there.
The lights were set to low as the redhead dozed fitfully in the bed at the centre of the room. Amelia knew from Owen that April was still in severe pain and had sutures split since the birth, which was now being called 'a wild west' C-section by the impressed staff on the surgery floor. She was pale (even by her standards) and was propped up at an odd angle in order to allow fluid to drain from the incision sites. The small clear box containing the four day old baby was quiet, for now, and was lit up by the Bili Blanket that was being used to treat her mild case of jaundice. Amelia sat tentatively in a chair right beside the bed, trying to sort through all the emotions that had brought her to the room.
Several minutes later April began to move around in her sleep and to mutter unintelligible words. A nightmare, something that Amelia was much too familiar with. She let the other woman sleep until the dream obviously became too much as April cried out and flailed her arms.
"Easy there Kepner, come on." She gently gripped the other surgeons shoulder to keep her still and adjusted the pillows to raise her up into a semi-sitting position.
"Amelia?" April slowly blinked the sleep out of her eyes before looking frantically towards May. "Is she ok, what's wrong? Is it something nuero related? Oh my gosh, is Jackson all right?"
"Breathe Kepner", the neuro surgeon leant forwards and grabbed April's hand in a rare moment of physical affection. "I haven't looked at your baby but Robbins, Karev and Mer all seemed to be pleased with her so I'd say that she's doing just fine neurologically. I met Jackson earlier and he said that he was going out to buy you some more pyjamas and to get some essentials for the baby."
April stopped shaking and looked embarrassed, "Sorry, I guess the hormones and everything are setting me on edge." She reached up to sweep her hair from her sweaty forehead but let out a jagged gasp as the movement pulled sharply on her wound.
"Here, let me." Amelia moved in on fluid motion, grabbing bobbins and pins off the side table and gently lowering herself onto the bed beside April. She parted the hair and began to deftly form two Dutch braids. "Now, you're probably wondering why I'm here, talking to you alone?"
"Well yeah, kind of" April fiddled with her thumbs, feeling like she was five again and about to get a lecture from an adult.
"I figured that you might want to chat with someone who's also a member of 'the club'. You know, everyone's focusing on the fact that you have a daughter now but no ones probably talking about the fact that she isn't your first child."
It took April a few moments to reply as she tried to swallow down the lump that was permanently embedded in her throat, "Thanks, it's been rough. You know the usual, feeling happy but also feeling like you're about to split in two from the weight of missing him. You probably felt the same at the wedding." Her voice caught on the last word and April silently pressed her hand to her chest in an attempt to physically stifle the sobs that were threatening to make their way to the surface.
"Everyone else gives you bullshit platitudes about suffering and love and life lessons but we both know that it just sucks. It sucks that every day we have to see other people with their kids, it sucks that we had to pick out urns and make birth plans that were planning for the day that our child would die. Everyone else is going to coo over your daughter and tell you how lucky you are but you can rant to me. I get it, ok?" Amelia finished the braids and returned to the chair, pulling the box of tissues into her lap and gripping it fiercely, not yet allowing herself to cry.
"Ok….. Thanks Amelia. Oh God, I'm so angry that I could just scream! Samuel's dead and May's here and she's proof that we can have healthy, viable children but for some reason Samuel was created to die. And that makes me furious! And now everyone expects May to just erase it all, but she can't. She's helping me to heal but she can't bring my son back, that not her purpose. I'm selfish I want them both, I want to parent both of my children. I want the impossible and I'm never going to stop wanting it." She ranted while rolling her necklace between her thumb and forefinger. It was a flat, silver disk stamped with an S that she never took off, a vital representation of a piece of her soul that was forever lost.
"The grief train never stops", Amelia interjected suddenly. "I used to think that people would stop dying, that there was a certain amount of bad things that could happen. But that's not true, I saw my father get shot, I found my best friends body, my fiancé died, my son died and then my brother got run over by a semi. It never stops, but people expect you to move on seamlessly from it. You get a few months of grace and then it's back to normal."
April took a deep and shaky breath before allowing herself to speak, "I found my best friends body too. I turned a corner and there she was." A sudden spasm of sobs overtook the redhead and she gasped as if being held underwater. Amelia silently handed her several tissues while dabbing at her own eyes.
"I have this re-occurring dream", April continued, "I wake up in our bed and Jackson's beside me, asleep. He has his arm around me, his head is in the crook of my shoulder. There's a crib at the end of the bed and I just know that Samuel's in there and he's safe and he's not in pain. I know that my baby is there, sleeping where I lay him down. That is my one un-feasible, un-attainable dream nowadays, a situation that will never, ever occur. And then, my dream turns. Instead of Jackson beside me, it's Reed. Just like I how I found her, eyes wide open with a hole in the middle of her head and her blood flooding the bed. And then I'm standing in Derek's office again trying to explain that there's a shooter but I can't speak at all. And then I'm standing there looking down into Gary Clarke's gun again but this time he won't let me go because I've actually lived and been loved and he's forcing me to listen to how I'll be leaving the love of my life and my son. And all of a sudden I'm in a room with everybody that's died; Sloan and Lexie, Derek, Reed and Charles and I can hear Samuel screaming in pain but I can't find him. I have that dream nearly every night and I can't make it stop. But I still come to work and act like the chirpy trauma girl because no one wants to hear about how I feel like I'm getting stabbed every time I think about Samuel and how much I regret pushing the one person who did understand away."
Both women were now crying heavily as May continued to sleep, blissfully unaware of her mother's anguish. Neither spoke as five, then ten minutes passed. The pile of tissues on the bed grew as they both explored a grief long repressed.
"Feels cathartic in an awful way, doesn't it?" Amelia finally spoke as she mopped up the stray tears lingering on her cheek and swatted at her swollen eyes.
"Yeah, it kind of does," April chuckled darkly, hiccupping while making one final swipe at her nose with a sodden tissue. "Thank you, I know it's not easy for you to bring it all up to the surface again so I really do appreciate having someone to vent with Amelia. Oh and by the way, I'm glad that you make Owen so happy, he deserves it."
"Honestly Kepner, I'm glad that he makes me so happy. Speaking of Owen, he gets off in five so I think I'll go home with my husband."
Amelia seemed to be retreating back into her tough exterior but before the emotional side could finally disappear April grabbed her hand and gave it a firm squeeze. They shared a look and nodded to each other, both feeling just a little lighter after sharing a portion of their sorrow.