*Thank-you for the reviews on the last chapter they were greatly appreciated thank-you all so much*
"Thanks for coming today," I say to Dean and Mark as we walk into the nursery I had done for Kekoa. The nursery walls are painted a light spring green with a classic Winnie The Pooh theme that Willow and I both agreed on because she's so into reading she said there is no better theme than to use a classic character from a classic book. I didn't even have time to have the wooden letters of his name painted and put onto the wall before he was taken from us. The dresser that held his tiny gender neutral clothes was decorated with a piggy bank and a picture of his family holding his ultrasound picture. Shelves were hanging on the wall decorated with his ultrasound picture, some classic books that Willow had as a child and stuffed animals. Green and yellow blankets were folded neatly in the drawers.
"You did all this?" asks Dean as we start to open the drawers.
"Yes," I say. "I wanted it to be special. Willow and I agreed that we would paint it green and make it a Classic Pooh theme."
"Winnie the Pooh was one of Willow's favorite childhood characters," says Mark with a smile. "I read this to her all the time," he says pulling the Classic Pooh book from the shelf. "I'm pretty sure she knew these stories by heart," he says with a smile.
"She told me that was her favorite book," I smile. "She was excited to read it to the baby."
"I'm not surprised," he says putting it back on the shelf. "How is she doing?" he asks.
"The same as she was last week. She hasn't really left the bedroom and she has barely eaten," I say. "She's hurting and I don't know how to make her stop. I want to take her pain away but I can't."
"It's going to take some time," he says. "Just be patient she's grieving."
"I know and I want to take everything down in the nursery before she finally ventures out of the bedroom. I don't want her to stumble across this room and get sad all over again," I say feeling the sadness of what will never be. I wanted to bring Kekoa home to this nursery, place him in his crib with my childhood teddy bear and one of the blankets Willow had when she was a baby. I think of everything that will never be, watching him grow up, playing with him out in the yard, playing with him in his room. It will never happen because his life was too short. I fight back the tears forming in my eyes and swallow the lump in my throat.
"So what are you going to do with everything?" asks Dean.
"The clothes I'm going to donate to a shelter because it is easier that way. Everything else; the blankets, stuffed animals, books and bedding will be packed away. The crib will be taken apart and everything else will go into the storage room because hopefully we will have another baby in the future as long as Willow wants to have a baby. I hope she does but if not I am okay with that too but I'm going to keep some of this stuff just in case."
"I see," says Dean. "How are you feeling? I know this is as hard on you as it is on Willow?" he asks as we start to pull clothes out of the drawers while Mark works on taking the crib bedding off.
"I know he's gone but I have trouble believing and accepting that he is truly gone, Dean. I don't want to think it's real but I know that it is. I keep waiting to wake up from this terrible nightmare but every day I'm still in it."
"I'm sorry, Man," he says. "If there's anything I can do please don't hesitate to let me know."
"Thanks," I say.
"How is Alani dealing with all this?" asks Mark.
"She's confused," I answer. "I don't think she fully understands what happened or why she doesn't have her baby brother anymore. She said she misses him and she wishes he was here but doesn't understand why she never got to hold him or meet him."
"I hope you all can get through this," he says. "Did you set up an appointment to see a therapist yet?"
"Willow won't go to see anyone, she's not talking to anyone about it. She doesn't do much anymore but lay in bed holding onto his blanket and an ultrasound picture. She cries and she cries. Sometimes she stops but she can cry forever. She's distancing herself from me and not only me but everyone. She wants to be left alone. She doesn't get out of bed except to use the bathroom and maybe take a shower but mostly she just lays in bed all day and cries. It breaks my heart seeing her in so much pain. I don't know what to do for her. I understand her pain and I know what it feels like but if I could take away her hurt I would do that. I want to do that but there's no way that I can possibly do that as much as I want to."
"It's going to take some time for her to heal from this," says Mark. "I have never seen her like this," he says. "I have never seen her so depressed and hurt. I wish I could take it away too, Joe. Neither of you deserved this. Do you think she's blaming herself?" he asks.
"I don't know. She hasn't said a word to me about it," I say. "I could see why she would blame herself but I hope not. It was no one's fault and if it was it was my fault," I say. "I was driving the car that caused her to deliver him so soon."
"Joe, it is no one's fault," says Dean. "You are not at fault here no one is to blame. Everything happens for a reason. Just because you were in an accident which caused his birth doesn't mean that if she carried him to full term that he would have made it either. He had a hole in his heart, Joe. Most holes don't close on their own and require surgery. He would have needed surgery regardless. You and Willow can't blame yourselves."
"What if she blames me?" I ask. "She has every right to blame me."
"Stop," says Mark, "neither of you are to blame these things happen in life and we don't know why. We rarely ever understand why things happen the way they do and when they do. We just have to have faith and trust to believe that there is a reason for whatever happens in life. I know it's hard to understand why God took Koa at such a young age and the way he did but that isn't for us to know. He has a reason for everything. Maybe Koa was sicker than we all believed and to save him from the pain of being sick all the time he took him to Heaven to take away his sickness and his pain. We don't know what we do know is that he's an angel baby now and he is watching over all of us. One day we will all see him again but right now he's in our hearts. You and Willow need to come together, grieve together and get through this together. If you can't do that then it's going to break you. I don't want to see your marriage fall apart because I know you two love each other. You two love each other a lot so use your love to get through this together. I know it's hard and Willow is pushing you away but don't let her. She can't push you away. She needs you now more than ever and while I would love to be there for her I'm not the man to do it anymore, Joe. It's you that can help her feel better. And it is you that can help her get through this because you two are going through this together. Only you can help her right now, Joe and then you two need to go see a therapist together to talk about it with them and they can give you ways to cope as a couple and individually."
"I know," I say. "I'm trying."
"Keep trying," he says as we start packing up the things that were to belong to my son. It breaks my heart taking them out of the drawer and packing everything away. To see the bedding Willow and I picked out together being packed into a box and the crib I put together being taken down tears me apart. It all reminds me of what will never be and the life cut short, way too short. Tears burn my eyes as we carry everything to the storage room and the clothes out to my car. I nearly cry donating the unworn baby clothes to a local shelter.
When I get home I walk into my office and switch on my computer. I cancel all of our registries before I make Willow something to eat. I'm happy she hasn't been on the internet in days because the word has gotten out about our loss and some people have been negative about it because they hate me because of who I am on the TV they don't realize I am a real person that has feelings especially when it comes to our loss while others have offered their support and sent messages of encouragement, condolences and love. The house has filled up with flowers and sympathy cards none of which Willow has touched. I turned her cellphone off because everyone kept calling and texting her. I understand they care about her but she wants her space from everyone including myself. It breaks my heart.
I take the sandwich that I made for Willow and a glass of milk I poured for her up to the bedroom on a tray. I walk into the bedroom to see her laying on the bed holding onto Koa's blue blanket that the hospital gave to us. I walk over to the bed. "I brought you something to eat."
"I'm not hungry," she says hoarsely through her tears. "I'm not hungry."
"Willow," I say sitting on the edge of the bed. "You have barely eaten in two weeks. You need to eat to gain your strength back."
"I can't eat," she says. "I don't want to eat."
"I know but just a couple bites?" I ask. "Just try to take a couple bites that's it so that you can get a little something in your system."
"I'm not hungry," she says.
"Come on, Willow, please you have to eat. For me?"
"Fine," she says sitting up. She puts the blue blanket down beside her and the ultrasound picture down on the bedside table. She hasn't combed her hair in days and her hair is knotted up in a bun on the top of her head, she's in a pair of my shorts and one of my t-shirts. Her green eyes are puffy and red from her crying. I give her the tray and sit back down to watch her eat. She takes a tiny bite out of the tomato and mayonnaise sandwich I made for her, it's her favorite. "Thank-you," she says chewing on her food.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" I ask. "Do you need anything?"
"Unless you can bring Koa back no," she says before taking another bite. "Is my dad still here?"
"No he went home. Kaia had a t-ball game to play. He said he will be back tomorrow if you want to see him."
"No," she says. "Just tell him I love him."
"Okay," I say. "So."
"What, Joe?" she snaps. "What?"
"Nothing," I say as I watch her eat. "You're beautiful."
"No I'm not," she says back. "I'm not beautiful. I'm a mess."
"A beautiful mess," I smile but she isn't amused. "So do you want to get out of the house maybe go to the park or go for a walk around the block?"
"No," she says.
"What about sitting out on the balcony to get some fresh air do you want to do that?"
"No," she says before taking a sip of her milk. "I'm not doing anything. I don't want to do anything. I just want to sit here."
"Come on, Willow," I say. "You have to get out."
"I don't want to, Joe. I want to be left alone."
"I'm not going to leave you alone," I say.
"Please," she says. "Just leave me alone."
"You know we have to talk about this," I say as she pushes her tray away.
"I'm done eating," she says. "Now leave me alone."
"No, Willow you and I need to talk. We need to talk to someone, you need to talk to someone. We need to talk to each other. We can't keep sweeping this under the rug and act like it's going to go away. I'm hurting too," I say. "I'm hurting too but we can't push each other away we need one another to get through this. We have to get through this."
"There's nothing to talk about," she says. "I don't want to talk, Joe. Please leave me alone."
"I love you, Willow," I say. "I really love you and I can't see you like this."
"Joe, please," she says with her eyes filling with tears. "Just go."
"Willow, I'm not leaving you. I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to be here for you. I need you just as much as you need me."
"What I need is for you to leave me alone, Joe," she snaps as the tears begin to fall from her eyes and her lip trembles. My heart breaks seeing her as she starts to cry. "Please, Joe get out," she says.
"Willow," I say with tears burning my eyes and that lump forming in my throat. "I love you please stop pushing me away. Let me be here for you. We need to get through this together, we need to talk to each other," I say.
"I love you too, Joe," she says through her soft cries. "But I can't. It's not real."
"Willow," I say. "Please."
"Joe," she says before she starts to sob. I go to her as she lies down on the bed, taking her into my arms holding her as she sobs. The pain and agony in her sobs make me breakdown into my own tears. She's hurting and there's nothing I can do to take away that pain. There's nothing I can do to bring our son back to her and make her happy. I feel helpless and lost. There's nothing I can do for her when I want to do everything for her. I hold her tight as she continues to sob, her tears soaking my shirt as she holds onto me tightly, pulling at my t-shirt. I feel her heaving chest against mine, the vibration from her sobbing. I hold her tightly against me as I breathe in her scent as we cry our pain and agony of loss together. There's nothing to say and nothing to do but to hold onto each other, supporting each other this way. My own chest heaves as I cry onto her shoulder, our wet shirts the proof of our pain and sorrow. I want to make it stop and I want it to be over but this is just the beginning.
*A/N: What do you think of Joe cleaning up the nursery already? Why do you think he was in such a rush to pack everything away? What do you think about Willow's condition and her state of mind right now? Would a therapist help her? Do you think she blames Joe? Is Mark right, do they need to use their love for one another to get through this? Do you think Willow will ever talk to Joe? Do you think Joe is masking his pain to be strong for Willow? Is Willow in bad shape? what did you think of Willow and Joe crying together is this only the beginning? Please review and thank-you for reading.