I found this one quite hard to write as it's quite close to home and does get quite upsetting towards the end. Reader discretion is advised
I attend Flynn's sessions every week for the next couple of months, keeping a promise I made to my mother. We spend week after week talking about Ana, I use the best part of a box of tissues in his office and come home with my entire face red raw. This week is no different.
"How are you coping with the children?" Flynn asks me as we near the 50 minute mark.
"Better than I thought," I say quietly. "I think they motivate me a little. I mean obviously I love them a lot. But they're her children too. I need to do a good job for her," I grab another tissue as fresh tears start to flow again. "I just want them to make her proud." I blow my nose loudly.
"And how are you finding the medication?" He asks me when I've composed myself. I pause for a while and look down. I know the propranolol is helping the heart racing but my mood is so low all the time. Sometimes, I don't even want to get out of bed. In fact nearly every day. When I am up, I wonder why. I spend hours at work staring into space. Ros seems to be picking up more each week.
"They're… I think helping my anxiety a bit," I say eventually. "I just… I feel like…"
Flynn waits looking at me. I could just tell him exactly what I'm thinking but it's so hard. I play with a thread on the arm of the chair, one of my legs shaking. I uncross them, setting both feet on the floor to stop the shaking. "Are you still struggling to sleep?" He asks me.
"Sometimes. Then I guess… sometimes I just can't stop sleeping," I mutter, still looking down. I let my hair fall in my face. I've had it cut short at the back like I always do but kept a lot of length in my fringe. It makes me feel safer. Which is the dumbest thing I could ever say.
"You struggle to get up?" He asks me, writing something down.
"Yeah. Or I take a nap in the day," I sigh. "Sometimes I'm sat at work just fantasising about being in my bed." And not in the way I used to at all. Literally just to go home and sleep. Shut out the whole world. Flynn gazes at me. I feel like he's seeing right inside me.
"Is your sex drive still high?" He asks. I admitted to him about a month ago I was masturbating. A lot. To the point I'd even been on line and bought a sex toy to masturbate with. Not that I'd told Flynn that part. It isn't happening now.
"No," I say quietly.
"Are you aroused at all?" He asks me as I shake my head. The thought of sex seems to nauseate me lately. Nothing arouses me at all.
"It could be the tablets," Flynn nods. "It isn't an unusual side effect. We could try changing to something else instead of the Celexa."
"Honestly, the lack of arousal isn't a problem. It's not like I'm off meeting women," I laugh hollowly. I can't imagine I'll ever get to the point where I want to be with someone again because no one will ever be her. Flynn looks in the DSM V again.
"Okay, we could try upping the Celexa," he nods.
"And that will make me sleep less?" I ask him hopefully, glad we're not on the subject of arousal anymore.
"Why do you think you're sleeping more, Christian?" He asks me as I shrug a little. I know exactly why I'm sleeping more. I don't want to talk about it. I haven't felt like this since I was a teenager. I had a flash of it when Ana left me that very first time. But not like this.
"I guess I'm tired with two small children," I lie casually. I do have two small children who are intense, but I basically have a whole team around me who can help me. I'm hardly up all night taking care of them. Hope does that. Or my mom. It's very rarely me.
"Do you think that's the reason?" He asks. We've gone over the hour again. Like we always do lately. My eyes flick over to the photo of him and his wife. I glance back into my lap, pulling my hair down again.
"Nope," I say after an age. I know he's not been booking other clients in after me lately. I'm not keeping anyone waiting. I'm probably the biggest shit show he's dealing with right now.
"What do you think it is?" He asks me.
"You're the doctor," I bite back, quickly this time. Petulantly.
Flynn looks at me, willing me to meet his eyes. I don't. I don't want to. I keep my head down, examining my fingers. "I think upping the Celexa might be a good idea, Christian. Let's try and get on top of the depression." I don't visibly respond to the word but it kicks me in the gut. Why do I find my own mental health so hard?
I give him a shrug. He's just watching me. "Fine," I say calmly. Well as calm as I can manage as the kick to the gut has quickly turned into somersaults and a quickening heart rate.
"We might try upping the propranolol as well. Celexa works best for anxiety at a lower dose," he explains. "So if we want to use it as antidepressant I suggest we try 40mg. Then keep the propranolol at the same dose with the option to take an extra 40-80mg when you expect to be facing an especially anxiety inducing situation."
"How will I know when I'm going to be anxious?" I ask bitterly. I mean all the fucking time. Just not as terrifying as before because the drugs are taking the edge off it. Flynn regards me for a few moments.
"Okay, why don't we try upping the daily dose to 80mg with the option to switch to as needed in the future?" He suggests.
"Sure," I mutter as he nods. "I need to go. My kids will be waiting for me at home," I add. He gives me a smile.
"Do you have plans for Christmas?" He asks me, genuine warmth and interest in my life.
"We're spending it with my mom and dad," I explain as he gives me a smile. "What about you?" I ask as I stand, putting on a thick North Face coat and zipping it up.
"We're having a Christmas just my wife and the boys," he nods as I swallow hard. I'm not jealous of his happiness. I just would love to have a family Christmas just Ana and our kids too. Not that there's anything wrong with my parents. In fact I'd be happy to spend it with anyone if Ana could be there too. Hell, I'd even have Elena Lincoln and her ex husband round if it meant Ana could be there.
Taylor drives me home and I'm excited to get back to Escala. Gail is sat with the children in the living room. Teddy is building something with Duplo while Rose sits in her bouncy chair. She is so close to sitting unaided now. She can hold her head up independently and laughs all the time. I wanted her to look like Ana so badly, and she does have her dark hair coming back through now, but I know she looks so much like me.
"Daddy," Teddy bounds over to me and I scoop him up, kissing his curly hair. I set him back down as my little girl bounces excitedly in her chair, squealing with glee as I unclip her buckles to lift her out. I place her on one hip now she can hold her little head up.
"Oh, Taylor," I call as I see him heading towards the staff quarters. He walks over to us, where Gail is standing. "Take a seat," I say sitting on the sofa with Rose in my lap, Teddy climbing up next to me to show me something he has built with Duplo. I think it is potentially supposed to be a house. I give him a smile as he passes it to me. Rose grabs at it and throws it giggling loudly. Teddy looks unimpressed.
"Sorry bud," I tell him as Taylor picks it up to pass it back to Teddy. The blocks have held together well at least. "So, this Christmas, Hope has asked if she can take a full two weeks to visit her parents in Connecticut. I mean I'm going to say yes because, family is important," I add, watching Teddy go and gather some more bricks to add to the structure. "I wondered what your plans are?"
"Christmas Day I'll probably spend with my sister. Other than that, not much," Gail gives me a smile.
"I have Sophie for Christmas Eve," Taylor explains as I give him a smile.
"That's awesome," I tell him. Taylor's ex wife can be such a bitch around the holidays. In the whole time he has worked for me, 8 years, we has had his daughter once for Christmas Day. It makes me feel awful for him. "Are you going to spend Christmas Day at Gail's sister's?" I ask.
"That depends on what you need," he says looking at me. Rose is babbling away in my lap. I watch her in genuine joy. I'm so glad we've bonded.
"I would like you to spend it as a family if that's what you would like to do," I say firmly and he gives me a kind smile. Gail looks delighted too, although it may just be as Teddy has presented her with a tree of four brown blocks with two green on top. She thanks him at once. "What I wondered is if the time around you could help me out with the kids a bit. While Hope is away and all."
"Yes of course we will," Gail says quickly.
"I mean I really will try and do the nights alone," I add for good measure. Let's hope the meds are working by then or I won't be doing anything and Gail and Taylor really will have their hands full. I squeeze my baby daughter.
"We can help you," Taylor reassures me as I nod.
"Can you put the paperwork through for Hope? And book her plane tickets for her. So she can fly first class and all?" I ask Taylor, standing with my daughter on my hip.
"Sir," he nods at once. I thank him before pulling out my phone to text Ray, inviting him to my parents for Christmas Eve where we will usually have a late lunch and watch movies. We've managed to talk since he blew up at me at my mom's house and he's been to see the kids a bunch of times. I am really struggling with Ana's mother however. I called her back in November, noting we had only had text conversations on the subject of Ana and occasionally asking about the grandchildren.
"Hi Carla, it's Christian," I say as she picks up.
"Hello, Christian. How are you?" She asks me. She sounds upbeat despite this is the first time we have spoken over the phone since the funeral. I rub my forehead, pacing my office.
"I'm okay," I say slowly, assuming we're not going to say how we actually feel. "How are you?"
"Oh we're good down here. Enjoying the last of the sunshine," she continues, ignoring the massive elephant in the room. I know she must be hurting but clearly like past me she's unable to express any feelings. That was a good time, when I didn't cry every five minutes.
"That's nice," I say slowly. "So I was calling about Teddy and Rose."
"Yes, I love the photos you sent over. They're getting so big," she sounds warm about her grandchildren.
"Yeah. So big. Um, I asked if you wanted to come visit them at some time. I mean in a few texts. So I just wondered…" Well this conversation is a lot of fun. Who knew I would be the better one at dealing with this?
"Oh I know, Christian. We've just been so busy and it's a lot of money to come to Seattle so…" she continues. She sounds awkward now. These are her grandchildren. Her own daughter's flesh and blood. Surely she wants to see them? Mind you, she never showed up for Ana either.
"Well I can pay for flights and hotels and whatever…" I'm so confused right now. Does she really not want to see them?
"Oh I don't know how Bob will be with the flight," she continues as I roll my eyes at no once in particular. I lean against my desk, putting my phone on loudspeaker and gazing at it in disbelief. Bob broke his foot over three years ago. I'm not aware he's sustained any more injuries.
"Okay," I say, trying to keep exasperation from my voice. I would like the children to have a relationship with all their grandparents. I know for sure it is what Ana would want. "Well maybe we could fly down and see you?" Because nothing sounds more enjoyable than a 4 hour flight with a three month old baby.
"That sounds perfect," she says brightly. She's that lazy? "But in the New Year maybe?" Fuck me, it's November. Deciding this is as far as I will get, I say we'll firm up details nearer the time and leave her to get on with whatever she's so busy with, because it sure as hell doesn't sound like grieving her daughter. Everyone grieves in different ways, my mom's voice comes back to me and I try and hold my judgement.
Taylor has Sophie by December 23 and we decide to head to the mall to see Santa with all three children. Gail joins us. Rose is in a pram, which Sophie is excitedly pushing. She's 9 years old now and is obsessed with babies. She loved Ted when he was small and now she has a new little project. I am holding Teddy's hand as we walk towards the grotto.
This is the first year Teddy has had any concept of what Christmas is and is truly getting excited. I've never been a fan of Christmas but I know Ana was and I'm heartbroken that she's not here watching this. He is pointing out all the decorations and lights as we walk.
"Please may I hold her?" Sophie asks me as we join the line at the grotto. Rose is awake and gazing around.
"Of course," I say reaching in the pram. Rose is wrapped up warm, in a romper with a little jacket over the top and a white bobble hat. Teddy has one the same one in blue. Taylor quickly takes Teddy's hand as I release him to get Rose out. I carefully pass the baby to Sophie. This is the first time she has met her as Taylor has kept Sophie away, I think not to overwhelm me.
"She's so pretty," she tells me as I smile down at her. Ana was convinced Sophie is scared of me which makes me feel a little sad now. As my children grow up I realise I would never want them to feel that way so I have made a point of making a huge effort today.
"She really is," I agree. She's holding my little girl close. Rose doesn't need head support anymore and Sophie clearly has her securely. I'm impressed. "You're a bit of a pro with her."
"My mom just had another baby," she explains as I nod. Taylor stiffens beside me but says nothing.
"You happy about that?" I ask her as she bounces Rose a little. My daughter is beaming at her.
"Yes, I think so. It's a boy so I'm still the only girl," she explains as I give her a smile.
"That's cool. My brother was not happy when my parents had me," I continue. Elliott was not impressed when I was brought home, especially as my terrified little self didn't want to play with him or even speak with him. Not that I'm planning on going into details with Sophie.
"Maybe boys are different," she tells me as I nod, pushing the pram forward a little as the line moves up.
"Do you know what Santa is bringing you?" I ask her as Taylor gives our booking details to an elf.
"I hope I'm getting clothes mostly," she explains. Wow, they grow up this fast now? Teddy is fast approaching 3. I hope he will want toys for a whole lot longer yet. I let Sophie get her photo with Santa first before heading over with Teddy and Rose.
"So what's your name?" Santa asks Teddy who looks up him with those big blue eyes.
"Teddy," he says with a grin.
"Now have you written to me?" Santa asks him as Teddy nods. Has he? When? Maybe he did it with Hope or at daycare? We haven't done it. "Now remind me what you asked for."
"A bike," he beams, showing off all his teeth. Now this I did know thankfully. He has mentioned it on about 30 occasions in the last week alone.
"Well I'll have to see what I can do. Now I have a little gift for you now," he explains, passing Teddy a present.
"What do we say Ted?" I ask him as he gazes up at me before back to Santa.
"Thank you, Santa," he grins. We take a picture with Santa and I buy three copies, getting one framed right away. I slide this one inside my jacket pocket, putting the others in the bottom of the pram.
By Christmas Eve morning we are at my parents' home in Belle Vue, Teddy very much in the festive spirit. I'm tired as always. I have something I need to do though. I ask my mom to watch the kids before heading to my Q5 that I arrived here in and heading back towards Seattle. My heart is thumping as I park the car and get out slowly.
I walk between the headstones. The grass is crisp and frosty. I'm wrapped up warm in my North Face coat. I have a bouquet of a dozen red roses in one hand. My feet feel heavy as I reach the plot. It's away from the others, spacious. I take a deep breath as I read her name on the headstone and quietly sit down.
"Happy Christmas, Ana," I whisper as I sit where I know she rests. My fingers slowly trace the letters of her name on the stone. "I came today because I know you'd want me to be with the children on Christmas morning," I explain slowly. My eyes are prickling with tears. My trousers are wet from the frosty grass.
I place the roses very carefully at the foot of the headstone. "I brought you these, so you know I still love you," I continue slowly, brushing a tear with a finger. My thumb moves over the A again as I take a deep steadying breath. "I really miss you," I mumble to her. The cold in the air is sticking to my hair, making it go flatter.
"I took Teddy and Rose to see Santa yesterday," I continue as I reach in my jacket pocket to remove the framed photo. "I thought you would like to see," I place the photo next to the flowers. All three of us are in it with Santa. I have Teddy on my knee, Rose cradled against me as we all smile for the camera. "So I brought you this to keep," I add quietly. I tell Ana a little about my week as I've grown accustomed to. I swallow.
"So, I hope you're okay. I saw Sophie yesterday for the first time. I was nice to her. Like you told me to be," I manage a weak smile. "And Teddy told Santa he wants a bike. Which Santa is bringing. He had a lot of trouble getting it wrapped up though," I say quietly, giving the headstone a watery smile, knowing Ana would have loved this. "Santa really wishes someone had told him it would be a whole lot easier if he put it in a box."
"Anyway, I just wanted to say Happy Christmas and I love you," I take a deep breath. My face is soaked with tears. I wipe some on my jacket sleeve as I stand in the cold December air. I stand and look at the grave for a good few minutes before carefully turning and walking back to my car.
By the time I arrive back at my parents' house it is a hive of activity. Elliott, Mia and Kate have all arrived and are tucking into eggnog in the kitchen. Elliott slaps me on the back as I hug Mia tightly. Kate looks to me. I think she knows where I've been. She offers me a hug which I don't decline and hold her close.
"You okay?" I ask her gently, knowing how hard this is on her too. She's known Ana longer than me. Not as intimately but still, she loved her.
"I'm alright, Christian. Are you?" She asks me as I nod. There's not much to say. We both know that we're not alright. I release her gently and go to look for my kids. They are in the sitting room with my parents and Ray.
"Christian," he says warmly, shaking my hand firmly as I take a seat. "Have you been to see Annie?" He asks me as I nod wordlessly. "I'm going tomorrow," he tells me.
"She'll like that," I mumble. I'm already a wreck from sitting at the headstone. I don't want to go into detail. Teddy is watching me and it's Christmas, I don't want him getting upset too. I run the back of my hand against my nose, resting my elbows on my knees.
"Pop pop brought you some gifts," Ray tells Teddy and Rose as Teddy stands excitedly to see what his grandfather has got him. He text me a few weeks ago for recommendations. Ana always believed in not giving him everything he wanted. She didn't want him to grow up spoiled. While I'm largely on board, this year Teddy is getting everything he has asked for at any point in the last few month. His lost his mom.
Ray has got Teddy a wooden tool set he wants and some bath toys whilst Rose has some sensory toys and a cute pink cardigan. Teddy plays with the toys for most of the afternoon. I don't sit and drink with my siblings, knowing I might not be able to stop, and instead play with my kids. I hear my mom have words with them at one point and I know she thinks I can't hear.
"Can you control this drinking?" I hear her telling them as I sit on the floor, helping Teddy 'mend' a chair.
"Mom, it's Christmas!" Mia protests loudly.
"I know it is. But you know that Christian has struggled with drink this year. Please show some respect," she's angry, I can tell. I don't know if it's just Mia and Elliott she's speaking to or Kate as well.
I ignore it. I need to get Teddy bathed as I've agreed to join my mom for mass this year for the first time since I was a little kid. I plan to settle the kids and put them in their strollers to let them sleep through the service. I encourage Teddy up the spiral staircase. He runs ahead a little as we walk to the bathroom nearest my bedroom I always use when I stay at mom and dad's. I place the plug in, turning on the faucet. He has brought up his new bath toys.
I gather his pyjamas and a towel and help him open the toy. It looks ridiculously complicated for a two year old, with lots of different parts to make a tunnel for little boats to flow through. I watch him unpack each piece meticulously. Now this part of him remind me of me. I was very careful with my toys once I was adopted. I didn't really have any before.
"You bath too daddy?" He asks me as I shake my head.
"I don't need a bath right now," I explain as he looks disappointed.
"Please?" He asks me as I sigh. It's Christmas, I don't want to say no. I scoop him up, walking to my room and grabbing some clean jeans and a sweater for mass, dumping them back on the bathroom floor in a very unlike me manner. Am I that sloppy now? I shake the thought as I get the bath thermometer to test it. I add a little cold before stripping off and lifting Teddy into the water, climbing in myself.
Teddy spends a great deal of time arranging each piece carefully, hooking the tunnel up. He giggles as pieces float away, chasing after them. I smile, managing to flannel wash him in between him building what eventually resembles a water slide. I reach over the side of the bath to grab the suction cups so we can attach it to the side of the tub.
"Look," Teddy exclaims excitedly as he lets the first boat flow down. "In the sea!" He points as it hits the water. I give him a smile.
"We'll have to tell Pop pop it's lot of fun," I say, washing myself as he slides more boats down. "Are you excited to see what else Santa will bring tomorrow?" I ask him as he nods. He little smile at watching the boats fades and he looks to me.
"Daddy?" He asks me slowly.
"What's up Ted?" I ask him picking up a boat to pass to him. He takes it but doesn't put it in the slide. His face is crumpled.
"I wrote Santa," he tells me, looking up at me. His face looks so sad.
"I know, you told him," I say watching him cautiously now. Now my anxiety is deciding to kick in. I take a very deep breath, as the familiar thudding in my ears starts.
"Will he bring mommy?" He asks me. He looks like he's going to cry. I think I might beat him to it.
"Teddy, is that what you asked for?" I'm super quiet with him. I don't trust myself to talk any louder. My heart is breaking.
"Yes, will he bring mommy?" He asks me again. Why the hell didn't his daycare tell me about this? I know for sure he can't have done it with Hope because she would have told me right away.
"No, Teddy. I'm so sorry," I whisper as his tears start to flow. Mine match his. I quickly try and wipe them away. I don't want to upset him more.
"Why?" He asks me. His face a picture of misery and confusion.
"Because. Santa just makes toys. That's what his elves do. All year," I explain slowly. Not that this needs to be an explanation of Santa. Kids can grasp that pretty well.
"So mommy won't come?" He asks me desperately. He still has the little blue boat in his hand.
"No Teddy. Mommy… mommy would love to come," I choke out. "But she can't. She won't come back, Teddy," I whisper. I'm trying so hard not to all out bawl right now. Teddy is wailing. I reach for him and hold him very close. He has his arms wrapped tightly around my neck. The water is getting cold by the time he calms down.
"Because she died?" He asks me finally as I nod sadly.
His breathing is a little shaky, just like mine. I use the flannel to carefully wash his face again, cleaning the tears from it. I kiss his hair. "Shall I put a little more warm water in and wash your hair?" I ask him gently.
"Daddy," he says again, not answering my question. I switch the hot tap on behind me, knowing he is safe from it.
"Yes?" I say as I see he is getting close to tears again.
"You won't go?" He asks. His little faced his etched with worry. Probably the equivalent of my anxiety.
"No Ted, I promised I wouldn't," I whisper to him as he takes the flannel to wipe his little nose. "Can I wash your hair?" I ask as he nods. I move some of the warm water around me a little, lathering up his hair with the baby shampoo. I rinse it cupping water through my hands. He seems to have picked up as he is back to threading boats through the tunnel.
I get us both out and wrap Teddy in a towel with a hood. He sits on the bath mat as I stand and dry myself, grabbing some deodorant and spraying it on. I'm trying to keep busy and fight my anxiety. No two year old deserves to see their dad have a panic attack in front of them. Teddy has seen this behaviour too much already.
I carefully put him in his pyjamas which are adorned with snowmen. My mom bought them for him as a Christmas Eve gift. His mood is right back up as he admires them excitedly. Mine isn't coming back up though. I finish towelling his hair and take him to the room he's staying in, next to my childhood bedroom. I switch a night light on. My mom has left a Christmas story book on the bed which he excitedly picks up.
I don't know how I can get through it. I feel horrible. My own hair is still dripping into my face. I find my phone, texting my mom. She hurries upstairs with my dad. I'm struggling to control my shaking by this point. I'm such a mess. My dad quickly takes the book from Teddy to sit with him and read as my mum guides me out.
I lay on my bedroom floor for ages, shaking and sobbing as my mom sits beside me, rubbing my shoulder. I can't speak for some time but when I do, I recount the whole sorry tale. "I'm so scared mom," I sob. "What if I do die and leave him alone?"
"You're not going to die, Christian," my says gently. "I know right now you feel like you might but you won't. I promise." I gasp for breath.
"I don't mean from this. I mean what if something happens? I can't leave him mom, I can't," I'm wailing on the floor of my childhood bedroom.
"Christian, it's not going to happen. It's going to be okay sweetheart, I promise you," she's rubbing my arm and I just can't stop wailing. "Come on, let's get you sat up," she's gentle with me, getting me into a sitting position. "Shall we stay home tonight?"
"Yes please," I whimper pathetically as I sit on the floor, hating every inch of myself.