Chapter 1
Youngstown, Ohio
Miscarriage
She sat in a bathtub in New Jersey, wet White Pages at her fingertips, a styrofoam cup of warm tea sat untouched. This cramp was the one, she could feel it. No. This one was only another clut. Her husband laid in the bed as the sun was rising up, his snores comforted her as she cried muffed tears of pain and sorrow into the bubbles, now crimson. Call your mom. Doctor won’t be awake yet because it’s Sunday and he told her to wait until Monday or go to the Emergency Room in Jersey if the pain or bleeding was too much or if the clots became too thick to manage. She was at that point and she hadn’t even passed the sac they both were warned would be passed. The doctor sat them both down the Friday before and delivered the news after his snack of crackers and he sipped coffee. She was in the office earlier that week for an ultrasound and complaints of severe cramping despite her increased appetite and major bloat. The high risk specialist, fertility doctor, and OBGYN had confirmed the pregnancy with a calculated month, day, and time where she was injected and the next week confirmed the pregnancy. Her husband was there for the shot, and confirmation as tears rolled down both brown eyes as she blinked through her long, wet eyelashes. Years of struggling through PCOS, insulin resistance, and Chlmoid daily not to mention the prayers, sleepless nights, and dieting. Finally they could have the missing piece of the ovum, the pie, the puzzle, even spice up Uno game and they’re love of pizza, traveling to lighthouses, maybe even share eye color. She was working part time and studying to finish her studies at the local college and he was working full time at a local recycling company with good benefits, odd hours, and decent wages but was struggling to find a job in teaching or coaching, his true passion. They had been married for 3 years and were settling into life, but that day when the news was confirmed that they lost the 10 weeks of life inside her, she still wanted to travel to the lighthouses they planned in advance to visit in New Jersey. He was baffled but knew his wife and knew she had this trip MapQuested months in advance, her bags packed a week ago, and the hotels reserved and paid for in advance. He too knew he needed this vacation, escape, even time to drive to clear his mind. Eight hours in the car was no problem for either of them as long as she managed to keep quiet, navigate in the passenger side, get toll money readily available, and keep an eye out for cops. He loved the cool air on his Irish face and the smell of the metal in ocean air seemed to keep him focused on happiness. Inconceivable was the word that came to mind when he heard the doctor tell them that she was going to expel the dead fetus in the next 48 hours or she was to be scheduled for the DNR Monday. He asked if she could die from the process and the doctor softly took a drink of his Mountain Dew can and laughed but looked up. No. She will be just fine in a few months. Give her time, baths, pizza, hugs, and his mind went blank. He couldn’t think as she asked questions and the doctor nodded or handed her tissues. As the doctor offered his condolences, his mind snapped back into focus as the doctor offered his fat hand out, pumped it hard, and told his wife to have a good trip, take lots of pictures, and call him anytime if she needed to. His eyes locked into the floor as he heard the doctor tell them also to drive safe and not forget to pack pads. Extra clothing and underwear. He finally could breathe when they hit the turnpike just 1 mile from the doctors office and he could see the Welcome to Pennsylvania sign and the green mile markers whizzing past. 148 more miles until the pit stop and more gas and freedom.
Hopes of little pink onesies and blue shoes or would it be blue hats and Buckeye hats escaped her mind as she felt the familiar cramps and the clots rush out for the 30th time that day. Hour 38 and she still hadn’t passed the bloody sac she was told wouldn’t be large, but like a major period clot and that would be it. She was told it could happen in the toilet, bath, even underwear or in the car, bed, even climbing lighthouses and as she shore, she felt like a Shell Silverstein poem gone bad. Doctor Suess’s Wacky Wednesday passed her mind and she laughed. Call your mom. 7:20 she would be awake and tell her to go for a walk. The day before he and she climbed 8 lighthouses, traveled 467 miles, and climbed 2,470 steps to go through 2 rolls of film, 3 pairs of jeans and underwear, but bought a few hats and shared good pizza, some laughs, and good music. He was beat from asking her if she was okay and she was exhausted from waiting. Now. She stood up to wash the bubbles and blood down the drain and wanted to wash her hair before she went for a walk along the Atlantic and she wanted to see the sun rise up on the shores of Sandy Hook. The lighthouse was only 2 miles from the cottage they had rented and she knew the beach was only steps away. Sunday mornings on the beach with a hot mug of coffee, the local newspaper, and a white towel wrapped around her wet head, she secretly wanted a smoke. She had quit a while back but of all moments, now, she wanted a menthol. Badly. She quietly asked the front clerk if she could bum a smoke, and he giggled as he said she could keep it. Her blonde hair and brown eyes thanked him and she leaked tears as she asked for a light. The clerk handed her a pack of matches from the drawer, smiled at her, and asked her if she wanted anything. More towels if it’s alright. Sure. Oh, and any history about lighthouses. She listened to him talk about the local lighthouses and night visits and memories about Navesink, Red Banks, and the beach at night. Where are you from again? Ohio. She thanked him and walked to the door, the morning sun kissing her cheeks and the television in the back played local news about a boy who wanted something for Christmas because his dad died on 9/11. Sad.
Visiting other states, she knew enough to pack change for emergencies but absently forgot to pack the car charger for her phone and his phone. Flipping her pink Razor to a blank screen, she opened the White Pages and laughed at the local pizza ads and even the map of characters drawn to map up local bars, venues, and parks. She dug into her jeans and pulled enough out to call her mom long distance and struck up the back of the match, inhaled, and picked up the payphones latch. Nervously, she coined the dimes and looked at the ocean as she exhaled the smoke and condensation mix. Her insides tightened and she cramped as her mom said the family’s greeting and she sighed. Mom. Not yet. She cried as she looked over the stone break wall and sobbed. The food is good and the company is sad. We are both in shock mom. The ocean is beautiful and the day is Sunday, the day the Lord made. Sunday Morning is on soon at 9:00 and we saw tons of lights and climbed tons of steps. Mom. How is dad? She spilled the coins into the slot as she cried but listened for her dad's laugh. She exhaled at the dumbness and numbness. Go walk the beach, finish your smoke, and wipe your gorgeous face my baby. Go smile at your husband, daughter. Comfort him and smile for him. Cry onto the sun and smile into the wind and let out all the grief, my girl. Climb home and into bed tonight and cry. Today. Go and be happy but know this isn’t the end of you or him. Lean on him but now go and walk. Stop sneaking your smokes love. Know you’ll soon pass your sorrow. Pain will come today but now, get on your big girl panties and smile at the ocean. Lighthouses always made you smile. He will drive home safe and he will take care of you. He needs you too today and in the meantime, you need to go see the sand and remember dad. I love you honey, but your dad would be livid you used your coins to call and not a calling card. Plus, daddy would want you to smile, sweet child. Go rest and see you tomorrow or call me when you get home. But please smile.
The smell of the ocean hit her cheeks as she clicked the phone into the cradle, she wiped her hands onto the back of her dirty maternity jeans, and smiled as she stomped out the butt, walked across the cold October air, and into the warm beams of ocean air. Pain shot into her midsection but she continued to laugh at the click and the clack of her flip flops, at the warm sand on her toes, and the smell of fish. Smiling, she looked north to see the sun hit the side of a sailboat, and the lighthouse he and she climbed the day before. Her wet face and beaming smile looked towards the south, and the sun was peaking on the horizon as a crashing wave hit her toes. She was alone as she looked at the beach so she wept into the roar. Suddenly, she jumped onto the waves and laughed. Climb the wall and see. She listened to the voice inside her and smiled, the view was amazing. He would be up soon and she needed to check out of the room. This moment was hers. She smiled at the ring on her finger and at the wet towel that had dropped from her head. Soon she would be sitting for hours and napping in the car while visiting 4 states. This moment she was peering into the morning light and smiling. He was good. She was right, she would be alright. He would be, too. The sandpipers ran into the waves and chirped noises not even noticing her watching. Two more visits to two more lighthouses were planned but she felt empty. Hopeful, she wiped her face and gathered her things and walked towards their car parked in the sand covered gravel. She could see the New York City skyline vaguely as she smiled at the warm autumn air. Sunday’s were the best days for a reason. The sun smiled upon the view, her hopes and smiles high, and she walked to door 4, slid the keys into the cottage's door, and slipped into the white sheets of comfort. He smiled as she quietly kissed his red cheeks, tears spilling onto his head. She would be fine, they would live happily ever after, and he would smile too. Soon.
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