Baby Face

Seventeen

Harry

Harper isn't coping, that's what went through my head daily. She isn't coping. I think I was, I had to

I guess I push my feelings to the side in order to care for hers, I mean it was hard for me, but it must be harder for Harper - she has the physical and emotional attachment.

I knew she wasn't coping simply because she's now been in bed for three weeks, everything I try to encourage her to do she declines and retracts herself from the world a little more.

Sienna was suffering, she didn't know what was going on with mummy, why mummy was sad, why mummy didn't want to go to the park or go to town like she used to.

It's hard explaining it to a five year old.

I felt personally that I was getting along with it fine, sometimes I would think about how unfortunate the terms of events were but then I tried to look at the positive side, try to keep optimistic.

But Harper.. she was slipping, I could say she was depressed, she would lie in the same spot, anything could happen around her and she wouldn't move.

I had told Samantha but Harper wouldn't answer her phone, I hadn't told her family the full extent mainly because I didn't want to worry them, and I knew if they came round Harper would only get upset - and the last thing I want to do is upset her even more.

I was at a loss, I felt like I'd lost her. She wouldn't smile or laugh, she would just lay there with no expression watching the world pass by.

Today it was her check up for her ankle, I knew she didn't want to go but she had to.

"Come on, we need to go."

She sat in a black tee and jeans on the end of the bed staring into space. I grabbed her handbag and helped her down the stairs.

Driving the the hospital Harper watched out the window. "Maybe after we could get some lunch together? We haven't in a while,"

"Yeah,"

"There's that place that does those eggs you like, I could invite Gemma too."

"Mhmm,"

It was difficult to get even a sentence out of her.

. . .

Arriving at the hospital we were quickly seen to, the doctor asked Harper a load of questions before examining her ankle.

When Harper left for a toilet break I quietly spoke to the doctor.

"We lost our baby at nine weeks nearly a month ago,"

"I'm sorry to hear that,"

"Since then Harper has become.. detached. I think she's depressed,"

She nods. "This is common in women who have miscarriages, some women respond by overworking or going out on nights out or some respond by slipping into a depression. Nine weeks is a difficult time as she'll have had all pregnancy hormones but for them now to have stopped she'll be suffering quite badly, an almost anti natal depression. If you're worried, I can give you leaflets about specialists who can help you,"

I shake my head. "I'll research it, thank you."

She nods as Harper walks back, her expression still distant.

. . .

Lunch was quiet, I didn't invite anyone as I didn't want them to worry about Harper.

"Sienna has her play next week,"

Harper nods. "She told me,"

"She's very excited,"

"Yeah,"

It was odd to sit opposite this Harper, she was always talking and bubbly, but now it was as if all form of life had been sucked from her.

"I'm ready to go home now Harry,"

She hadn't really touched her food, she'd moved it around and had three bites, but that was it.

"Are you sure? You don't want to-"

She shakes her head. "I want to go home,"

I finish my food before standing to help her, we slowly make our way to the car but I was stopped quite a lot by fans.

Each time they'd give their condolences to Harper and I could see in her face that she wasn't hearing them properly, she was just blocking out what they were saying - pretending she couldn't hear them.

. . .

Back at home Harper gets back into bed, I sigh but I knew I couldn't push her, I couldn't make her do anything she didn't want to.

So while she napped I did my research in the office, I looked into therapy sessions, specialists, medicines.. the lot.

"Hello?"

"Kendall,"

"Harry?"

"Yeah, sorry for the random call."

"It's okay,"

"I need your help,"

"You do?"

"I think Harper's depressed,"

"She hasn't spoken to me in weeks,"

"Me either," I sigh. "And I live with her,"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Fly over,"

Kendall was silent.

"If you come she might.. shake out of it, I'll pay for the flight." I offer.

"No, no. Its fine I'll get the next New York to London connection."

"Thanks Kendall,"

"You're welcome,"

I sit back in my office chair scrolling through all the different websites that offer advice and support. I look to the side at the photo of Harper and I from around a year ago in the frame I had on my desk, we're both smiling on a balcony we were eating dinner on one night on holiday.

I was going to get my Harper back, back from wherever it is she's been.