Lifeline

Chapter 37

Alex POV:

As the weeks of Liz's pregnancy went by, there was an undeniable sense of anticipation and excitement in the air. We were both eager to welcome another child into our family, yet this time, things felt different. It wasn't just about preparing for a new baby; it was about navigating the challenges and joys of pregnancy while keeping in mind the lessons we had learned from our past experiences. However, as the pregnancy progressed, I couldn't help but notice that something was amiss. Liz's moods seemed to be more unpredictable than usual, and there were times when she appeared to be struggling with overwhelming emotions. Concerned, I broached the subject gently one evening as we sat together on the couch after putting Emilia to bed. "Liz, I've noticed that you've been feeling a bit off lately," I began cautiously. "Is everything okay?" She looked at me, her expression a mix of vulnerability and hesitation. "I'm not sure, Alex. It's just... I've been experiencing some.. feelings from my past. It's like they're resurfacing with the pregnancy hormones." I felt a pang of worry in my chest. I knew that Liz had struggled with her borderline disorder and her mental health in the past. God, I practically stopped her from killing herself, and while she had made significant progress, it was clear that the pregnancy was bringing up some challenges. I reached out to take her hand in mine, offering her my support. "Thank you for telling me," I said softly. "You don't have to go through this alone, Liz. We're a team, remember?" Tears welled up in her eyes, and she nodded, squeezing my hand. "I know. I just... I don't want to burden you with my issues, especially when we're expecting another baby." I shook my head, gently wiping away a tear that had escaped. "You're not a burden, Liz. Your well-being is important to me, and I want to be here for you. We'll figure this out together." Over the next few weeks, we navigated the challenges of Liz's worsening symptoms as a united front. We sought the guidance of a therapist who had helped her in the past, and Liz continued with her self-care routines to manage her mental health. I made sure to provide her with the space and support she needed while also taking on more responsibilities at home.

As the weeks went by, I couldn't shake the feeling that Liz's symptoms were intensifying and were affecting not just her but our entire household. Despite her best efforts and the support we sought, it seemed like her struggles were deepening, and it was painful for me to witness her in such distress, especially during a time that should have been filled with joy and anticipation. One evening, as we sat together on the couch after putting the kid to bed, I took her hand in mine and looked into her eyes. "Liz, I've been noticing that things are getting harder for you. Your mood swings are more frequent, and your energy seems to be draining away." She sighed and leaned her head against my shoulder. "I know, Alex. It's like I'm trapped in this cycle of darkness, and I can't break free. I'm scared of how it's affecting all of us." I wrapped my arm around her, holding her close. "You're not alone in this, Liz. We're in this together, and I'm here to support you every step of the way." Tears welled up in her eyes. "I appreciate that, Alex. I really do. But I'm struggling to find any relief from this. I'm scared that it's going to impact our family, especially with the baby on the way. And I'm so scared it'll continue once they're here." I felt a knot tighten in my chest as I listened to her worries. I had been trying my best to be there for her and to create a positive and supportive environment, but it seemed like her symptoms were a formidable force that I couldn't entirely shield her from. "You're an incredible mother, Liz," I said softly, brushing my thumb over her hand. "And we're going to get through this together. We've faced challenges before, and we'll face this one too." Liz nodded, but her eyes were filled with uncertainty. "I know you're right, Alex. But it's hard. Some days it feels like I'm losing myself." I pressed a kiss to her forehead. "We're going to seek the help you need, Liz. We'll talk to the doctors and explore every option to make sure you're getting the support necessary for your well-being and for the well-being of our growing family." Over the next few weeks, I continued to be by Liz's side, doing my best to be a source of comfort and stability. I encouraged her to keep up with therapy, self-care, and any strategies that had helped her in the past. But despite our efforts, her symptoms persisted, and the darkness seemed to loom even larger. One night, as I held her close in bed, she turned to me with tears in her eyes. "Alex, I'm scared," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm scared that this is going to affect our baby and that I won't be able to provide a healthy environment for them." I hugged her tightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "We're going to do everything in our power to make sure you're healthy, Liz. We'll work with the doctors, we'll explore all the options, and we'll get through this as a family." As the days turned into weeks, I continued to do my best to be there for Liz, to offer my support and love in any way I could. Yet, there were moments when I felt helpless, unsure of how to break through the walls that seemed to be closing in on her. I longed for the spark of light to return to her eyes and for the laughter that used to fill our home to echo once again. And as the months went by, I saw glimmers of hope, moments when the darkness seemed to recede just a little bit. With each step forward, I held Liz's hand, determined to help her find her way back to the light.