Today, Tomorrow & Forever (Book 11 in the Forever Series)

Chapter 11

Nick

I held the paper, in my hand, trying not to shake, because of the apprehension I had over reading this to Demi. On this piece of paper, it was my heart that was doing the talking about the baby girl, Demi & I had lost, before we even got to meet her. A part of me was afraid to read this to Demi, because I didn't want to upset her. It was my innermost thoughts about a subject that was sensitive for the two of us. Ever since Delaney passed away, Demi & I tiptoed around the subject, for the most part. We only seemed to want to talk about her on the anniversary of the day she died, which was also the day she was born. She never even lived, in the outside world. She died before she came into the world & that thought alone broke my heart.

"If you don't want to, right now, it can wait." I heard Demi's soft voice, bring me out of my thoughts.

I hadn't realized I was simply staring at the paper, until she spoke, so I glanced up at her & shook my head. "No, it's fine. I'm just nervous."

"Why are you nervous?"

"You're a better writer than me."

Demi rolled her eyes. "Shut up. I am not."

"Honestly, I'm nervous because I don't want to make you sad all over again, since you've come so far over the last ten years. I know you've come so far, because you've been writing about her & you talk to the kids about her & you even dream about her."

"How do you know I dream about her?" Demi interrupted me. "Did Jerry tell you?"

"No." I replied, sitting on the couch. "There's been a few times I've woken up in the middle of the night & I would hear you whimpering. I'd look at you & see you looked upset as you slept. Then I'd keep watching you & I'd see you smile & sometimes you say, 'hi, baby.' Then after watching you for a few minutes to make sure you were okay, you'd say her name, so I knew. I've known for a long time."

Demi nodded, swallowing hard, then she cleared her throat. "Do you want to wait to read it to me?"

I shook my head. "No. I want to now." I smiled at Demi as she curled up on the other end of the sofa & waited, with bated breath. I cleared my throat, then started to read what I had written. "No parent should ever lose a child. It doesn't matter how old you are, in a perfect world, the parents should always go first. It also doesn't matter how long you were a parent to that child, the love is still there. The heartache is still there. The pain is still there. My daughter, Delaney, passed away before she took her first breath & I mourn for her, even still today, even though it's been a decade. I feel the same loss as I would if I lost any one of my children. The pain is unbearable some days, but I push through it because I have a family who needs me. I have a family who needs to not be sad." My voice cracked, so I looked up at Demi, to see what her expression was. She looked like she was going to start bawling. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No." She replied, quickly, shaking her head. 

I took a deep breath then started to read again. "The hardest part about being a dad who loses a child, is that you have to be strong, all the time. You have to be stronger than you want to be. You have to be, strong, for the mother. I have to be strong enough for the both of us. When a mother loses a child, it feels like they're losing a part of them. At least that's what I've heard my wife say. The thing is... I feel like a part of me is missing, too. I know I didn't carry her inside me, but it doesn't matter, because for those months my wife was carrying her, I felt her move. I heard the heartbeat. I watched her grow, as my wife's belly grew. I sang to her. I told her stories. I dreamed about her. I had plans for her. I loved her." My voice cracked again, so I cleared my throat & took a deep breath. I glanced up at Demi, who had tears falling down her face. I looked back at the paper, knowing that if I stopped again, I'd get too emotional to finish. "Sometimes, I feel like because I wasn't the one who carried her, that people don't recognize my pain as easily as they recognize my wife's. I don't resent them or my wife, but it still bothers me & that's one of the biggest reasons I wanted to write this. My son, Jerry, made me realize this, because he wrote something for the simple fact that he wanted people to know that even though he was so young when he lost his sister, it still makes him sad. Well, even though, I'm the dad, I still feel that loss, the same way. The emptiness is still there. I'm sure there are other dads out there, who have experienced a loss & maybe feel like I do. I want to let them know that they're not alone. I want their families & friends to know that they're hurting just as much as the mothers are, but also that their burden may be even more severe. Not only do they have to deal with their own pain, but they have to deal with the pain of the mother of their child. Most of the mothers, much like my wife, probably blame themselves. They wonder if it was something they had done wrong. They're carrying their babies, knowing that their bodies are protecting them while they're inside the womb, so they have to feel like it's their fault, when their body fails to protect their baby. I had to hold my wife as she cried & blamed herself, all the while, grieving, myself, internally."