Hey guys! I've been holding on to this chapter for the last few weeks. I guess I was nervous about posting it because it's a lot different than what I was expecting. This chapter is wayyy longer than I expected. The ending I was originally doing, in my opinion, didn't leave them with the happy ever after, so I decided to add more and I ended up adding a lot more. I legit stayed up to 4 in the morning finishing this so that I could upload asap. I just started school and I know if I don't finish it now, I don't know when I'll have the chance.
Anyways, this chapter is dedicated to all those who have supported me on this journey. I hope you guys enjoy this epilogue! Don't forget to vote and comment!
Epilogue
"How have you been?" Dr. Joyce asked smiling at me.
"Better. Much better." I told her with a genuine smile.
"Great!" She responded writing something down on her notepad. When I first started going to therapy this act would have really gotten under my skin, it wasn't until five or six sessions later did I get used to her quietly writing things down about me. "How's Junior?"
The day after leaving the hospital I did my very best to remain optimistic about my pregnancy with Nicholas Junior. I read every baby book in the pack library and spent hours designing a nursery and online shopping for clothes and other necessities. I read books to him every night and played classical music anytime I could. None of that prepared me for what was to come.
Most women believe that having a baby in your womb automatic bonds the two of you together. This wasn't the case for Junior and I. He cried every time I held him and he refused to latch on to me when it was time to breast feed, leaving me with no other option but to pump.
I carried him for 7 months and somewhere down the line, he had developed some sort of hatred for me. It left me in a dark place, knowing my own son hated me. Jennifer stayed over as much as she could but it only made me feel worse that she had managed to bond with him way more than I had. Nick had to take time from the pack to take care of him and I. I barely got out of bed in the beginning months of his life, crying myself to sleep most of the day. It affected Riley too, who did anything she could not to be home.
The day that Junior turned four months Nick forced me into therapy where I was later diagnosed with postpartum depression. It took a month of therapy before I could pick him up again without breaking down. Six months later and I had finally developed a healthy relationship with my son. He would smile at me now and when he cried he would come to me for comfort.
"He's doing really good, just recently called me "mama"." I smiled thinking back to the memory, it was the most rewarding thing that has ever happened to me. I remember months ago when he had started calling Nick, "dada", I was beyond jealous especially when he had then created his very own nickname for Riley, Rye. He could repeat any words that we ask him to besides calling me, mom. It was the worst rejected I had ever felt and spent days later crying about.
"That's wonderful." Dr. Joyce replied.
Once our hour-long session was over I said my goodbye and ran all the way home. While Nicholas enjoyed the extra pounds on me, I could use without. On top of that exercising helped clear my mind, I had just begun running every day just before I had to get Riley ready for school.
Standing at the front of our house was my mate with one of his big comfy t-shirts. Shifting back into my human form, he pulled the shirt over my head. "How was therapy?"
If this was a few months ago I would have been pissed at him for talking about this out in public where anyone could hear. In our community being considered weak is the worst thing you can be. So many wolves go without help in fear of being seen as weak. Nowadays I had no problem talking about my issues in front of others, I had gotten the help that I needed and had no problem with being a public advocated for therapy. "Great, Joyce has decreased my sessions to just twice a month."
