Sweet Wonderful You

ii.

Stevie stands in the doorway to Henry's nursery fighting back tears as she takes in the sight of Christine sitting in the large light grey rocking chair, rocking Henry gently as she apologizes to him over and over, tears slipping down her cheeks. She swallows hard as Juliet bounds up the stairs towards her. Someone needs to be strong right now and it can't be Christine and if it isn't going to be Christine it will have to be her. She wants to fall to pieces. She wants to curse the heavens and scream and shout about how unfair life is. She wants to be the one holding her son and lamenting the dreams she has had for him that now seem lost but she can't. Not yet anyway. She has to be a mother now.

'Mommy, we play dolls now?' Juliet asks as she runs down the hallway towards Stevie and she can almost sense Stevie's reluctance to leave Christine and Henry. Not that Stevie thinks Christine is even aware of her presence, she is too lost in her own thoughts, 'you promised we could,' Juliet adds insistently as she reaches Stevie and throws her arms around her legs in a hug.

Stevie blinks back the tears that are threatening to spill down her face and nods, 'lets play Princess!' she says picking Juliet up and swinging her around, hoping that Juliet doesn't pick up on the somber mood permeating the house. Juliet is a sensitive soul and the circumstances of Henry's birth have effected her greatly. She had nightmares for months afterwards and although she lacked the language to explain them she was able to communicate that she was afraid of Christine or Stevie getting hurt. The color red is scary to her now and she refuses to wear red clothes. Stevie worries that it will have a permanent effect on her. Juliet giggles as Stevie spins her around and the sound of her laugh lifts Stevie's mood.

'Put me down. I dizzy!' Juliet exclaims after a moment. Stevie places her gently black on the floor and Juliet stumbles slightly before righting herself, 'come on mommy,' Juliet says taking Stevie by hand and leading her to her bedroom. 'Sit down mommy,' Juliet says pointing to the floor. Stevie follows Juliet's instructions and is handed a baby doll crudely wrapped in a blanket. 'This is your baby mommy, her name is Ashley, like my friend at day care,' Juliet says. 'And this is my baby, she is called Christine like mama. My baby is crying because she is sad, what is your baby doing?'

'Ashley is hungry. Do you have a bottle I can feed her?' Stevie asks. Juliet hands Stevie a baby bottle with her chubby hand Stevie accepts it, 'why is Christine sad?' Stevie asks. The doctors treating Henry had told Stevie and Christine at the hospital that imaginative play would help Juliet talk about her feelings regarding her little brother and it is something Stevie and Christine have encouraged since.

'Christine is sad because she is hurt. She has a booboo on her tummy,' Juliet replies and Stevie sighs. This is a scenario that Juliet plays out often. Christine had developed post-natal depression after Henry's birth, six months on she is still fighting her way through the darkness, but Juliet is too young to comprehend that. She does however understand physical pain so it makes sense to her that her mama is said because she is hurt. Christine's depression is affecting Juliet and Stevie hates it. It is times like this when Stevie wishes she could turn back time. Go back to when Juliet was six months old and accept that they could be a happy family of three. If she could she wouldn't have a traumatized toddler, the love of her life wouldn't be depressed and her son wouldn't be facing a lifetime of disability and all the limitations that it would place upon his life.

It was Lindsey who had first suggested that Henry's development might be lagging behind. The doctors at the hospital had been so impressed with Henry's progress while he was in the NICU but after he was released three weeks before his due date, little warning signs had started to appear. He was late to hold his head up, and he hated tummy time. It was Lindsey who had noticed that he could roll from front to back using his left side but not his right. They were hoping he would catch up. Hoping nothing was wrong but it was not to be. The neurologist confirmed it today. Cerebral Palsy. Henry's tiny brain had been irreparably damaged, the combined effects of hypoxia and prematurity too much to overcome. The neurologist said it would take time to figure out exactly how he would be effected but not to lose hope. That feels impossible. Christine had seemed like she was doing better the past couple of weeks, more like her old self, today she has been withdrawn, disconnected in a ways she hasn't been, even through the worst of her depression and her grief and it feels like her darkest moments are ahead of her, not behind her. Stevie's dreams for Henry have faded into the ether, Christine's have too. Yesterday it felt like he could be anything, an astronaut, president of the United States, now it feels like all that is gone. The world isn't a kind place for anyone who is different, anyone who is seen as anything less than perfect. Stevie and Christine both know that and it is unfair and it hurts.

'Mommy?' Juliet asks and it takes a moment for Stevie to acknowledge her, she has totally zoned out of their play session, lost in her own thoughts.

'Yes Princess?' Stevie asks.

'Mommy, I love you!' Juliet says throwing her arms around Stevie's neck.

'I love you too Princess,' Stevie replies.

---

'I failed him,' Christine whispers into the darkness as they lay in bed together, Christine spooned against Stevie, it is well after midnight and they are both wide awake.

Stevie hesitates to respond, partly because in her darkest moments she thinks that Christine has failed their son. She knows it isn't true. She knows that Christine had no control over what happened. Knows that it could have just as easily happened to her, or to any other pregnant woman but when she is hurting, when she needs someone to blame, it is easier to blame Christine than it is to blame herself. 'Be honest with me Stevie, you think I failed him too,' Christine whispers, pulling herself away from Stevie's touch. Stevie can hear soft sobs and it further shatters her already broken heart.

'Sometimes I wish things could have been different but I don't think you failed him and I don't blame you,' Stevie says quietly rolling over to face Christine, 'I love you and I love Henry and we can get through this. I promise you we will get though this. I'm not letting you go. I'm not going to let you push me away.'

'So what do we do now?' Christine asks sniffling.

'We love him. We do our best to raise him as if nothing is wrong and when things do go wrong, and they will, no child has the perfect life disabled or not, we love him and we support him and we help him. Just like we will for Juliet,' Stevie replies, tears stinging at her eyes.

'I can do that,' Christine responds shifting closer to Stevie and wrapping her arms around her. Stevie pulls Christine close and holds her tightly, falling into a comfortable silence. 'I think I need to see someone,' Christine says just as Stevie is beginning to fall asleep,' I think maybe we all need to see someone. You, me, Lindsey, Juliet, all of us. The meds aren't enough. They help me get through the day but they aren't actually helping me move on. We need to move on. For Juliet, for Henry and for us.' It is the first time Christine has acknowledged that they need more support than they can give each other and Stevie feels relieved. Christine's OB/GYN had prescribed her Prozac while Henry was still in the hospital because it was so clear that she was struggling but between the chaos of caring for a toddler and a premature baby and recovering from the C-section and the blood loss, follow up care for her post-natal depression had fallen through the cracks and for months now Christine has been relying solely on Stevie for support and Stevie in turn was relying on Lindsey, now they are all teetering on the edge, inches away from falling to pieces. Lindsey is maybe taking it hardest of all, because he is taking on all of Christine's pain and grief and all of Stevie's but he has no one to support him, and he is in pain and grieving too. Stevie knows they aren't being fair to him. That changes now. That need to change now. Stevie worries that unless something changes he will end up pulling away and she will lose him again. She had never expected that Lindsey would become her best friend, had never imagined that he would be the person who would be there for her unwaveringly. Her relationship with Christine had finally allowed them to move forward, to transform and all three of them are stronger for it.

'I think that is a good idea,' Stevie responds, stifling a yawn 'lets talk to Lindsey in the morning.'

'Okay sleepyhead,' Christine replies, leaning in and kissing Stevie gently on the lips, 'sweet dreams.'

'Sweet dreams Chris,' Stevie replies as her eyes drift shut.