When You Realize You've Become 'That Mom'...and What Comes Next

4 - Charlie's Point of View

Those next few days felt like a lifetime. I was taking care of everything and felt outside of my element. Cathy wasn't recovering and Christopher was recovering slowly. I had to go from work, home, and back to the hospital every single day. The days rolled together and had become one long nightmare that I wanted to wake up from. 

I called my family and told them the news of Christopher's arrival. They all lived so far away that no one would be able to make it out to see him. I was drained. The strain of this had me completely exhausted. I grabbed a cup of coffee and I knew I needed to drink it quickly. I needed to get back to Cathy's room before she woke up. When she would wake she would often be confused. Seeing me helped to clear the fog. 

 I rubbed my eyes to ease the dryness and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked worn. My hazel eyes were stained with dull blue specs littered across the irises. My skin was blotchy and drained of color. I was going to need to wash my face. I couldn't let Cathy see me like this.  She needed my strength.

Quickly, I threw water on my face and took a paper towel to dry myself. I would only permit myself a moment to feel sorry for myself. My family needed me to be strong and I was going to be their strength.  There was no other option. With this renewed vigor I went to her.

Her fever wasn't breaking and her blood pressure was too low to be safely discharged. The doctors had advised me that she would need to remain there until she could be stabilized. She faded in and out of consciousness. They seemed to view this as a positive sign but it didn't seem positive to me. 'What if her blood pressure continued to decrease?' 

I felt worn and drained.  I sat there beside my wife, wishing that she would wake up so that she could see that I was there. I wanted her to know she wasn't alone. I didn't know that she had woken up while I was gone or that Christopher had been there as well. I wouldn't find that out until later that day when I spoke with one of the nurses. 

Exhaustion had overtaken me. I was going to have to leave without seeing her, without letting her know that I was here. I was going to have to go home without my wife and without my son. My heart felt like it was breaking and I was beside myself with grief. 

The drive home was torturous. It felt like my feet were made of lead weights. Each step was a burden. Sweat poured down my face as I finally managed enough strength to crawl into our empty bed. Sleep would not come easy. Rest wouldn't  find me, but to my small comfort, I had managed to recharge enough of my battery to face the new day.

I would return to them. Every day. Rinse and repeat. Waiting and hoping that one day soon, I would be returning to this empty house with my family in tow. It took days before she laid eyes on me for the first time and several more days before she was stabilized.  The news that she would be discharged was so joyous that I hadn't noticed her rejecting to leave.

"She will be able to be discharged soon," the doctor told me.

"Thank God," I said filled with hope and promise. I smiled and relief hit me. I realized at that moment that I had been living in fear.

As I walked towards her room, a calm caressed me like a warm embrace. We were not out of the woods but at least I would have her home with me. Our son would need to remain at the hospital longer. That pained me but I took comfort in knowing that at least we would be together. With Cathy home, we would be able to get through this together. 

I wasn't prepared for what she had to say. I hadn't thought that such a thing would be possible. 

"I can't go," She said to me. 'I'm going to stay here. I won't leave this place without him."

"You can't stay," I insisted. "You need to heal, you can't do that here," I realized that there was a desperation in my voice. I had hoped that she could understand the logic and reason. I didn't realize that she was thinking of everything that happened and was deep in her emotions, her love, and her pain. There was no room for logic and reason. There was only Christopher. 

"I can't bear the thought of leaving him here alone, Charlie. I can't leave without Christopher," she pleaded with me.

"But you need to heal," I said.

"I'll heal when we are all home together but not without Christopher. He needs me," she responded.

"I need you," I said and I realized how it sounded after the words left my mouth. I couldn't take them back. I couldn't ask her to sacrifice the way she felt about our son for the way she felt about me.

I knew that she wanted to be able to give me hope.  I saw it in her eyes.  She wanted to be able to say 'Ok, let's go home.' but she couldn't. If Christopher wasn't with us when she walked out of that building I think she would never be able to forgive herself for the betrayal. 

I would be forced to return to our empty house alone for many more nights. She had refused to leave. My strong-willed Catherine simply would not leave. She demanded they provide her with a room and she stayed. Barely able to walk it took her nearly 30 minutes to get to his room between visits. 

Her body ached from all that it had endured. Yet, hope-filled her. For the first time since that first day, she was going to get to see our son. She was going to have the opportunity to hold him in her arms. The two of them would be united once again. 

Catherine wasn't prepared for what she was going to see. In hindsight, I wish I would have warned her.