A Life Worth Fighting (25 page)

He thinks for a minute and says, “I honestly have no idea.” 

“This is the only song you listen to, right?” 

“It is.” 

“Three or four hours a day, five days a week?”  

“Sounds about right.” 

“For five years?” 

“Or eight years.” 

“You have been listening to the song for eight years?” 

“Or nine,” he laughs. 

Robert holds the bag while I hit it. He instructs me on the right way of doing it. It feels good to be able to hit something after a day like we had. My mind keeps drifting back to the nurse at the hospital and I can still see Jamie’s fine hair falling onto that nasty, dirty, linoleum floor. I hit the bag as hard as I can one last time.  

Robert and I make love after my workout and I go upstairs to relax in a bubble bath. He comes up shortly after his shower and joins me in the bath.  

Later that night, I call Dove and ask her if she wants to fill in for me at the shop this week. She is more than happy to, although she says she’s won’t know what to do. I call Bethany and let her know that Dove will be helping out this week with her. Once my week at work is covered, I read the next story in Jamie’s bedtime storybook. It was one of her favorites and is titled “Love You Forever.” I hold the book to my chest and cry myself to sleep. I don’t wake when Robert finally comes to bed. When I wake up, it is to the sound of my alarm. Robert is already out of bed. The only way that I know he was even in bed is because Jamie’s bedtime book is on his nightstand. My heart still hurts from crying myself to sleep.  

I dress and find Robert in Jamie’s room. He is sitting on her bed with some of Jamie’s baby pictures scattered around him. It looks like he’s been crying or perhaps he hasn’t been to bed yet, I’m not sure. He looks away when he sees me and clears his throat. I walk further into the room and pick a picture off of the bed. It’s a picture of Jamie and Robert at Jamie’s baptism when she was an infant.  

“I love this picture,” I say honestly.  

Robert looks over at me with red eyes. He smiles a sad smile when he sees the picture I am holding.  

“I love her. I loved her from the first second I saw her. Leah, if she isn’t ours…” 

“She is, Robert. We have to believe that. We have to believe that she is ours.” I sit on the bed and I hold him. We both cry. It hasn’t even been 24 hours yet since we submitted the DNA and we are both a mess. I honestly have no idea how we’ll make it through a week of uncertainty.
Grieving the loss of a child is a process that begins the day your child passes and ends the day the parents join him or her.
 

Robert and I stay home and go through Jamie’s things from her short three years of life with us. We go through her clothes in the closet and in her drawers, her artwork that’s in her coloring books, and photos. We smile, laugh, and cry. The black cloud hovers over me everyday waiting to consume me. Robert does his best to help me. Life is a battle and Robert keeps telling me it’s a life worth fighting. I would rather have had Jamie for three years than to never have had her at all. I just never imagined that we would have had her for only the three years. Parents are never supposed to bury their children, and yet they do. Now, to have to wait to find out that she may not have been ours to begin with is past unfair — it’s just plain cruel. 

I force myself to eat something although I’m not hungry. Robert works out and I sit outside by the pool with a lemonade. The sun feels good and I realize how much I have missed doing this. Vitamin D from the sunshine is a good way to help fight depression.  

When Robert is done working out, he jumps into the pool with a splash. When he resurfaces, he splashes me. He laughs his boyish laugh and it makes me laugh, too. I get out of the chair and waddle over to him. He helps me into the water and carries me around the perimeter of the pool, cradling me like an infant. He laughs when my belly pokes out if the water. “He’s getting big,” Robert says.  

“He is,” I agree.  

“We probably need to start shopping for a baby bed and things. Do you want to do that later?” 

“I don’t want to leave the house,” I say as I lightly splash water on Robert’s arm.  

“That’s the beauty of shopping online. We can do it from the comfort of our own home.” 

“Ace, that sounds like a plan.” 

Robert and I buy the baby some things, but we both decided we would like to use Jamie’s old baby bed. I was afraid to mention it to him, so I was glad when he mentioned it first. I let him believe it was his idea.  

“What are you smiling at?” he asks.  

“I’m just glad we decided to use Jamie’s baby bed.” 

“Me, too. I would like to paint and get the nursery ready for the baby.” 

I smile at Robert and cuddle into him. “Me, too, let’s start on it tomorrow.”  

“Sounds good.” 

Robert reads a story from Jamie’s storybook and I fall asleep in the middle of it. It’s a good sign that I’m relaxed. I sleep cuddled into Robert. I always sleep better when I’m touching him. His hand rests on my belly and I can feel the baby kicking. I don’t stir. He moves his hand to the spot the baby kicked and the baby kicks again.  

“What are you doing?” I rasp.  

“Playing with my baby.” 

I smile and say, “Could you wait until morning? It’s night time and momma and baby need their sleep.”  

The baby kicks his hand again and we both laugh. “I think he has his nights and days mixed up.” Robert leans in and kisses me before he kisses my belly.  

“I love you both,” he says before rolling over.  

“We love you, too.” 

A few days later, I wake up to Robert’s cell phone ringing. He quickly leaves the room before answering it. “Hey, Bruce,” he says before the door shuts all the way. I assume Bruce is calling because the DNA results are in already. I walk into the bathroom and pray that I am wrong. When I walk back into the bedroom, I can see the scared look in Robert’s eyes.  

“That was Bruce on the phone?” I ask. 

He walks over to me and gently leads me to the bed. I lean into him and he says, “It was. He called to tell us…”  

“The results are in?” I interject.  

“They are. He wants us in his office today at 1:00.” 

“Oh, God,” I say before running off into the bathroom. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach. 

There’s a tap on the door. “Leah?” Robert says before walking in.  

“Robert, please just give me a few minutes?” I ask as I continue to throw up in the toilet. 

He doesn’t leave. When I’m almost done, he hands me a cold, wet washcloth.  

“Thank you,” I say sincerely. 

I flush the toilet, wash my face, and brush my teeth before crawling back into bed. “I can’t do this. I’m not strong enough for this.” I lie in a fetal position and pull the covers up to my chest. 

He lies in bed with me and pulls me into him. “You can do it. We’ll do it together, Leah. You’re not alone.” 

“What if she’s not ours? What if Jamie belongs to someone else?”  

The black cloud is hovering over me. It wants to consume me and I can barely see the light. I close my eyes, thinking that will stop it from consuming me.  

“She belongs to us. She’s our daughter, and as soon as we get the results, we’ll never have to worry about it again,” Robert says.  

I take a deep breath and nod my head. He’s right. She’s our daughter and I know it. I can feel it in my heart. I say, “I want to go to the church before we go see Bruce.” 

Robert showers upstairs while I take a bubble bath. Usually, he would shower downstairs. I’m not doing a good job keeping it together today. I’m trying, but the black cloud is looming over my head. I feel like it’s going to wrap its nasty little tentacles around me and pull me in. I can barely see the light.  

Robert dresses in a black suit with a white shirt and a pink tie. Jamie was just three when she died, but she loved pink. I dress in a black knee-length dress and black heels. I look and feel like I’m in mourning.  

Before we leave, I grab Jamie’s stuffed animal Jack. I hold his fuzzy body to my face and breathe him in. He used to smell like Jamie, but he doesn’t any longer.  

The results are in early, but Robert doesn’t want to call anyone and tell them. He says it’s stressful enough with just the two of us. He’s right. I can’t imagine being around our parents before hearing the results. Everyone’s anxiety level will be high today.  

“Eat this on the way,” Robert says, handing me a granola bar and a bottle of water. 

“I’m not hungry.” 

“Please try for the baby? You haven’t eaten since yesterday.” 

I nod and fasten my seatbelt. “I’ll try the water first. I’m not sure I can hold it down.” 

“Something will be better than nothing.”  

We go to the church and pray. I pray, cry, and pray some more.  

“Leah, we need to go, or we’ll be late.” 

“I don’t care. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to know if Jamie’s our biological daughter or not. It won’t matter, so why do we have to know?” I know I’m irrational and I don’t care. Robert takes a deep breath and runs his hands through his hair. I choke on a sob. I know I’m causing him more pain. I can’t help it.  

He walks over and wraps me in his arms. He bends down and kisses the top of my head as I rest my head on his chest. I wipe away the tears, but they continue to fall. I want to be strong for him, but I can’t. I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to go on and act like everything will be all right.  

“Leah?” Robert says.  

“I know.” We slowly walk out of the church towards Robert’s Hummer.  

We go to the cemetery and visit Jamie. We tell her no matter what, she is our little girl and we will always love her. We drive to Bruce’s office mostly in silence. My sobs are the only noise breaking the silence. I walk into the office through blurred vision. I can barely remember how we got here. Robert and I are led into a conference room. Bruce is already there waiting for us.  

“I’m sorry we’re late, traffic was heavy,” Robert lies.  

“That’s all right. Do you need anything? Leah?” 

I shake my head no. I don’t look at him or say anything. I can’t see through the tears. 

“No, thank you,” Robert says as he pulls out a chair for me to sit on.  

When we are both seated, Bruce says, “I haven’t opened these yet.” I look at him; he is holding up two manilla envelopes. “We have the results from the hospital and also the results from Mason and Alec’s office. Once we have the results, then we’ll discuss a game plan if we need one.”  

I nod, again. I swallow the lump in my throat. I can’t talk.  

“Are you ready?” Bruce asks.  

Robert holds my hand and says, “We are.” 

My hands are sweaty and my knees are shaking up and down. Robert tries to slow the movement of my knees with his hands, but it doesn’t work. I hear the sound of the envelope from the hospital
opening and I still. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. Then he opens the envelope from Mason and Alec’s office. I wait for what feels like hours before Bruce speaks. I hear him say, “I’m sorry.” I scream. I don’t hear anything else. I already know what the results are. If she were our daughter, he wouldn’t have started a sentence off with, “I’m sorry.”  

He continues, “Jamie is not your biological child.”

Please follow Robert and Leah’s story in
Against the Odds, Round Two
: of
The Fighting to Survive Trilogy
. 
 

Books by Brenda Kennedy

Other books written by this author include: 

The
Starting Over
Trilogy
 

Book One:
A New Beginning
 

Book Two:
Saving Angel
 

Book Three:
Destined to Love
 

The Freedom
Trilogy
 

Book One:
Shattered Dreams
 

Book Two:
Broken Lives 
 

Book Three:
Mending Hearts
 

A Life Worth Fighting, is Round One of
The Fighting to Survive Trilogy. 
 

Round One:
A Life Worth Fighting
 

Round Two:
Against the Odds…
coming in 2015 

Round Three:
One Last Fight
…coming in 2015 

Note

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Disclaimer: People and places in this book have been used fictitiously and without malice.