I was a sobbing mess. I sat on the couch and stared out the window trying to divert
my mind to another place. The phone rang again. I clenched my fists as Graham
answered. It was my dad.
“Kersey, your dad called and apologized.” he said, rubbing my back.
“I don’t care anymore. Why can’t she just accept the fact that I can’t change
this? Why is she tormenting me like this?” I sobbing into Graham’s open arms.
“It will be okay, baby. I promise. Don’t even think about your mom anymore.
We can do this all ourselves. We’ll make it work.” he said running his fingers through
my hair. I closed my eyes and took a deep, quivering breath.
A thousand thoughts were swirling through my head the following weeks.
Thoughts about the babies, my mom, my dad, us. Everything. I slept very rarely,
maybe 3 hours a night. Even now, two months later, I can’t seem to grasp those
thoughts and get them out of my head.
The phone rang. It was my doctor’s nurse, reminding me that my 4 month
check up was today at four. I also had a meeting with the counselor, who was
helping a lot.