straight back to it ⇉ central cee.

an empty crib.

When Shanel miscarried their daughter at the start of March, it'd absolutely torn Oakley apart. He'd been on mood stabilisers since he was admitted to rehab and found episodes of pure anger or sadness were far and few after that, but not even a daily dose of pink capsules could save him from the ditch a miscarriage threw him down. Shanel had been distraught too - naturally - having been the one to experience personally all the pain and the mess but it didn't affect her nearly as much as her other half. Despite all his fears about fatherhood he was so excited to welcome a little bundle of joy into the world, he made a promise to himself and the baby in Shanel's stomach that he'd break the toxic cycle his dad and grandad had built before him because he'd never forgive himself if he treated his child the way he was treated. They'd found out it was a girl pretty early on as they'd gone private obviously, and Oakley was over the bloody moon by the news. Of course, he'd have loved a soon too, a little boy to make a mini-me of but he'd been praying for a daughter from the day he knew she was pregnant. He planned to spoil her rotten with every toy and piece of clothing she could ever wish for, to take her to Disneyland as soon as she was old enough and love her more than words could even express. It was all set out in his mind: their future, their family home, the wedding, all of that jazz; he hadn't felt this much joy in all twenty-four years of living. So just as he was having an all-time high, an all-time low hit right on the nose. The sudden drop reminded him of how drugs treated you - the highest highs and lowest lows - and now it was natural he wondered why he ever enjoyed this way of living. If this had happened to him a year ago his first instinct would be to turn to a substance, anything he could get his hands on really, to numb the pain just for a bit even if he hated the come down afterwards, a little bit of bliss got him through the day without thinking of taking a blade to his throat and he was happy with that. He'd be lying if he hadn't considered it that night though. Therapy and rehab may have done a lot for him, taught him how to fight the urges and fix himself up when he needed to but he was still an addict deep down. The itching never really went, he just learned how to not pander it. Times like these are what made the itching almost unbearable and ignorance felt like it wasn't an option - the only thing in the way of him was being there for Shanel.

It'd happened in the night. Oakley woke up suddenly to find Shanel wasn't beside him and the sound of the bathroom tap running down the hall. He was a little bit scared but mostly confused and naturally went to investigate the sound and his girlfriend's whereabouts, which was obviously the bathroom. He found her crying and washing her shaking hands and he remained confused until he saw the blood. It'd soaked her pyjamas, a lot of it too. Much more than he'd ever imagined to come of what he immediately knew was a miscarriage. He was still in shock for a moment far too long and it seemed the girl hadn't even noticed as she continued to scrub her hands and sob until he turned the tap off from behind and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"It's alright darlin..."

It wasn't alright at all, nothing was alright about this, but he just wanted her to calm down so that it'd make the whole process of seeking help a lot easier. They went back to the bedroom so he could grab his phone and call the midwife who luckily picked up quickly. The process after was long and gruelling, with so many tests and different doctors coming in and out. At first, they'd suspected it was just a simple bleed that sometimes happened in pregnancy when he first called the midwife, but after seeing the amount of blood the idea was quickly cancelled out. Oakley didn't really have time to process that they'd physically lost the child either until days after because he was so busy signing forms and taking care of Shanel, it didn't hit until they got home and he saw the crib he'd built with his brothers the week before. The doctors kept her in for a few days to monitor her as she'd lost such a large amount of blood and as the results of tests came through. She'd barely had a moment's peace without tears tumbling down her face that day, and Oakley was so panicked he didn't have time for it himself even though he knew it probably would've been beneficial. All she wanted was to be left alone for a while so she could process it but every time she thought she'd gotten some respite a new nurse appeared from behind the curtains again and the man would be left to console her until the next one. He hadn't ever been so tired in his life, which was quite the feat considering the days on end he'd spend awake high and in some back alley when he was a teen. It was a whole load of trauma and emotional baggage he had to let go of in therapy, and it'd been a huge setback for his progress. Amanda had felt so bad having to ask him about it but it was her job to help him and he needed to let it out even if it pained him. Nowadays he tried not to think about it too much, it's always in the back of his mind because all the stuff they bought for their child is still in the loft or hidden in the back of the wardrobe - he couldn't bare to let it go. His brothers had come over to help dismantle the crib over a month later, they knew he was grieving and didn't want to stir it but they knew it'd never get done otherwise, even offered to find someone who needed a crib but they couldn't bare it. He had a tattoo in memory too; it was small and not very obvious, just a little scribble that resembled a baby's face. It was hidden amongst the others, so he wasn't met with a constant reminder of the heartbreak but he still held the memories of his daughter. The emotions were still raw, and that's why he never told Michaela about it. Not to mention Shanel never once brought it up again after she got over the crying, he couldn't imagine she'd want people knowing about it.

When Michaela called him over because she had some news a week after seeing him last, he hadn't expected to have it all flood back again. It'd taken a lot of courage for her to even consider telling him about it let alone actually do it, and his reaction made none of it seem worth it. He'd regretted it so much, just up and leaving after hearing such a thing because he knew it was going to hurt her but he couldn't just sit there. He was far too overwhelmed with emotions and questions and all the memories from march coming back he had to go.

"I'm pregnant Oaks"

She'd whispered it, he'd barely even caught it but when he did he'd frozen and looked in the opposite direction before immediately standing, slamming the front door on the way out. He hadn't even gone far, just went to sit in his car which Kayla quickly discovered as she stood in the doorway and watched him with tears rolling down her face. She waited for the motor to rev and for him to speed off but it never came and he just sat there staring into the van parked in front of him deathly still. The girl watched as he aggressively wiped at his face every so often with the sleeves of his jumper as she did the same, smudging her makeup across her face so much it was completely unfixable. Oakley wished he'd just told her about the lost baby ages ago because maybe this wouldn't have hurt as much, she'd understand and wouldn't be so hurt by him storming out and he wouldn't feel so guilty for doing it. But as he sat in his car with silent tears bursting past the floodgates a thousand thoughts were running through his head and the only stick-out one was how much this was going to damage Michaela. He swore he'd never do it again, make her cry or leave her in the dark like he always used to do. Here he was though, doing exactly what he promised he wouldn't. If only she knew before she'd told him, because he wouldn't be apologising and reliving all the trauma again on her sofa, accidentally installing fear in her of her own fate with pregnancy. Even give her flashes of the past when he was crying on her sofa because his friend died and he thought it was all his fault.

What can you do now though, except try to make amends and pull yourself through?