"Mom," I whisper as I sit on the floor up against the bed. My knees bent, elbows resting on top of them as I thread my fingers through my hair and try to hold back my sob. "Please help me," I look up at the ceiling as I say the words. Tears streaming down my face but I can't stop. I clench them shut and lick away some of the saltiness that run past my lips.
I hate when I have days like this. Days where it really sinks in. Days where I feel so lost and alone.
The sound of sheets rustling have me glancing over my shoulder but Izobel is still asleep. I look at my baby girl, arms spread out above her head, mouth hung open while her chest rises and falls with every loud breath. She's kicked her legs out from under the blanket and her nightgown has risen up, her paw patrol undies peaking out. A part of me wants to laugh but then there's that deep ache that hits me right in the chest. That soul burning feeling that has me crumbing.
I swallow it down as I get up and adjust my little girl. I pull down her nightgown, put the blanket back on her, place her stuffed animal next to her and readjust the pillow blocking her from falling off the bed before I walk out of the room. Heading straight for the couch I barely make it before I collapse onto it in a heap of tears.
My silent sobs rack through me as I bend in half and cry into the cushions. I want to scream at the top of my lungs but I can't. I won't.
I grip the cushions in my fists as sob after sob too through me silently. The tears soaking the fabric, my face so close that I'm practically biting it. Inhaling it.
After a few minutes I finally pull it together. My breaths easing out into something more controllable until I'm able to sit up and wipe my eyes. The tears are still there, they're still running down my face. Slowly this time but I'm not falling apart anymore.
I suck in a deep breath before shaking my head. "What do I do? I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to pick the right thing. Not just for me but for her," I whisper into the darkness.
Glancing up at the ceiling once more I say, "tell me what to do. Show me a sign. Something!" I shake my head again biting my lip to hold back the choke that wants out.
I clench my eyes shut, squeezing so tight spots start to form behind my eyelids. "She never got to meet you. Never got to meet lil, or deb," more tears run down my face as I think about how they'll never get to see my babygirl. Never get to be apart of her life. She'll never get to hear their voices or know how much they would have loved her. How much they loved me. Or how much I loved them. She'll never know her family because I lost all of them.
Looking back up at the ceiling I ask, "how do I choose? And how do I know what's the right choice?" I shake my head and try to wipe away the tears once more but they just keep coming.
"You know, sometimes I feel like such a horrible
Mom. I look at my little girl and think to myself she deserves so much better than me, she deserves so much more than I can give her, but then she'll do something. Something little like laugh or smile or come tell me about her day and I think I'm so lucky to have this because without her I wouldn't be me. I'd be lost. Gone. I would've given up."
I hold back another sob but a small hiccup escapes. "She saved me and she doesn't even know it. But how do I make sure that I'm giving her the best life I can? Because she deserves that and so much more. I want her to be loved, feel loved but I'm so torn." I swallow down the thickness taking over my throat.
"She's gotten used to Jeremiah and his kids. She has friends. She still thinks he's just a friend and that's ok but she's comfortable with them and that makes me happy but if we go with him, if we move, she'd be giving up her life. She'd be giving up her other friends that she's made here. She wouldn't be seeing Chris everyday, who she calls uncle by the way," I let out a little sigh, "but she also wouldn't get the chance to know Jesse. To be in jesse's life," I glance up at the ceiling, "to know you guys through jesse's eyes."
And that right there is what it all comes down to. I thought I had everything figured out until Jesse showed up a few days ago at the diner. I thought I was finally going to take a leap of faith and see where things would lead with Jeremiah, go with him but the second I heard jesses voice. The second I saw him. Something screamed inside of me don't go. And I swore it sounded like lily.
Jeremiah is packed and ready to go and I'm still here going back and forth with what to do. He called me again today and asked me for my decision, told me that I could take a bit to think about it and come when I'm ready. But...when will I be ready? Will I be ready?
The only thing that keeps running through my head is: what's best for my daughter. Do we keep the life we have here? Where she adjusts to her friends leaving and gets to truly meet Jesse? Or do I pack us up and leave everything else behind and follow Jeremiah and see what happens? All of the possibilities of both sides fill my head but all I want to do is what's right. For her and for me.
But that's the worst part because I don't know what's right. And I have no one to help me figure it out.
"Help me," I whisper again before I wipe away the tears and walk back into the room to go to sleep with my baby girl beside me.
