Straight To You

three

The news effected all of us, but it hit Mom the hardest.

I think we all knew the truth deep down, but Mom never wanted to believe it. Not when she started losing weight. Not when the morning sickness disappeared. Not even when she lost her appetite. The reality of it all didn't sink in until the doctor told her what we all knew, and even then she refused to believe the truth.

Mom was never the same after she lost the baby. We were all disappointed and hurt, but Mom took the loss to a personal level. I remember hearing her sobs late at night, the words she would wail to my father when they thought I was asleep.

"I'm a failure," Mom would mutter through her tears. "I failed."

"Honey, no," Dad would counter in an attempt to console her. "This is not your fault. It is not your fault. Don't take this out on yourself. The doctor told us it would be a risk."

After the news, Mom lived in a daze. It was like watching time move in slow motion. She would be fine one minute, then she would stop what she was doing and walk into the living room. She'd sit in the rocking chair and just rock back and forth for what felt like hours. Then she would look up, as if remembering she had something to do. She'd pull herself out of the chair, go back to what she was doing before, and the cycle would start all over again.

Purpose is an important thing for a person to have. Without it, what are we even doing here? I think that's what happened to my mother. Her purpose was to do just that—mother. Then she lost a baby, and that hit home. She thought she'd failed her purpose, and that hurt her more than anything in this world ever could.

I knew Mom's depression took a toll on Dad. Watching the person you love slowly fade into a stranger can't be easy at all. He never stopped loving her, though. He was her rock, and she was his.

It was confusing for me, what happened to Mom. I was ten, so I understood what was happening at the same time I didn't. Mom was sad, and it was up to me to make things better. Only, I never could. So, in a way, I've always felt like I failed, too.

Things stayed that way for a few years. Mom would fade in and out of reality, it seemed. She'd be the person she once was, and then she'd be a statue, an emotionless stranger. I thought things would go back to normal. That was the one thing that always kept me going as I watched my mother rock herself back and forth in that stupid rocking chair. It's going to be okay, I would think. Normal. Soon, everything will be normal.

I couldn't have been more wrong. Instead, everything changed all over again. It was like the world was playing a cruel joke on me, giving me false hope just so it could see my face when my life turned upside down.

When I was thirteen, I woke one Saturday morning and went through my usual routine, getting ready for the day. I went downstairs to check on Mom, who would always be in the rocking chair. She spent more time in that chair than she spent doing anything else.