Losing Me Finding You (30 page)

20 October 2008

Thirty-two years old

“But what happens when she's born?” I ask.

Ben smiles at me. “Then we have a daughter, Evie,” he says, half laughing as his fingers run up the underside of my foot, tickling me and causing me to gently kick him in the stomach. We’re sitting on the couch and my feet are in Ben’s lap as he rubs them for me. I have one month to go and I am absolutely petrified.

“But what if…” and I'm afraid to ask, to even finish the question.

“She’s due in November, baby, a whole month of regular days,” he says pulling me into his arms now. “And it’s nowhere near a leap year. We have three more years until that happens again.”

I kinda love that he knows what I’m asking, and he's right, it's still three more years until the next leap year and her due date is nowhere near February. But she was conceived on a leap year and she survived, she came with me. I’ve never been able to bring anything with me and that’s what scares me more than anything. Why did she come with me?

“I know,” I eventually say, my head resting against Ben’s shoulder. “I’m just scared because she came with me, when nothing else ever does.” I glance down at my fingers, at the wedding band that was all Ben had left of me last time. God, the idea of her disappearing from my arms, of me disappearing from her side. Of Ben losing us both. I can’t even think about that.

“She went with you,” Ben says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Because she is a part of you, a permanent part of you, baby.”

“Yeah,” I say, knowing it’s the only explanation I have too. “But you know when we made her?” I whisper, glancing up him now.

Ben’s lips press against the side of my neck as his hand slides onto my huge stomach and gently rubs it. “Yeah, I know.”

Neither of us says anything, because right now, I don’t think either of us knows what we can possibly say. We are both thinking the same thing. She might not be born on the day that cursed me, but she was created then, and what that means for her, nobody knows. I’m too afraid to even think of the possibilities.

“Oww,” I suddenly say as our unborn baby gives an almighty kick against my stomach, right where Ben’s hand is resting.

Ben laughs. “I don’t think she likes us talking about this,” he says, his hand rubbing my belly again.

I smile. “Yeah, maybe not.”

“It will be okay, Evie,” Ben says.

“How do you know?” I ask him, my head still resting on his shoulder as I look up at him.

He nuzzles my neck again and this time his whiskers tickle my skin, making me laugh as I squirm away from him. “Because I just do,” he tells me, tightening his arm around my shoulder.

“But you don’t know,” I say, laughing even though this isn’t a laughing matter. Now it’s his lips pressing against my skin, then it’s his whiskers, then his lips. He’s teasing me, trying to distract me and he knows it. “Ben!” I say, not sure if I can take much more.

“What?” he says, laughing as he finally stops. His arm still holds me tightly against him, his other hand resting on my stomach.

“How do you know?” I finally ask, my voice a whisper.

Ben takes a deep breath, exhaling against my skin. “I don’t,” he finally says. “But we’ve made it this far, baby, and I have to believe she will too.”

30th November 2008

Thirty-two years old

“One more,” the doctor says to me and I’m thinking if she asks for
one more,
one more time, I’m actually going to punch her in the face. I’m pissed, I’m hurting, and I don’t want to be fucking doing this. As I look down, I can see my doctor. She’s smiling at me like this is the greatest thing in the world as she perches between my legs and sticks her face in the one part of me that only Ben should be sticking his face in. And all she can say is fucking
push
.

My head falls back on the pillow as I decide, that’s it, I’m done. I’m officially not doing this anymore, because it just hurts too fucking much.

“Come on, baby,” Ben says, squeezing my hand. “Not much more.”

“Fuck you,” I breathe out, my voice barely audible.

“Is that a request or a promise?” Ben whispers, leaning in to kiss my forehead.

My eyes briefly close. “You know this is all your fault, don’t you?” I say.

I hear Ben laugh. “Yeah I figured that was the case,” he says. “But come on, one more. For me, please?”

What else can I do, I push.

And then none of this matters anymore. Because then we hear her.

Our baby.

Crying.

And it is the most beautiful noise in the world.

“And here she is,” Dr Anderson, the woman I was ready to strangle two seconds ago, suddenly says. “A beautiful baby girl.”

I exhale loudly, my head trying to lift off the pillow.

“You ready to hold her?” she asks us.

I finally lift my head and see her. Our baby, our perfect little baby. I turn to look at Ben, but he’s staring at her and he’s looking at her with so much love, it makes my heart hurt.

“Evie?” Dr Anderson asks me.

I swallow. “Yes,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Ben…hold her?”

He turns to me, gives me the same look he just gave our daughter as he leans in and kisses my lips. “We have a baby girl,” he whispers and then he’s reaching out as Dr Anderson places her in his arms.

Ben sits on the bed next to me, holding her in his arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world. My heart melts at the sight of my big strong husband, holding this tiny little baby. He’s so gentle and relaxed with her as he gently runs his fingers over her jet-black hair.

“She looks just like you,” he says, his lips on my forehead.

I laugh. “I kinda think she looks like you,” I say, my fingers reaching out to touch her hair before my hand cradles her tiny head.

Ben swings his legs up so he’s lying beside me on the bed. “She’s beautiful,” he whispers.

“Yeah,” I say, turning to kiss him. “She sure is.”

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” Ben asks, his head on my shoulder now as we both cradle our daughter between us.

I laugh. “Yeah, Ben, you are.” My fingers gently brush over the thick hair she already has. I hope her eyes are blue, just like Ben’s. “What are we going to call her?” I ask him, knowing we’ve never really discussed it.

Ben’s fingers gently stroke down her cheek and I watch as her lips suck for a second before she settles. I know right then, in that instant watching her react to his touch, she’s going to be a total daddy’s girl.

“What about Lucia?” Ben asks, turning to face me.

“Lucia?” I ask, wondering where this has come from.

Ben smiles at me, his fingers gently brushing my hair back from my face. “Yeah, Lucia,” he whispers. “It means
light
.”

I smile as I realise it’s the most perfect name in the world, our tiny ray of light. “It’s perfect,” I say.

30th March 2009

Thirty-three years old

I’m sitting on the couch by the window. Lucia is lying on my chest as my feet rest on the coffee table. It is a beautiful day, the start of spring and as the sun shines in, I hold my hand to the light, stare at the band of diamonds Ben bought me. It was a gift after Lucia was born and I wear it next to my wedding ring.

“She sleeping?” he asks, as he gently slides in next to me on the couch, putting two cups of tea on the coffee table.

I glance down. “Yeah, sound asleep,” I say turning to kiss him.

Ben deepens the kiss, his hand sliding into my hair and holding me to him, just like he always does. “Want me to take her?” he asks and I can’t help but smile. She might be a total daddy’s girl, but she definitely has him wrapped around her little finger.

“I’m okay, thanks,” I say.

Ben smiles as he drapes his arm across the back of the couch and around my shoulders, his other hand gently stroking Lucia’s black hair.

“What are you thinking about?” he says, catching me looking at my rings again.

I turn to smile at him. “I was thinking I had an idea,” I say. “An idea for how I can remember you. How I can make it happen straightaway.”

Ben tilts his head in confusion and I laugh, my knuckles brushing his cheek. He catches them in his hand and threads our fingers together, resting our joined hands in his lap. “How?”

“Well, you said last time, when I disappeared, you were left with nothing but my wedding ring in your hand, right?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

“Well, when I woke up the next day, I remember noticing an indent on that finger, as though a ring had been there, had always been there. It didn’t trigger my memories of you, but I do remember noticing it.”

“Really?” Ben asks, looking even more confused.

I nod. “Yeah, I’ve always had little things like that, thoughts and feelings before I actually remember you. Mostly, they are just a bunch of memories that are fighting to get to the surface, but somehow they never do.”

“I didn’t know that,” Ben says. “And they never trigger anything?”

I shake my head. “No, they’re more like dreams that wake you up in the middle of the night. When they do, you always know you’ve dreamt something good or scary or whatever, but no matter how hard you try, you can never remember the actual dream or what it was about,” I explain.

“Okay,” Ben says, still confused. “So how is this going to help you remember me?”

“Well,” I say smiling as I glance down at Lucia still sleeping on my chest. “Permanent things, or things that become a permanent part of me seem to move with me.”

“Right,” Ben confirms.

I turn to look at him again. “Well, she became a part of me last time, didn’t she? She was a permanent part of me that we created, that we
made
happen, and then she came with me.”

“Yeah,” Ben says and I can see the faintest trace of a smile starting on his face, letting me know he knows exactly where I’m going with all this.

“So, I was thinking, if my…”

Ben laughs. “If your ring was a permanent thing too, it would also go with you?” he says finishing my sentence.

“Yeah,” I say, smiling at him. “I think it probably would, don’t you?”

Ben leans in and presses a hard kiss to my lips. “Baby, I think that’s a fantastic idea.”

8th May 2009

Thirty-three years old

“You’re sure about this?” Ben asks, squeezing my hand as we walk into the shop.

I nod, positive this is going to work. “Yep,” I say to him.

“Because it’s definitely permanent,” Ben tells me as we reach the counter.

“I know,” I say. “But that’s the whole point, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Ben says. “But you also need to be sure about what you’re getting, you’re gonna carry it around with you forever, you know.”

I smile at him. “Oh, I intend on keeping it forever,” I say, wrapping my arm around his waist as a guy smiles at us both across the counter.

“Here for some tattoos?” he says.

“Yep, I am,” I say to him. “Evie Foster, I had an appointment for ten.”

The guy consults his book and then looks at us. “I’ve got an Evie and Ben Foster here, you getting one too buddy?”

I turn to Ben, who’s smiling at the guy. “Yeah, I am.”

“You are?” I ask, confused.

Ben pulls me against him as he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “If you’re getting one, baby, then I’m getting one.”

I laugh as I wonder when he made this decision.

“Alright then,” the guy says. “We’ll do yours first,” he adds, gesturing to me.

We both walk behind the counter to the chair the guy has set up in a back alcove. Everything looks clean and neat and the walls are covered in hundreds of designs and photos.

“So what am I doing?” he asks me.

I slide my rings off, moving them to my right hand as I take a seat in the chair. “I need you to tattoo the name
Ben
on my ring finger,” I tell him.

“That’s it?” he asks.

I nod. “That’s all I need.”

“Okay, black I assume?”

“Yep and big.” I need it to stand out.

The tattoo takes all of two minutes and doesn’t really hurt much. It kind of feels like little cat scratches and it’s more uncomfortable trying to keep my other fingers out of the way really. Once he’s done, I hold my hand up, admiring my now permanent wedding ring, which is actually Ben’s name wrapped around my finger. There’s no way I won’t notice this and I smile as I think, we aren’t ever going to lose each other again.

“And you?” the guy asks Ben.

I watch as he takes the seat I was just in, sliding his own thick wedding band off and holding his hand out. “I need you to give me the same thing, only with the name
Evie
instead,” he says, turning to look at me.

I bite my bottom lip as I stare down at him, knowing he doesn’t need any kind of permanent mark to ever remember me, but he’s getting one anyway. Ben tilts his head, as if to ask whether I’m okay with what he’s doing and I find myself nodding as I mouth the words,
thank you
to him. Ben reaches out with his right hand and slides it around my waist and pulls me closer. I wrap my arms around his neck and lean in to kiss the top of his head, still not understanding how it is I got so lucky with this guy.