22
HEY, READER! GUESS WHAT! Pregnancysucks! Especially at this late in the game. In the words of one very wise woman, Leslie Knope, “Everything hurts, and I’m dying.”
I knew about the infamous back pain long before I found myself in this situation, but honestly, its reputation did it absolutely no justice. Oh also, this baby is giving meinternalpressure soreson my ribsbecause of how she’s sitting right now. I didn’t think such an ailment existed, and I’m honestly impressed right now. And did you know that the “pregnancy waddle” is actually a result of extreme hip and pelvic pain? Well it is for me! I’ve been told this is a result of my bones and ligaments adjusting to make way for the baby, but it actually feels like someone took a mallet to my lady balls. Repeatedly. Also, I’m super hungry, but I can’t even eat that much because there’s barely any room left for my stomach to accommodate actual food.
I have approximately ten weeks left of this, and I could cry.
Not to mention, I’m not sleeping very well either. And because I’m not sleeping very well, I was awake at three in the morning when I got a really ominous text message from Colin. And then he ignored every attempt I made to get a clarification, opting to send me a baby name suggestion instead.
I actually really like the name Audrey, now that I’ve been thinking about it all morning. I’ve always loved Audrey Hepburn because she overcame so much adversity and then later became a Goodwill Ambassador for UNICEF. People forget that part. She wasn’t just a pretty face and a fashion icon, though I like that about her, too.
Anyway, lack of sleep causes me to ramble. I’ve already decided I’m only going in to work long enough this morning to get my ducks in a row, and then I’m going back home to take a nap.
It only takes about thirty minutes to return phone calls and reply to emails, and then another fifteen to look over my schedule for the rest of the week. With Archer still missing, I’m only handling two cases right now, and that makes my workload pretty light. I refresh my email one more time, and then start filing away folders when Georgia taps on the doorframe to my office.
“How are you feeling today, honey?” she asks, leaning against the doorframe while holding a small stack of forms.
I sit up straight in my chair and rub the side of my ribs. “I’m okay. I only got about three hours of sleep, so I was going to go back home after sorting out a few things for the week. Is that okay?”
Georgia offers a slow nod as she moseys into the office and sits down. “Of course. You should take it easy when you can.” She waggles the forms at me. “You know at this stage, stress can actually cause you to go into labor, and we want that little bun to bake as long as possible.”
I smile, but the expression on her face isn’t exactly pleased. “Is everything okay?”
She hesitates before setting the forms on my side of the desk. “Archer’s brother called early this morning and terminated his treatment.”
My eyes widen and I swallow, recalling the ominous text message from three in the morning.
I don’t want you to feel like you failed him. The choices he’s made despite that progress are his own. This isn’t your fault.
I have a tendency to go to the worst-case scenario, and I’m suddenly wondering if Georgia’s about to tell me that Archer overdosed or killed himself.
“Did he say why?” I manage.
Georgia presses her smooth lips together and then releases them. “Archer was arrested over the weekend and charged with drug possession with the intent to distribute.”
If I were standing, the information would have knocked me down at the knees. Since I’m already in a chair, I sink backward against it and slump. “Are you serious?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” she says soberly. “He’s in police custody and waiting to go before a judge. After that, he’ll more than likely go to prison for a few years. So…” She lifts her shoulders to her earlobes and lets them fall. “There’s nothing we can do for him anymore.”
A boulder-sized lump surges to the top of my throat, strangling me and making me feel like I have even less lung capacity than usual. I drag in a labored breath as I sit up straight in an effort to give myself more room to breathe. Georgia plainly sees my sudden struggle and stands up, crossing around to my side of the desk, where she picks up both of my wrists and holds my arms above my head.
“Take a nice slow, deep breath, Elle,” she murmurs, and I try, but my airway still feels obstructed by the rock in my throat. She sets both of my hands on top of my head and then places her hands on my cheeks. “Just cry, honey. Trying not to is only going to suffocate you.”
So I do. It comes out in guttural, shoulder-shaking wails and sobs, and there’s an actual physical pain in my heart.
“You did a good job with him, Elle,” Georgia continues to murmur, now wiping my cheeks with a tissue. “You did a really good job. You did as much as you could, and you both managed to accomplish a lot together in a short period of time. He just hadn’t found his rock bottom yet. This is probably it, so the only place left for him to go is up. And I promise you, as he works on going up, he’s going to remember everything you did for him, and he’ll be grateful and motivated and equipped to do right moving forward.”
It’s a nice sentiment, but it feels hollow knowing how disappointed in himself Archer must be, and how Colin must be…
He texted me at three in the morning about this. He needed someone to talk to. He needed support. He wanted it from me, but I erected all those boundaries months ago.
And even amidst something that I know feels like the worst thing that’s ever happened to him, he still honored those boundaries.
With this awful turn-of-events, the boundaries suddenly seem stupid and pointless. Initially, half the reason was to keep from complicating things with Archer’s case. Now that’s no longer a thing. Now the only remaining half is the fact that Colin has been such a two-faced asshole to me that I really didn’t want to do this whole co-parenting thing with him. But he hasn’t been a two-faced asshole in a really long time, and now I know the reason he was that way in the first place was the fact that he was trapped in a codependent relationship. In fact, by this point, he’s been kind and respectful and thoughtful for far longer than he was a two-faced asshole.
Sonow… I’m ready to throw those boundaries to the wind. Because not only are they no longer relevant, I also just want to be there for him.
I meet Georgia’s eyes as she continues to dab my cheeks. “Is it okay if I go home?”
