That Ship Has Sailed

She sat in the clinic sobbing, struggling to catch her breath. Julie had just told her husband that she was finally pregnant three days ago. They were both so happy. She even waited 2 weeks until she couldn't bare to keep her bubbling elation a secret any longer. Julie wanted to make sure it was safe, before she told James about the baby. Last time nearly destroyed them.

James sat beside her in somber silence. He didn't know what else to do except hold her hand. He looked at her falling apart beside him knowing what was to come. Another loss. Another failed attempt. He wanted to take her pain away but he was consumed with too many other emotions. James remained silent, but water started falling from his eyes beyond his control. He held Julie's had as if it were a life preserver, a flotation device, something that would save him from the depths of grief he knew were to follow.

Julie looked at James and just squeezed his hand harder because that was all she could do. She couldn't speak, or even breathe. She saw his face glistening with tears underneath the harsh, blinking florescent lights. She wanted to take his pain away, but she knew it wasn't possible. It was almost as if she was outside of herself watching them both dissolve into their separate realms of sadness. The only thing tethering them together were their clasped hands, turning white, as they clung to one another.

Would they survive this? Last time , they were further along in the pregnancy, and the horrific memories just came flooding back. Maybe this time it was early enough to save the baby. Julie wasn't even ten weeks along yet. Nine at the most. But somehow she just knew they were wasting their time here. They should have gone to the ER first, but Julie just wasn't ready to give up yet.

It was totally irrational, but she thought coming to this clinic first would delay the inevitable tragedy they were about to face for the third time. Maybe these doctors could save them from going through this devastation yet again. They had both agreed that if she miscarried again, it would be the last time they'd try for a baby. They would discuss pursuing other avenues....like adopting a lot of dogs.

They had been trying for over a year, and this was the beginning of what was most definitely their third miscarriage. James wanted to go directly to the emergency room, but Julie insisted they come here first. She had some false hope that if they went to the Urgent Care clinic first, maybe they'd say the bleeding wasn't anything to worry about. Maybe it would be fine. James knew nothing was fine, but he wanted to give her hope, so he took her there because he didn't know what else to do. He also had some sliver of hope that she might be right, but he knew that they both knew this was the last time.

How stupid and stubborn could she be, she thought, as her body shook as she wept. Julie knew the physical pain all too well, and the amount of blood wasn't something to be brushed aside. Still, she wanted to be examined here first before she was told what she already knew to be true. This was the last time.

As she looked around the oddly stark room, she observed the messy display of pamphlets, outdated magazines, the other sick and ailing patients, yet one this stood out to her. It was the only decoration on the wall that wasn't an medical poster or drug advert.

It was a very sad, yellowed and dingy watercolor of a sailboat making its way through rough waters. It was crooked and needed a good dusting, but it still hung there, all alone, amidst the chaos happening around it. It was hanging there by a thread, as the once vibrantly painted ship sailed into the storm.

How ironic, Julie thought. Our ship has sailed as far as our attempts to create another human. And here this lonely painting hangs, that nobody probably notices, but the ship has no choice but to be forever depicted fighting the good fight, heading strait into the storm.

No matter how dusty, grimy or faded this paining becomes, that ship will always be doing what the artist depicted it doing. Weathering the storm for centuries to come. Never giving up. Refusing to sink and stay afloat despite the odds.

Julie turned to look at James. She saw him trying to be strong for her, She saw him heading into this storm with her. She saw his face wet with tears and she realized her hand was starting to go numb because they were clinging to each other so tightly. She took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled a lions breath.

Oh My God, JULIE...are you okay? Should I call the nurse?

Julie looked at him. Tears were streaming down her face, and she brought his hand to her lips so she could kiss his knuckles. Looking into his cloudy green, blood shot eyes, much like her own, she took one more deep breath.

No. I'm ready to go. I know this is the last time. I'm ready for you to take me to the ER. Let's go. But please, don't let go of me hand. whatever you do, don't let go of my hand. I need you to help me through this.

James looked into her eyes with all the sorrow, loss and feelings of a failure but also with love and understanding. He too knew this was the last time, but he was just waiting for her to tell him she was ready to accept it. Tears just poured out of their eyes as they looked at one another and acknowledged the end of their 17 month journey.

Okay, James said. I promise I wont let go. I love you. We can do this together. I'm here for you.

Julie took one last glance at the crusty old painting on the wall. The cheap paint was starting to peel and flake off. Despite the fading color for such an old painting and the decaying paper it was painted on, that boat still faced the rough waters ahead with courage. As long as she had James, Julie could be that boat too.

He was right. They had done it twice before, and the only way either of them could make it through this travesty again, for a final time, was facing it together.

Do you want to wait here while I get the car?

No, she said

Please don't let go of my hand. I need you,