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“A little over a month ago, my friend experienced one of the worst things an expectant mom can go through. A miscarriage.
Her otherwise perfect, three-month long pregnancy ended in a blood bath and violent contractions, with her having to say goodbye to a lifeless version of her daughter Rebecca. She didn’t tell me until a week later.
I’ve only been able to visit her once since then given that we now live four hours apart from one another. The day I was able to see her, she fell apart in my arms. Her words ‘She’s gone! My baby is gone!’ will forever ring in my head. I have never seen someone so distraught in my entire life.
She no longer looked like herself, but a sleepless, hollowed-out version of my friend. She was truly a walking zombie. My heart broke to pieces for her.
This past month has been extremely difficult for her, and understandably so. Her husband has tried to get her to go out and do things to take her mind off of the pain, but she’s politely declined each time. She just isn’t ready to face the outside world. She goes to work and then home, and then work and home again. That’s it. He’s been there to cry with her every step of the way.
This story originally appeared on Love What Matters.
Last Tuesday, I received a text message from her husband. It read, ‘I think you need to do something about Rita. It’s bad. She’s not sleeping. Not even eating. Nothing I do is helping. She really needs a friend. Please help me.’
So, I did just that.
I took off work and took a four-hour drive down to her house. While she was at work, I cleaned her entire house. I died a little inside when I saw all the toys she bought for Rebecca spread around the house.
I put fresh flowers in her bedroom and on her kitchen counter. I also baked her favorite dessert. Apple biscuit pie. Her husband knew, but we kept it all a secret from her.
When she got home, I was laid out on the couch. As soon as she door opened, her eyes welled with tears. She looked around at her spotless house and cried even harder. Once again, she was weak in my arms. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered in my hear. I told her not to worry about it and that I loved her so much. Weak and soft, she whispered sweetly in my ear once more. ‘Thank you.’
That afternoon I combed and braided her hair, the same way I used to do when we were back in college. We ate our pie slices (probably too much) and watched our favorite movies. She wanted to watch Legally Blonde twice in a row and you BET your girl watched it twice. No ifs, ands, or buts. She curled up close to me, her head on my shoulders almost the entire time. My heart was so full.
When I left the following morning, I gifted her a silver bracelet. On the back of it was an inscribed word. ‘Rebecca.’ I saw a flicker of light in her eyes. She thanked me once more. ‘You always know just what a need.’
I told her not to thank me. This is just what friends do.”
This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Katie of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
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