Bared Souls - Ellie Wade Page 0,90
I’m still riding the recovering from surgery lazy train for a little bit longer.
“We haven’t had sushi this week,” Leo suggests.
“Oh, yeah. I could do sushi. That sounds good.”
Less than an hour later, our sushi is delivered, and I’m eating it like I haven’t had sustenance in days. It’s amazing how hungry one can get from lying around and doing absolutely nothing. After dinner, we warm up the rest of a pan of brownies that we got with our pizza last night. Who knew that pizza places made brownies? Leo is opening up a whole new world for me with his takeout knowledge.
The brownie fills the remaining space in my belly, and I’m finally full.
“You want to pick the movie?” Leo asks.
I frown, knowing that I could eat all the takeout and brownies in the world and it’s not going to make me feel better until I acknowledge and accept it.
“What’s wrong?” Leo wipes a strand of hair behind my ear.
I bite my lip and exhale through my nose. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
“What is it?” Leo asks, his blue eyes going wide.
“Back at the hospital, when you asked me what I went through during surgery, I wasn’t completely honest with you about all of my injuries.” I suck in a ragged breath, and tears start to form.
“Okay,” Leo says, urging me on.
I know the words that are coming, and the closer they get to the surface, the more panicked I become. I’m terrified to speak them. I didn’t realize how much so until now.
“I might never,” I say on a sob, “have babies.” I bury my face in my hands as my body heaves with sorrow.
When the doctor told me the news, I was in shock, almost unable to believe her.
Leo pulls me toward him with his good arm and rubs gentle circles over my back, waiting for my tears to abate. “How do you know, babe?”
I sit up and swipe the back of my hand against my tear-soaked face. “Well, when the branch drove into me, most of the damage was to my uterus. The doctor said that they tried really hard to stitch everything up and put me back together, but it will be difficult to have children because of the adhesions from all of the scar tissue caused by the abdominal trauma. She said I could possibly carry a baby if I go the IVF route, but because of the damage and scar tissue also in my uterus, I might not be able to carry either. We won’t know that until later.”
This diagnosis isn’t the end of the world; I know this. There are millions of women who can’t conceive naturally or at all. I’m not alone regardless of the path in which I got here, but it hurts. It breaks me in a way I’ve never been broken because having babies and a big, healthy family was my dream. Being a mother is all I’ve ever wanted, and the hope of that dream has been taken. It’s devastating.
Leo’s expression is one of sadness, and as he looks to me, I see my pain reflected in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Alma. I don’t know what to say.”
I shrug. “There’s really nothing to say. It is what it is, unfortunately, it’s the hand I’ve been dealt.”
Leo squeezes my hand with his. “Alma, look at me.”
I lift my stare to meet his.
“You know you can still be a mom, right? If IVF doesn’t work, then we’ll get a surrogate. You’ll be a mom, Alma. I promise you. Your journey to motherhood might look different, but you’ll get there.”
“You said we,” I state.
“What?” Leo questions.
“You said we. Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about wanting children?” I inquire, hopeful.
“I want kids but only if it’s with you,” he answers with a smug grin.
“But you want them? Not now, of course, but someday, you truly want them?” My heart hammers in my chest, hope returning.
Leo kisses me, his lips soft. “I want everything with you, Alma. I want to do life with you. We’ll have a house, wherever you want—but definitely not across the street from a fraternity.” He chuckles. “We’ll have a dog or a cat—your choice. We’ll have babies and raise them into well-adjusted humans. You’ll have to help me with that because I don’t know how one raises children to be happy. I’ll coach our son’s T-ball team and have tea parties with our daughter, or vice versa. Whatever they want to do, I’ll