47. Ellie
Chapter forty-seven
Ellie
I t’s been two weeks since I came home from my vacation with the girls. Dom and I were quick to fire out our apologies for the things we said during our last argument, but after being together for years, I know that we both need time to process things on our own and work to build trust again before we can truly move on from a fight that big.
I wish the longer you were with someone, the easier it became to forgive one another for being human and making mistakes, but it’s a choice every single time. We have to take accountability, and want to change for the better, and I do.
This is me trying.
I owe it to Dom, Luca, and myself.
Therapy didn’t work out for me last time, but I have to try again. After telling the girls our birth story, I expected to feel raw and worn down, but I felt lighter than I had in months. That only makes this decision easier.
I sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the business card from Isabel, the woman I met in the park so many months ago. I hope to be like her someday. She seemed so comfortable in who she is and in how she parents. If I want that, I need to make it happen .
Abruptly, I stand, grab my purse, and leave for my appointment before my nerves can get the best of me. Here goes…everything.
***
“Motherfucker,” I mumble as my internet connection fluctuates in and out.
Luca laughs as Dom pushes him on the swing set underneath the willow tree in our backyard before demanding to go down the slide another time. I pause, watching them for a moment before fighting with my laptop again.
I’m finally reconnected when I hear a knock on the gate. Bec and Aiden follow as an overzealous yellow lab bounds into our yard and starts doing zoomies around the playset, where Luca claps in celebration, welcoming his best friend.
“You guys know how to make an entrance,” I say.
“Who us? No, couldn’t be us causing a scene,” Bec says, brushing me off. “We come bearing gifts.”
“Oh my god, I can smell the garlic. Gimme,” I say as Bec and Aiden drop take-out containers on our patio table.
“Uh, you two good for a second? I’d help set up, but I think I need to intervene.”
Hopper is climbing with tentative paws onto the playset rock wall, an adorable little whine escaping his muzzle at the sight of Luca so high and out of reach. He lies down and watches Luca intently, silently begging his buddy to join him back on solid ground.
Shit. The last thing I need is to fall in love with how cute Hopper and Luca are together. I’m just coming back to myself in motherhood…let’s not add a puppy to this mix.
“You know…Luca looks like a dog baby,” Bec sings as she unpacks carryout containers.
I narrow my eyes at her. “If you’re reading my thoughts, I hope you heard the rest of them. Cute. Adorable. But that’s what we have you for, and why I’m so grateful my best girl and her fancy fiancé and dog only live ten minutes away.”
“You and me both.”
I run inside to grab dishes and Luca’s booster seat before Bec and I spend a few minutes setting up the table for us to eat. The guys are plenty busy entertaining Luca and Hopper.
I smile at the chorus of toddler giggles and excited barks. Spring is slowly fading, and with each warmer June day, I feel the life soaking into my skin with the sunshine.
“Can I ask how it’s going, or is that going to stress you out?” Bec asks.
“Despite the cursing you probably heard on your way in, it’s actually going…well?”
“Is that a question or an answer?”
“A little bit of both, I guess.” I shrug, setting aside a stack of napkins. “It’s surprising. Everything is sort of falling into place. I mean, I have no fucking clue what I’m doing, but I already had a few people from my office refer their friends. I booked my first official session.”
Bec’s jaw drops comically low. “What?” she shouts at me before pulling me in for a too-tight hug. “Ellie, oh my god. Lead with that next time! That’s amazing.”
I pat her back lightly, my ability hindered by her tight grip around my arms.
“Down girl. It’s only one appointment.”
“You shut up, Ellie Moretti. This is a big fucking deal. I’m so proud of you. Tell me everything.”
I can’t contain my smile, a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling up as I explain how I booked my first client ever with my own photography business.
“My coworker’s sister is expecting. She’s been looking for a photographer for the birth.”
Bec’s face drops instantly, her expression shifting quickly to one of worry.
“Ellie, are you sure about this? Won’t that be triggering?”
I nod. “Honestly, probably. But I’ve been talking with my new therapist about it. When she first asked me to do the session, I can’t explain it, I felt like I had to do it. I figure I’ll try it once, and if it’s too much, I’ll stop booking that type of appointment and focus more on family photos. But there’s this part of me that feels like it’ll be healing in a way; that no matter what happens in birth, if the mom wants that moment captured, then I’m there to do that. I don’t have any pictures from the first few hours Luca was alive. There’s a lot that I grieve about our birth experience, and that’s one of them. Sometimes it’s not possible because the priority is obviously everyone’s safety, but if I can give a mom this…then I want to do that for them.
“In therapy we’ve been talking about the parts of my birthing experience that felt empowering. The choices I was able to make that felt right for me. How strong I felt. How supported Dom made me feel. I think sometimes I forget that I can feel both things. Grief for what went wrong, and joy at what went right.”
“Okay, but promise me we can check in afterward. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I promise.”
Therapy hasn’t been easy and I’ve only had three appointments. I can barely function afterward I’m so exhausted, especially since my therapist has me doing EMDR, a type of treatment that leaves me feeling emotionally drained but is supposed to help treat my PTSD. We’re trying everything and I don’t know if it’s any one approach or all of them together after over a year of ignoring everything that’s making the difference.
I’m committed this time. Regular appointments, EMDR, and I’m starting medication soon too. I’m even making time to sit outside when it’s nice to listen to birdsong, because my therapist mentioned it can help with anxiety.
There’s no quick fix, but for the first time in a long time, the brain fog has lessened, and in my heart…I have hope.
Hope that I can take pieces of my past and fit them into the mosaic of my future, and it’ll be more beautiful than I ever imagined.