3.12 Back Home

I was having my weekly meeting with one of the doctors at the hospital. It was my third month here and I was hopeful that he had news for me.

“So I see you are doing quite well in recovering,” the doctor said, looking down at some papers about me.

“That's great. Now, can you tell me how you are feeling today?”

I fumbled with my fingers in my lap. “I feel okay. I mean i'm really bored here since Katherine was released a week ago. But I've kept myself busy with doing puzzles and watching television in the common room.” I couldn't meet his eyes. All the time I felt like they were judging me.

“I see. And despite that you are bored, how do you feel? Do you feel like there have been improvement to you condition? Do you feel better than when you were first admitted?”

“Definitely better, yes!” I looked up into his eyes with confidence. I wanted to get out of here. I needed to see my family again, to talk with William. He hadn't visited me since he had said those things, and he hadn't brought over the children. I couldn't understand why.

“That's good.” The doctor said. “I see you've taken your medicine at the right times as well,” he said looking back down at the papers. “And you do well with the other patients. You don't have tantrums that often anymore. Actually the last time was a month ago! That's great news, Kylie.” He looked up and smiled at me.

“The reason why we are having this meeting is that you have requested to come home again.” He folded his hands in his lap and I prepared myself for defeat.

“I think you are ready,” he said. I looked surprised at him. I was ready? He actually said that?

“You do?”

“I do. But we need to set some things straight before I can release you with good conscience.”

“Wh-what kind of things?” I started getting nervous again, fumbling with my hands once more.

“How often do you hear voices now?”

“Every day,” I said.

“And how often do you react to them?”

“Never! I never react to them anymore.”

“Okay good.” He put down the papers on the blue couch he was sitting on and took out a notepad. He scribbled down a couple things and then turned his attention back to me.

“Is there anything at home that might trigger this kind of behavior again?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Well just if there are things or people in your life that could affect you in a certain way that might trigger your illness so that you would experience the thing that caused you to get in here to begin with.”

I sat still for a moment, thinking about my family. What had caused my sudden outburst? I had been having a fight with William. We had talked about having more children. I didn't want more children, but he did. I couldn't fathom how he would suggest something like that. Didn't he know how painful it was to give birth? But it wasn't just that. I was too sick, too ill to deal with another birth. Too ill to have more children to give love to, to care for, to handle while I also had a full time job.

“Kylie?” The doctor pulled me out of my trance of thoughts.

“I don't know. I mean, the reason was my husband. We had had a fight about whether to have more children.” I said, saddened by the thought. It was him. He was the reason I was in here. All my thoughts about what I wanted to say to him when I got out went out the window. I would have said to him how much I love him, that I wanted us to stay together, that I would do anything for him. But now. Now I wasn't so sure any more.

“Kylie you have to focus on our conversation.” The doctors spoke once more.

“Yes, I'm sorry. I was just lost in thoughts.

“I could tell,” he had a playful smile on his lips.

“Do you often become distracted by your thoughts?” he asked.

“Well, no not often, but it happens now and again. Is this relevant?” I asked a bit confused.

“I don't know yet.” He said, scribbling down something.

“You're not going to release me yet are you?” I didn't know what I felt about this. Anger? Frustration? Happiness?

“Actually I think you are ready. Yes, I think it would do you good to come home to what you know. But I think we need to do something else as well. Once ever two days you will have to contact me and let me know of anything relevant to your case. That includes fights with your husband or children, feelings you may have had . Outbursts of anger, frustration, work related things that affect how you feel.”

I thought about it for a moment, then said: “I can live with that. For how long will I have to do that?”

“I'm thinking a month at first. Then I will call you in for a meeting and we'll discuss further what will happen.”

“Does that mean I can risk getting admitted again?”

“I really can't say just yet. We will have to see how things evolve. But you need to take it easy. Before I release you, we will need a meeting with your husband so he can understand this as well. I think it is better if I explain it to him so he understands the seriousness of the situation.”

I felt relieved. I didn't have to go through a conversation with my husband about my special needs. I was sure he wouldn't understand. Or maybe I was so lucky that when the doctor talked to him, he might just.

William was called in for a meeting the following Wednesday. I wouldn't exactly say I was looking forward to it, but at the same time I wanted badly to go home.

We all sat down together in the room that the doctor and I had been in at our last meeting. I hadn't had contact with William for almost three months. Every time I had called him it had gone to voice mail, and he never called me back.

“So William,” the doctor said. “The reason we called you to this meeting is to discuss your wife's needs.”

“I see,” William said with his soft voice. I had forgotten how soft it was. It was one of the reasons I fell in love with him to begin with.

“Yes.” The doctor started telling William about how I needed quiet and to relax whenever necessary. That I couldn't handle stress or fights.

When he was done, William turned to me.

“Then I think it is better to do this while you are still in the hospital. Kylie, I love you. For the past three months I've gone over our troubles and everything we've been through together. I'm sorry I haven't answered all your calls or visited you. I should have at least brought over the kids for them to see their Mother. God knows they've been asking for you every day. These three months have given me time to see our relationship from a new angle.” He paused for a moment, looking over at the doctor. Then he looked back at me. “I want us to go into therapy together. I want us to work things out. If we don't I'm afraid we don't won't last much longer.”

I looked helplessly at the doctor, but he just observed us. “I don't know what to say, William.” It was the first time in a long time I had used his name. It suddenly dawned on me that I didn't even want to call him our pet names we had for each other, anymore. I didn't want to use “Darling” or “Honey” or “Sweetheart”. It just didn't feel right.

“I think you're right. We need therapy.” I didn't want to throw away our marriage. It meant too much for me to just break things up. “But I don't know if this is fixable,” I said. “Too much have happened to just go back to the way things were. We can try to fix things, but if it doesn't I don't see another way out than divorce.” I forced myself to say the last word. It felt wrong, but at the same time right. It wasn't easy to explain my feelings, so I just kept them to myself.

I was released the following Friday. William came and picked me up while the kids were watched by their Aunt Skylar.

“Mommy!” both Logan and Hailey screamed as I walked into their bedroom. They ran into my arms and I hugged them for the first time in almost three months. Skylar smiled at me from the floor. She had been playing with them with their dolls.

I smelled my children's hair and promised myself to never leave them again.

“Mom look what I made for you,” Logan said as he let go of me and ran to his activity table. “It's all of us together in the woods,” he said as he handed me a drawing he had made.

“It's beautiful, thank you Logan,” I said with tears in my eyes.

“Mommy, now that you are home again, does that mean you aren't ill anymore?” Hailey asked, her innocent eyes looking up at me.

I sighed. “No sweetheart. But it means I am finally ready to be home without help from others. I have missed you guys so much.” I pulled my two kids into a hug.

“I want to see the twins,” I said after I let go of them.

As I held my youngest children in my arms, one by one, I felt safe again. I was meant for this. Meant to be a mother of four. I didn't want more children. And soon I wouldn't be able to. “You look beautiful,” William said while standing in the doorway observing me.

“Thank you,” I said feeling a little uneasy by his show of affection.

“I know you said you didn't want more children,” He started, when I cut him off.

“Don't start with that again.” I said harshly.

“I was going to say that I understand now,” He said with a hurt expression on his face. “After taking care of four kids on my own for three months, I finally get it. I don't want any more kids either any longer.”

I felt relief wash over me. “I'm so glad to hear you say that.”

He reached out to hold me, but I instinctively backed off. 

“What?” he asked, clearly hurt.

“I'm just not ready for that yet.” I said, feeling a little bad for rejecting his attempt of affection.

He looked at me for a minute before saying: “I'm gonna take the couch tonight. You can have the bed.” He left the room and soon I heard him rummage around the kitchen. He had started making dinner.

After the twins sixth birthday the house was more noisy than ever before. Children's voices, yelling and screaming, or laughter were heard throughout the day. Sometimes it drove me crazy and I had to leave the house to collect myself. William complained about it, saying how I abandoned my family all the time. It made me feel horrible. Was that what I did? Therapy weren't going the way I wanted it. We just sat there complaining about each other all the time, and the therapist kept asking us how we thought we could solve it. But nothing was solved. I felt stressed out from work, and then I came home to a house full of either laughter or screaming. It was never quiet. I started feeling insanity again. I took my new medication, that I had started while being at the hospital, and it did help with my voices, but it did not keep the insanity part away. I felt broken into a million pieces every day. I didn't tell the doctor this though. I didn't want to be away from my kids for three months again.

Then the day came when I had finally had enough. “I can't deal with this anymore!” I screamed at William.

“Honey, calm down.” He held his hands up in defense.

“I'm not going to throw something this time.” I said. He looked terrified at me. My voice had become calm in the blink of an eye.

“You need to leave.” I said to him.

“Sure. I'll leave and when I come back we have both calmed ourselves and we can sit down and talk about this as adults.” He grabbed his keys and made for the door.

“No. I mean leave, as in don't come back.” I looked firmly at him.

“What? You can't be serious.” He said in disbelief.

“I am deadly serious. This isn't working out. We are screaming at each other almost every day, therapy isn't working, there is no communication between us. This just isn't working out. I want you to move out. Today.” I was very firm on this. I couldn't handle this much longer.

“Fine!” He didn't say any more. He just put on his shoes and jacket and left.

Later that day he returned, after the kids had come home from school.

He didn't look at me when he said he had come to grab his stuff. He was moving in with one of his friends until he could find a place of his own.

We told the kids together that their Mom and Dad were splitting up.

“I knew it,” Logan said under his breath.

“Where are we gonna live?” Stella asked with tears in her eyes.

“You are going to live with me,” I said with a little fake smile.

“You are always welcome to come visit,” William said.

“But won't you come here anymore?” She asked.

William and I looked at each other.

“I don't think that's a good idea. Not for a while anyway,” he said.

“You're gonna miss my birthday, aren't you?” Logan said with crossed arms while pouting.

I shook my head. “Your father will be here for your birthday, Logan.” I said firmly.

“Of course I will!” William said.

It broke my heart to see all the kids in tears.

“Just because your father and I aren't together anymore doesn't mean we don't love you guys. We love you so much!” I said.

“We know that!” Sadie said defensively.

“Good. I want you to understand it.” I said kindly.

“We do understand it!” Stella said, still in tears. “We're not stupid!” She got up and ran to her room.