Page 91 of Defend Her Heart

I have yet to talk to anyone about this, not even my therapist, because I thought if I kept it buried for a bit, it wouldn’t break my heart. After today’s article, I realize that isn’t the case. I decide to let Sadie in on something that’s been eating me alive.

“I’m not even a little bit okay. Knowing Bryan will be here, or that he’s already in Green Bay, was enough to bring up some terrible memories. But, if I’m being honest, it’s the whole article claiming I’m pregnant that’s breaking me.”

Sadie abandons her chop sticks and reaches out to hold my hand. “What do you mean?”

I take a deep breath and let it all out.

“So, having a chronic illness has completely changed how I have to live my life, as you know. But one thing I’ve done to feel less alone is join online groups and forums so I could talk with other POTSies—that’s what we like to call ourselves.” I chuckle.

“Cute.” Sadie laughs, and I continue.

“Anyway, a few days before I was officially diagnosed, I was on one of the online groups I joined and read a story about a woman who went into pregnancy-induced heart failure when she delivered her baby. From what I’ve read, it’s not connected to POTS, but then I read the comment section. It was full of women who said their symptoms were so muchworse during pregnancy and or even worse postpartum. I’m not going to lie, it put the fear of God in me. Because I’m barely managing this monster. What do you mean it could get worse? Sure, there are plenty of women who have healthy pregnancies with no complications, but your mind doesn’t remember the good, you know? I can’t stop thinking the worst.”

Sadie squeezes my hand. “Oh my gosh, Avery. I can’t imagine how that made you feel.”

I huff out a sad laugh. “As if my body hasn’t let me down enough already, having to quit playing hockey and essentially finding a desk job, the fact that there’s a chance of pregnancy complications is just the cherry on top of my shitty life. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted kids, but now with those horror stories and possibly passing this complicated illness onto my hypothetical children? It’s so much. I know it’s not impossible, and women with POTS have healthy pregnancies and babies, it’s just…” My words trail off and I have to look away because of the tears building in my eyes. I sniff through the emotion and turn back to Sadie. “It’s not fucking fair.” The dam breaks and tears fall down my cheeks for the second time today.

I bury my face in my hands at the same time Sadie reaches over to wrap her arms around me. She doesn’t say anything at first, she simply holds me as I let out the sadness I’ve been holding onto for far too long.

Life isn’t fucking fair sometimes.

I cry for a good ten minutes in Sadie’s arms, and she doesn’t loosen her hold on me once. Finally, I pull away, wiping my tear-soaked face. Sadie hops back onto her stool but keeps a hand on my knee.

“You’re right, Avery. It’s not fucking fair. Not even a little bit. This illness has already taken so much from you, and now it feels like it’s making another decision for you before you’re even ready.”

I nod because she hit the nail right on the head. I don’tknow if I want children, but it feels like this illness is swaying that decision for me.

“But…” Sadie waits until I look up to continue. “You’re allowed to feel and grieve however you see fit. You need to remember those online forums are full of horror stories because those are the people who need the most support. But even so, if you decide it’s not worth your health or mental health, that’s okay, too. As someone who comes from a fucked-up family and didn’t want one of my own, I now have a family that I adore, including a crazy five-year old who doesn’t share my blood but feels like more a part of me than my own siblings or parents ever were. Families come in all shapes and sizes. Maybe you decide you want kids and choose to get pregnant. Maybe you don’t. Maybe you choose adoption, or surrogacy, or fostering, whatever! Or maybe you don’t want kids and you and Uncle Connor can just borrow Sophia when you need a fix.”

That line gets a laugh out of me because, honestly, that doesn’t sound half bad. She squeezes my knee and says one more thing that has me feeling the first bit of optimism I’ve felt today.

“Butyouget to decide what family means to you. And I’ll be here every step of the way supporting you no matter what.”

After breaking down to Sadie in the apartment, we decided that instead of finishing our sushi, we needed ice cream. Luckily, there’s a delicious creamery just down the street from Connor’s apartment building. We’re on our way out the main entrance of his building when we bump into Coach Hunter. He’s holding his cute puppy Gordie’s leash in one hand, a bottle of wine in the other, and seems shocked to see us.

“Oh, hey. What are you two doing here?”

Okay, that’s weird.

Sadie places a hand on her hip. “The better question is, what are you doing here?”

Hunter looks around nervously. “Um, I just need to go over something with Connor before tomorrow’s game.”

Sadie and I both look at each other in amusement. I turn back to Hunter. “Oh, really? With wine? And Connor’s isn’t back from practice yet.”

Hunter’s eyes widen as he realizes he’s been caught in a lie. Gordie tugs on the leash and Hunter uses his dog as an opportunity to escape. “Ope. Gordie needs to go to the bathroom. Let’s catch up later.”

He’s gone before either of us can respond. Sadie turns and watches him damn near sprint down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, hand still firmly on her hip. “That man is up to no good. And I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

We both giggle and make our way down the street to the ice cream creamery. It doesn’t take long to get our orders and we’re back on the sidewalk five minutes later. With my pistachio ice cream in hand and Sadie by my side, we enjoy a nice, slow walk back to Connor’s.

Or, it is a nice walk, until my ex-husband steps out of one of the restaurants a few doors down from the apartment building. My feet freeze and I stay glued to the spot as Sadie keeps walking. She’s a few feet in front of me before she realizes I’m no longer beside her. She rushes back to me and grabs my arm gently.

“Avery? What is it? Are you feeling faint?”

You could fucking say that.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my darling ex-wife. How lovely to run into you this evening.”