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After Taye had gone for a checkup, three months later, and everything looked fine, we tried again. She made it through the first trimester. Taye was feeling great. She had taken a leave of absence from work, and was doing what the doctor ordered— getting lots of rest.
Six months into her pregnancy, Taye began to feel tightness in her stomach. It was like something was pulling it down, she told me. While we were lying in bed one night, she felt wetness between her legs. "Taye, you’re bleeding!" I yelled.
Taye panicked, while I called 9-1-1. The ambulance was there in a matter of minutes and transported her to the hospital, but it was too late. The baby was stillborn.
After we lost the baby, Taye had gone into an extremely depressed state. All my attempts to talk to her about losing the baby, or anything for that matter, were met with complete silence, and the most distant stare. Our doctor told us that Taye was going through postpartum depression.
"Postpartum depression is a serious illness that generally occurs in the first few months after childbirth. It can also happen after miscarriage and stillbirth. Taye has all the symptoms: sadness, fatigue, insomnia, appetite changes, reduced libido, crying episodes, anxiety, and irritability, as she grapples with this devastating experience."
"Can you give her something for it?" I asked.
"I can prescribe an antidepressant for her, which in most cases, effectively relieves symptoms of postpartum depression for most women. However, I strongly recommend that you seek counseling for both you and Taye. A form of counseling called Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy has proved to be as effective as antidepressant medicine for postpartum depression."
But Taye wasn’t interested in taking any antidepressant or counseling. "I’m not crazy," she said when the doctor suggested it. She did allow him to prescribe some sleeping pills to help with the insomnia.
After a while, Taye basically stopped speaking to me unless she had to. For months, she was cold, direct, and very much to the point. When she did speak, it was only because it was absolutely unavoidable. And sex . . ., well, nights that were once filled with great sexual experiences shared by two people who were desperately in love with each other, were now a distant memory. I kept trying—begging really. The times Taye did break down and open her legs, was just pity pussy.
"All right, all ready. Just come on and get it," she’d say.
No romance, no foreplay, just come on and get it. Then, she’d rush me—and I hated to be rushed. I had always been the type of lover that liked to take my time, savor each and every second of the pleasure. But now, it was hit it and quit.
"And I’m tired of that shit," I yelled at her one night after another round of unsatisfying sex. After that, Taye engrossed herself into her work, and dismissed any and all intimacy with me.
Finally, after months of me talking it up, Taye went to see a psychoanalyst so she could begin to work through her issues. The doctor told me that Taye’s condition wasn’t simply postpartum depression. She was suffering with a bipolar disorder. "The cause of bipolar disorder is not entirely known. Genetic, neurochemical, and environmental factors probably interact at many levels to play a role in the onset and progression of bipolar disorder," Dr. Larrieux told me at our first meeting. "The current thinking is that this is a predominantly biological disorder that occurs in a specific part of the brain, and is due to a malfunction of the neurotransmitters."
"And this happened because she lost a baby?"
"A biological disorder of this type may lie dormant and be activated spontaneously, or it may be triggered by stressors in life. A life event may trigger a mood episode in a person with a genetic disposition for bipolar disorder. Although no one is quite sure about the exact cause, bipolar disorders tend to be familial; meaning that it runs in families. About half the people with bipolar disorder have a family member with a mood disorder, such as depression. Your wife did mention that she had an aunt that suffered from depression."
This time, Taye agreed to the treatment option. But she didn’t like the way the medication made her feel, so she stopped taking it. The sessions with Dr. Larrieux proved to be helpful. In time, Taye became a bit more interactive, and generally seemed a lot happier with herself, and our marriage, and she began to come to grips with the death of our second child. However, that generally happier feeling had no positive effect on our sex life.
Still, I was very happy when Taye came home and told me that Dr. Larrieux suggested she take some time off from work, and that we go away together.
"Some place romantic, is what she said, but I don
’t know about all that," Taye said to me that day.
"Why not?" I asked excitedly. I thought it was about time she suggested something constructive. "Considering what we pay her," I started to say, but thought better of it. "I think that’s a great idea. I’ll even do the research for it."
A day later, I came home with pamphlets of Puerto Rico.
"Puerto Rico?" Taye asked. "I’ve never been to Puerto Rico."
"Then let’s go." I got down on my knees and pleaded. "Let’s do something spontaneous. Something we’ll both remember for the rest of our lives together."
"All right, I guess," she unenthusiastically responded.
So it was set. Taye and I were going to San Juan, Puerto Rico, to have fun together in the sun.
I hoped.
* * *
Chapter Two
Avonte
When I walked out of the airport in San Juan, Puerto Rico, I immediately had to dig in my purse for my sunglasses. During the four-hour flight from New York, I had three vodka and orange juices, and the San Juan sun was too much for me. I had come to San Juan to make some decisions about how the rest of my life was going to go. Since I was making life decisions, really heavy stuff, and since the temperature in New York was in the single digits, I decided that I wanted to be some place with sun.