The Lobotomist's Wife(57)

Nothing had changed, and she didn’t know how she would ever get better if nothing changed.

But she didn’t have the words to say any of this. So instead, she just let the tears take over. Dr. Apter sat calmly, watching her for nearly five minutes. He handed her a box of Kleenex. She felt like a circus act.

Finally, he spoke. “I see that you are feeling very upset. Do you know what is making you cry right now?” Margaret shook her head no. Even though she did. “Are you sure? I have a feeling that you actually do know, you just won’t allow yourself to say it.” He was baiting her. But he was right.

“Fine.” She looked down at her hands like a petulant child. Embarrassed and ashamed. “I feel like I am hopeless.”

“Nothing is hopeless.”

She felt his gaze upon her and looked up to see his brown eyes piercing her, as if trying to look into her soul.

“What else do you feel? You often talk about failure but, I wonder, do you also feel angry? Resentful?”

Her stomach dropped. Yes. Yes. Yes! Could she really admit this, even to him? She nodded her head, a gentle yes. “I suppose.” She took a deep breath. She couldn’t possibly say more.

“Tell me about those feelings, Margaret.”

She shook her head no, shrugging him off as the tears started to well up again.

“Margaret, if you can’t tell me what is happening inside of you, I can’t help you.”

“Fine,” she almost yelled, the dam bursting inside her. “I can’t do it! I simply can’t do it! I had a life once, you know? I was gonna be a nurse. I was gonna help people. But that doesn’t matter, does it? That wasn’t important once I got to do the most natural and significant job in the world. To be a mother. And I can’t even do that right. I am failing at the one thing in the world that no one is supposed to fail at. I thought I would be something, that my life would mean something, and, instead, it just feels like I am tending to a never-ending hole of other people’s need. I’m supposed to enjoy this, but I despise every minute of every day except when I’m sleeping. And sometimes I wonder if I should just let myself slip away forever, if everyone would be better off without me.” She couldn’t believe she had admitted this. Her darkest secret.

“Margaret, it’s all right.” She couldn’t believe he was so calm and unfazed by her tantrum. “What you are feeling is not uncommon. In fact, there is a term for what you are experiencing.”

“Yes, I know, the ‘baby blues’?” She took a deep, ragged breath and looked at him. “It’s not supposed to be like this, though.”

“Well, baby blues might have been a trigger for you, but what you are describing is beyond the simple malaise of the postpartum period. Yours is persistent. And when these types of feelings linger and are accompanied by extreme anger, we call it ‘agitated depression.’ Left untreated, it can be quite serious.” He paused, as if allowing the words to settle.

“Quite serious?” Margaret felt the color drain from her face. She’d suspected there was something really wrong with her. And now he confirmed it.

“Well, clinically, we worry that a mother who is unable to recover naturally in the immediate postpartum period suffers from underlying psychological conditions that could be very harmful to the healthy development of her children.”

“My . . . children?” She startled.

“In extreme cases, we have seen mothers actually physically harm their babies. Even try to kill them.”

“You think I would try to kill my children?” Margaret’s tears returned with the force of a hurricane; she felt like she might vomit.

“I hope not. And I know you don’t want to do that intellectually, in your brain.” He tapped at his head. “But the emotional world sometimes runs counter to the intellect. That is why you are here.” He stood up, poured her a glass of water, and smiled eagerly as he handed it to her. “There is hopeful news for you, though. I do know how to help you. Why don’t you take a moment to gather yourself, and then I can tell you all about my miracle cure.”

Margaret left her session in a daze. Yes, what the doctor suggested terrified her, but if he could cure her in a single day, with a simple office procedure? Was it too good to be true, or the greatest gift she could receive? Her head was spinning, and she had an odd sensation of elation alongside her confusion. Instead of walking toward her car, she began to wander deeper into the property until she spotted a bench surrounded by the sweetest-smelling lilacs. It wasn’t appropriate, she knew, but she would just sit and get her thoughts in order before going home. Try to make sense of what the doctor had said. What it might mean. She tingled with fear, but for the first time in as long as she could remember, she felt full of hope.





Chapter Thirty-Three


Ruth wanted to cut some lilacs for the table before dinner. She found the fragrance relaxing and craved relaxation right now. She hadn’t taken a proper vacation since she started in her new role, more than seven years ago. Robert was so often on the road, and they were both so busy, that time had just evaporated. But she had been unusually on edge lately as she anxiously awaited Mandrake’s report, so when the board suggested that, in advance of their May meeting, she take a week for herself, she decided to do it. She had selected this week because Robert was home (seeing private patients, of course, but still present at Magnolia Bluff, at least). While he worked, she gardened to settle her uneasy mind.