"Push, Mrs Jackson." The doctor yells. I push my body outward and scream in pain. "You're almost done Jay." My mothers says wiping sweat from my forehead. "This is beautiful, you're doing great.." Michael whispers, holding my hand. I push one more time until I finally feel a sense of relief. I let out a huge sigh and collapse my body on the hospital bed. I didn't hear my baby boy crying. The doctors take him to the cleaning table and begin cleaning him. "Why is he not crying?" I panic. "What's wrong with him?" I ask. "Hold on, baby. Just wait." My mother says as she tried to move closer. I look at Michael and his eyes are searching the table. I was so worried. What was wrong? Finally the doctor turns around, the look on his face sent me to tears. "I'm sorry Mrs. Jackson. He didn't make it. The umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. He suffocated." The doctor says regrettably. Michael grabs me and holds me tightly as I weep in his arms. I feel my mothers hands wrap around me and Michael and we all cry together.

The next few days were harder than the last. It felt like my life was empty. I had no urge to live. I honestly wanted to die. I felt Michael growing further and further away from me and we had gotten into arguments ten times more than we ever had. It just felt like I was crumbling. I had no control over my life anymore. I sat on the floor of my child's room grabbing things to put away. The room saddened me so I wanted to get rid of it. I wiped more and more tears off my face as I placed empty picture frames in the box. Each frame made me think of a memory that we never shared. I grabbed the small bear that said "mommys boy" on the front and held it close to my chest and began sobbing. Michael ran in the room and kneeled in front of me. "Baby, please. I can't take you like this." He grabs my face, wiping away tears. "Jay look at me, we'll get through this. I promise. You have to know that.." He holds me closer. I knew he was trying to be strong for the both of us. "I can't do this Michael. I can't. I don't know what went wrong. Why this happened to us." I muffle into his chest. "Things happen for a reason, maybe we weren't ready. Maybe the baby wasn't ready." He caresses my back. "Let's get out of this room. Ok?" He helps me up and walks me to our bedroom. I lay and grab the nearest pillow squeezing it in my arms, attempting to stifle my last bit of tears. Michael lays behind me curling his body around mine and stroking my hair to calm me until I had fallen asleep.

I look in the mirror to my red face and baggy eyes. Brushing my hair into a bun, I let out a deep sigh, threw on one of Michael's sweaters and ran downstairs. "I'll call you later." Michael whispers as he quickly hangs up the phone. "Who was that?" I ask, slightly suspicious. "Uh, mother." He stammered. "She wanted to know how you were feeling." He kisses the side of my forehead. I scrunch my face. "Oh. Ok" I respond. I sit on the couch turning on the television to yet another false headline. "Jayla Pearson Suicidal? After a long and troubling pregnancy and losing her infant son moments after the birth. It's been said that Jayla is on suicide watch with her family and friends." The TV blared. I rolled my eyes. "Who tells these people this? Who watches this garbage?" I shake my head, clicking the remote to turn the tv off. I grab my pen and note pad from the side table and begin writing. I should put myself in my work. Michael sits next to me with his arm around my shoulders watching me write. "Another day has gone..." He reads out loud. "Who are you gonna sell this one to?" He asks. "I want you to sing it." I say looking up at him. "This song would be way to personal for anyone else but you." I add. He nods. "Okay." He watched as I wrote more and more, line after line. Michael stared intently, biting his lip. He pinches my side. "you're so cute when you're hard at work, and you look sexy in my sweater." He flirts. I give him a quick giggle and say "thanks." "A smile!" He exclaims, he pokes my cheek. "It makes me smile when you smile Jay. I know it's hard, but I want you to be happy baby. We can't let this hold us back." He pulls me into his chest and kisses my forehead.

1995 (23 years old)

I over heard Michael on the phone once again. I was already suspicious of him. He's never on the phone as much as he is now. Plus, there were photos of him and a woman together on almost every magazine. I didn't want to seem like I believed what the tabloids say, but I did want to know who she was. "Hey, mike." I say walking in the room as he was buttoning his shirt. "Yeah babe" he says. "Who is this?" I ask tossing the magazine on the bed. He grabs the magazine and looks "This is Debbie, she's just a friend." He tosses it back on the bed. "I've never met Debbie." I respond placing my hand on my hips. "Baby I promise, she's just a friend. What's up with the suspicion?" He asks slightly annoyed. "Michael, ever since we lost the baby you've become more and more distant from me." I remarked. "Are you kidding me?!" He responds. "It feels like the only time I'm around is when you need me. When I actually want to be around you, you wanna be alone!" He exclaims. "What do you mean when you 'actually' want to be around me?" I yell. "You've literally been paying me no attention since we lost Keenan. It's like you're punishing me for something that is not my fault!" He says louder. "So, what? Are you saying it's my fault?" I ask. "All I'm saying is, I'm not the one that carried the baby." He added. I get silent. I couldn't believe what he said. "I... I want a divorce." I say quietly.