swallowed and considered her words. Jade was a trained nurse, after all. Surely if she were worried, she’d go in for tests. “Have you thought about seeing a doctor?”
Jade smiled. “Now you sound like Tanner.” She faced the ocean and seemed to stare at something unseen and far away. “You know what I think it is?”
“What?” Hannah took a few slow steps back toward the house, and Jade kept up beside her.
“Depression.” A sigh slipped from Jade’s lips and blended with the ocean breeze. “Isn’t that crazy?”
“Of course not.” The knot relaxed. Depression was better than other possibilities. “Lots of people get depressed.”
“But me?” Jade stretched her hands over her head and took a slow breath. “I wasn’t depressed when my life was falling apart. But now that I’m living my dream, married to a man I’ve loved since I was a little girl …
now
I get depressed? It doesn’t make sense.”
Hannah remembered the miscarriage Jade had eight monthsearlier. “It makes perfect sense. It hasn’t even been a year since you lost the baby.”
Quiet fell between them, and Jade wiped at a stray tear. “I think about that child every day. Sometimes it seems like everyone else has forgotten there ever was a baby.”
“Even Tanner?” Their steps were slow and easy, the beach empty but for the two of them.
Jade shook her head. “No. Tanner talks about her.”
“Her?”
“Yes.” Jade sniffed and ran her fingers through her hair. “All my life I’ve wanted a daughter and … yes. The baby was a girl. She’d be two months old if she’d lived.”
Hannah gazed across the watery horizon. “Losing a child isn’t something that ever goes away, Jade. Whether that child was miscarried—” she thought about her visit to the cemetery the week before—“or killed in a car accident.”
Jade’s teary eyes locked onto Hannah’s. “I don’t know how to let her go. I want a baby so badly.” Jade hung her head and gentle weeping overtook her.
Hannah pulled her close, hugging her the way a mother hugs her lost child. Hannah knew Jade’s story well. Her mother had abandoned her when she was a child and left her to be raised by an alcoholic father. Jade had no siblings, so though Hannah was only four years older, she sometimes was the next best thing to a mother—or maybe an older sister.
“It’s okay.” She ran her hand along Jade’s shoulder. “You should have said something sooner.”
Jade nodded and after a while she pulled back. Her face was wet with tears. “I keep telling myself I’m supposed to let it go. People miscarry all the time, right?”
“But it still hurts. If you don’t talk about that kind of pain it’ll eat you alive, Jade.”
Jade sucked in a deep breath and started walking again. “Maybe that explains my health.”
“Exactly.” Hannah kept her steps slow, giving Jade a chance to sort through her feelings.
They walked in silence until Jade turned, her eyes searching Hannah’s as though looking for an unfathomable secret. “How did you do it, Hannah? How did you learn to live again?”
Hannah knew the answer as surely as she knew her name. “God carried me.” She slowed her pace, and after a few more steps stopped and faced her friend. “He’ll carry you, too.”
She nodded, fresh tears in her eyes. “I know. I feel like this … this depression is keeping me from getting pregnant. Like I’m too tense to conceive.”
Hannah angled her head and smiled. “You’ll have more children one day, Jade. I believe that with all my heart.” She sat down on the sand, pulling her knees to her chest, then patted the spot beside her. “Wanna pray?”
Jade dropped beside her, every motion slow and weary, as though she lacked all hope. They bowed their heads, and Hannah prayed for Jade’s broken heart and empty arms. She asked that God bring healing and joy and health to Jade and a deeper understanding to Tanner.
“And please, Lord, one day