State of the #SHEA part 36: I'm Not Always Like This ("Letting Go")

 

You say you wish you could find some way to help

To not to be so hard on myself

So why is it easy for everyone else? 

I’m not always like this

There’s always tomorrow I guess

(from “Turn Out The Lights” by Julien Baker)

If we think of “Decrypt” (from earlier this season) as the closest thing we’ve had thus far to a “Lea” episode (on par with the episodes titled “Lim” and “Claire”), I suggest we consider the “Letting Go” episode as “Lea, part 2”. I know it was about how both Lea and Shaun are dealing with the miscarriage, but an unexpected amount of the hour was devoted to just Lea… which we all know has been extremely rare, at least until this season. And, perhaps thanks to another woman-penned script (thank you Doris Egan, whose last work here was “The Uncertainty Principle”), we got some LONG looks at Lea’s pain.

And that’s important-- not just because she’s the title character’s life partner for the foreseeable future, but because the actual miscarriage happened within her. Twenty-two weeks of her body, hormones, and state of mind adjusting gradually to the miracle of life, and suddenly the miracle is gone. If it takes several weeks for everything going on within her body to reverse course and return to “normal" (and it does), imagine how much longer it can take emotionally.

Incidentally, we see Shaun pouring himself into his work as part of his own grieving process… and while it’s easy to attribute some of this to his ASD keeping him at arms’ length from his own emotions, my research indicates the workaholic approach is common for men in general. 

(Okay, maybe this comes as little surprise to those of us who have witnessed more than a few men desperately keeping certain feelings at bay.)

Anyway, the episode picks up only a few days after “Dr. Ted” ends, and while Lea isn’t exactly hiding her sorrow from Shaun, she does manage to find enough of the right words to convince Shaun she’s at peace with the time-heals-all-wounds theory. The moment he sets out the door with an assured nod in Lea’s direction, we get that extra 10 seconds watching her face transform ever so slightly… just enough to confirm how difficult a day it’s going to be with nothing to come between Lea, her sadness… and her silence. 

Because she can’t quite put her feelings into words yet, you may have noticed:

• She “speaks” in song lyrics… a lot of song lyrics.

• She does the channel surfing, flops back to bed, then plays games mindlessly on her phone until the battery dies (which made me think of the way she and Shaun first met… sigh… such innocent times)-- and in between all this we see her let a call from her mom go to voicemail. As she scrambles to find a power cord that will allow her to continue the games, we hear “The Rush” by JJ Wilde:

Last night I came out, I was so damn manic

I don’t even know where I went wrong… But I went wrong

And it’s times like these, I swear to God 

Oh that my mother can’t see me and if she did

I don’t know how I would keep it together

• It was then that Lea shut off the music, grabbed an outfit (all-black, I couldn’t help but notice), grabbed her coat and bag, and headed to the office. And more lyrics (the aforementioned “Turn Out The Lights”):

There’s a hole in the drywall still not fixed

I just haven’t gotten around to it

And besides, I’m starting to get used to the gaps...

• There’s a third set of lyrics in Lea’s “Letting Go” story, but I’ll get to those in a bit. First, I want to talk about this exceptional sequence in Lea’s little corner of St. B.

• When she speaks to others at work, she’s not really speaking so much as she’s putting on a brave face and listening. 

• It’s the dance I think everyone has to do when recovering from deep personal grief and returning to The Real World simultaneously: Head up, keep breathing, keep it together, seamlessly let well-wisher #1 know you’re OK as you make your way to the elevator…

• Allow yourself to unglue just the slightest bit if you’re blessed with time alone in the elevator (as Lea was). Personally, I’ve found a locked bathroom stall to be a decent place to regroup too…

• Do it all again as well-wisher #2 happens upon you shortly after exiting the elevator. With any luck at all, you’re almost to your destination by now…

• But in Lea’s case, she didn’t make it in there in time to miss well-wisher #3 (Nurse Villanueva). You could see it in her shoulders before she turned around to greet the nurse; it was that Damn-I-was-inches-from-a-clean-getaway stiffening. A.K.A. one more element to note in Paige Spara’s outstanding contributions to this episode.

• At first I didn’t know quite what to make of Villanueva’s revelation that she, too, had suffered miscarriage(s). It felt a little like she was minimizing Lea’s experience by sharing her double whammy of sorrow with a “hey, it happens” approach. But now I’m thinking more about the scene as a whole; how she’d asked Lea how she was doing, Lea offered a tepid “I’m good,” and then Villenueva mentioned her own miscarriages. Seems more like she may have been saying It’s OK, I know “good” is impossible right now. 

• I’m a little relieved that the only visual reminder Lea had in this episode was the very pregnant lady passing her by when she first entered the hospital. I was afraid they’d have Lea happen upon something more personal-- a book of baby names she kept in her drawer at work, for instance-- that would send her into tears in a heartbeat. But there was enough going on with her already-- I wouldn’t rule out events in one or more of the remaining S4 episodes “triggering” her to tears. 

• With Lea only there to “let her phone charge to ten percent” (I think the explanation she gave was legit), The last scene she had at the hospital was the one with Jordan-- and it was surprisingly poignant. Not only did it give a voice to things Lea probably couldn’t yet articulate (“you’re mourning your future”), and MAYBE (fingers crossed) provide foreshadowing in the event Shaun and Lea choose to formally honor their child’s memory… it allowed Jordan to be a part of the connections we witnessed with all the leads as Shaun and Lea left the hospital in “Dr. Ted”. (Incidentally, did anyone notice Wolke was completely absent from this episode?)

• When Shaun comes home early and says they should talk (as per his direction from Glassman), she’s got nothing to say… other than to kind of curse the guy who said they should talk. 

• Shaun didn’t know what exactly they needed to talk about, and as I think we’ve discussed a time or two, he was probably afraid to start the conversation out of great fear of saying the wrong thing. So they sat, socially distanced, you might say, and neither one said anything for about 15 seconds (which feels a lot longer in TV-time). How truly unusual for Lea, who is well-versed in telling Shaun what’s on her mind. Once it became clear that she wouldn’t/couldn’t talk in the way Shaun was hoping, he had to be somewhat bewildered and uncertain what to do next. No wonder he leaped at the opportunity to take Pam Dilallo’s phone call when it broke the silence. 

• Oh, and in case it wasn’t clear by this point of the episode…

• Lea can’t bring herself to talk to her mom, either.

• As many of us had heard ahead of this episode, Julie Werner (the actress who played Pam Dilallo earlier this season) has “Letting Go” listed on her IMDB record of TV appearances. Since her name was not on the official press release of guest stars, I opted not to bring up the possibility in advance-- but, of course, my curiosity was piqued. When all was said and done, Mama D’s VOICE is what made the “appearance”… and what an important part it played. (BTW, Julie Werner’s name did indeed appear on screen with all the other guest stars, so let’s make a mental note that it’s not always the ABC 30-second promos that are misleading…!)

• Bless his heart, Shaun gave 50 of that 60 seconds with Pam his best shot. When it became clear Lea hadn’t yet told her about the miscarriage, he went along with Pam’s stroller talk (which contained a subtle dig on Lea’s judgment, did you notice? Is it any WONDER Lea fears what Mom will say about losing the baby altogether? But I digress...)  

• Shaun made a considerable effort to be polite through his discomfort-- much better than I expected, to be honest. But when Pam ignored Shaun’s efforts to sign off the call, chirping on instead about baby girls and gender-appropriate onesies… well, bless her heart, she inadvertently gave Shaun a way to tap into his own pain.

“That’s stupid. Why would you have to change it-- a girl would like dinosaurs just as much as a boy! Dinosaurs are fascinating! You need to shut up!”

OK, three things:

    1) I’m sad all over again, simply because we won’t get to see Shaun opening the world of dinosaurs to his child anytime soon.

    2) What a great way for Lea to see she’s not alone in her grieving. Not only did Shaun do what Lea’s surely wished to do many, many times (tell Mama D. to zip it)... but she got to see him “not be himself” (as he said later) without him inadvertently taking out his feelings on her. 

    3) The call, from the moment the phone rang to the moment Shaun put it back down on the counter and backed away from it like it had bitten him, was alternately gripping, heartbreaking, and shockingly hilarious. I must admit I shrieked with laughter when the call was over, so loudly, in fact, that my 20-year-old son came in to see what I found so funny. 

They were already on the next scene, so as I tried in vain to explain (he’s only vaguely familiar with the premise of TGD), I reached for the remote and said “Here, let’s back it up and you can see for yourself...:”

“No, don’t do that, you’ll fall behind and you’re trying to live-Tweet--” he semi-protested.

“TOO LATE!”

I don’t think it helped him understand my laughter much better, but hey, I got to watch the scene twice. No regrets.

• When the Mama D. incident prompts Lea to open up a little to Shaun, it doesn’t have the desired effect. 

• Next thing we see is Shaun soothing himself on the patio, toy scalpel in hand. A real conversation takes root this time, but in typical pace for TGD scenes, it only lasts a minute. When Lea took a breath and brought up Claire’s mention of a miscarriage support group at the hospital-- followed in short order by Shaun’s latest medical epiphany, and subsequent exit-- at first I wondered why they brought it up at all. Given what we now know about the remainder of the season-- camping trip for #Shea next week, followed by the two part mission trip/finale--it’s pretty much a given that we aren’t going to see Shaun and Lea sitting in a circle with other formerly expectant parents. I even wondered if they’d given such groups a shout-out as a simple PSA; a follow-up to the slide presented at the end of “Dr. Ted”--

• 
  No, no, no. Lea hints at a way to help drill down
  on their pain, and Shaun instantly bails himself out of the option-- his way, perhaps, of indicating he’s just not ready. It was an interesting reaction on Lea’s part…  rather than linger on Shaun’s seeming non-reaction to her suggestion, she looks more bemused than anything else: Good for you, Shaun, you’re getting your mojo back. Me, not so much.

• Speaking of Mojo... 

  Quite a bit has been said (in social media outlets, if not here on my blog or in the comments) about Shaun’s standout qualities as a doctor and surgeon falling to the wayside this season. Considering his preoccupation with Lea’s pregnancy in recent months, it seemed they were setting up the extremely difficult balance Shaun would face in S5 as both his personal and professional demands intensified. Now that this is a moot point, the timing of Shaun’s extraordinary return to form-- especially piggybacked onto an almost-as-extraordinary misdiagnosis-- is something to watch closely, especially during the mission trip. Yes, the synopsis has Shaun “thriving” in Guatemala, but somewhere along the way he’ll surely encounter his own grief in ways he can’t imagine. I’m quite eager to see how it unfolds.

  But back to the final acts from “Letting Go”...

  • Shaun really triggered the gamut of feels with Dr. Andrews as he hasn’t in quite some time-- intense frustration, embarrassment/anger, sympathy, amazement (the look he gave Shaun when he got that second diagnosis correct-!!)... and then, as they headed out of the hospital together, he slipped into the advisory role in a way Glassman hadn’t quite managed earlier in the episode with his answer to why be with the newly-retired surgeon Dr. Nakano: “We love the same thing, and he knows no one would understand his loss like I would.” 

  
  

  • I know it’s nothing new for TGD regulars or patients-of-the-week to somehow say the very words Shaun needs to help resolve his conflict at hand. But for some reason, it was especially nice to hear it from Andrews this time. 

  
  

  • If it had turned out Shaun was straight-up confused when he got home and heard Lea put the garbage disposal status at the top of her “newsworthy” items, who could blame him? He responds best to verbal cues, after all. But after learning all the things he’d learned that day, he was able to move past the face value of what Lea was saying and doing: 

  
  

  • Multiple unwashed mugs on the table (something Shaun would have freaked out about in the early days)= she feels like a mess, inside and out

  • Didn’t call the landlord yet for the garbage disposal= feels she can’t get anything done/can’t be counted on/can’t do anything right

  • It’s “her fault” if they get bugs (because of her failure to call the landlord)= It’s her fault things are as they are

  • 
    
  • While interpretations like these are
  • incredibly subjective of course, Shaun got the gist of it. Enough to gently put his hands on her shoulders, “steadying” her in a way that was almost as powerful as the embrace that followed. 
  
  
  
  
  

  Maybe she was detailing the non-events of the day because she was afraid to ask for what she really needed from him. Maybe his non-response to her earlier suggestion of the support group caused her to try and keep all the heartbreak to herself. Maybe she needed to articulate her emotions in a way she thought only SHE would understand…

  What were those last lyrics of the night?

  I think if I fail again

  That I know you’re still listening

  Maybe it’s all gonna turn out all right

  I have to believe that it is… have to believe

  When I tell you that it is… Oh it’s not for my benefit

  Maybe it’s all gonna turn out all right

  Oh I know that it’s not 

  But I have to believe that it is

• 
  

Shaun was listening… and even when her verbal communication failed her, he wordlessly found a way to meet her where she was. 

Maybe the true “letting go” is still to come for them, but the journey has definitely begun.