Page 45 of One Last Time

She shakes her head as the tears continue to fall. She gets to her knees, her hands resting in her lap as she keeps her eyes on me. They’re vacant as though she’s seeing anything but me. “I thought everything was fine,” her voice catches as her body wracks with another sob, “I went to the appointment. I was flying back to you the next day, ready to surprise you. I was so happy.” She shakes her head. “I hadn’t been that happy in a very long time, the closest was being back with you.”

My mouth dries at her words. Fuck. She’s gutting me. Every word she says is like a knife in my heart.

“I sat in that fucking chair,” she spits out. “The nurse ran that wand over my stomach. I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen. It was so perfect. Our baby was so beautiful. I saw her.” Her eyes close as pain tears through her features. “I didn’t realize that anything was wrong, I was just so consumed with what was on the screen.”

She’s got to stop, this is too fucking much, and I’ve not even heard the worst part yet.

“I took pictures.” She lets out a bitter, painful laugh. “The ultrasound technician didn’t tell me. I took pictures, Si.” The tears are ever flowing. “When the doctor came in and told me there was no heartbeat. I didn’t believe her.”

She shakily gets to her feet and moves to the French windows that faces out onto the ocean. She turns so that her back is to me, and I watch as she wraps her arms around her stomach, I can see her fingertips as she clings to her sweater. I’m still rooted to the spot, unable to move as I listen to her spill all her wounds open for me.

“But I didn’t hear that whomping sound I had heard at six weeks. The baby didn’t move the entire time I was snapping pictures, our baby didn’t move.” Her head bows as her breath hitches. “She stopped growing at nine weeks. I didn’t know. I didn’t fucking know!” Her voice is getting louder. “How could I not know? My baby was dead for three weeks, and I had no idea.”

I’m moving, I don’t even think about it, within seconds, I’m wrapping her up into my arms. “Baby.”

She shakes her head. “What kind of mom am I? I didn’t know,” she whispers as she collapses against me.

I bite back the sob that’s threatening to fall. Fuck. How the hell did she go through this alone? “Baby, please don’t do this,” I plead with her, she’ll fuck with her head thinking that shit. “You’re going to be a great mom, when it’s our time.”

She turns and buries her head into my chest. “After I found out that she died, I had to schedule a procedure,” she tells me, her voice muffled against my tee. “The amniotic sac kept growing even though the baby didn’t.”

My hand tangles in her hair, loving the softness of it. “What procedure, baby?” I have no fucking idea what goes on with pregnancy.

“The baby was still inside of me, sometimes it goes away naturally, but she didn’t.” Her voice is laced with pain, and I close my eyes, hating that she’s hurting and knowing there’s nothing I can do about it. “Three days, she was inside me for another three days. I never felt so much despair. Knowing that she was dead and there was no way that she was coming back.”

I press my lips to the top of her head, unable to say a word. I can’t imagine having to go through that. It fucking kills me to listen to her talk about it.

“Walking into that clinic was horrendous. Knowing that when I left, I’d be walking out without my baby.” Her body buckles, and I catch her just before she goes down.

I swing her up into my arms and walk over to the sofa, her arms wrap around my neck, and she buries her head into my chest once again. Once we’re seated, I keep a tight hold on her, unwilling to let her go. I don’t think I could ever let her go, even if I tried. “Carry on, baby.” My voice is hoarse, and my eyes filled with tears. I’ve never been as fucking gutted as I am right now.

“It took ages before I went in for my surgery, I’m not sure how long I was waiting before they finally called me in. I’m grateful that I was put to sleep; when I woke up, my baby was gone.”

I pull her tighter into my arms, “Were you alone?”

She nods. “Bianca wanted to be there, but I wouldn’t let her, she picked me up afterwards. I got home, and I didn’t leave my bed for three days.”

“Baby, you should have called me,” I tell her softly as I start to rock her in my arms.

“I didn’t want you to hate me,” she whispers.

I pull her back so that she’s looking at me, her eyes filled with tears, they’re red and puffy, and I have no doubt that she’s been like this since it’s happened. I should have been here for her. “I don’t hate you. I think you’re fucking amazing. You went through this alone. You shouldn’t have. I would have been here with you every fucking step of the way.”

“Our baby died…” she gasps as though she’s trying to catch her breath.

I nod. “I know, baby, but I also know that there's nothing you could have done.” I know that deep in my heart. When she was talking about her finding out she was pregnant, I could tell how excited she was.

“I didn’t want you to feel this pain. I don’t want anyone to ever feel this pain.” She rests her forehead against mine, and I kiss her nose. “It hurts so fucking much, Si. I feel as though I’m drowning… that I’m in this fog, and I can’t break through.”

“We’re going to get you there,” I tell her. “I’m going to be right here by your side,” I promise her; there’s nowhere I’d rather be. Payton has always been mine, and seeing her like has practically brought me to my knees.

“I’m sorry that I never told you.”

I’m not sure if I’m grateful or not. A part of me wants to be mad that I didn’t know, but then if I did, I’d feel even fucking more distraught than I feel right now. “I understand why you did it, baby, but never again, no more secrets.”

She nods, “I promise. Thank you for coming here.”

I take her face into my hands. “Always, baby, I’ll always be here for you.” For the first time in over three months, I kiss her.

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