Page 35 of Dark Truths

“It’s okay,” she soothes into my ear as silent tears fall from my eyes. “It’ll be okay.”

Somehow, it doesn’t feel like it. Somehow, it feels like a bad omen.?

“Ms. DiAngelo,” a woman in a white coat greets me as she enters my room. “Hello, I’m Doctor Lopez.”

“Hi.” I gesture to my mom. “This is my mother.”

“Wonderful to meet you both.”

She’s being too polite. I don’t like polite. It’s used to cover up the unpleasant. “What is it?” I ask, jumping straight to the manner at hand.

Doctor Lopez clears her throat and taps the tablet screen. “Your labs report a level of hCG consistent with pregnancy.”

“But?” There’s abutin there.I can feel it.

“But it’s a value that cannot withstand pregnancy.”

“So I’m having a miscarriage?”

She bows her head. “Yes. I’m terribly sorry, Ms. DiAngelo.”

I nod, my eyes dropping to my lap as my mom reaches out to cover my clasped hands. She squeezes tightly, just hard enough to remind me of her presence and comfort. “How far along was I?”

“No more than a month. It’s what we call a chemical miscarriage. There was nothing you could have done differently.”

I know all of this. I’ve studied about it in heavy detail. I’ve been in her shoes, been the one to give the unfortunate news.?

The fetus doesn’t have a heartbeat capable of even being detected at this point. Which is why it’s called a chemical miscarriage, because pregnancy can only be confirmed by blood tests or a urine sample.?

“What now, Doctor?” Mom asks for her own sake, not mine, because I already know what happens.

“She’ll experience some heavy bleeding for a few days, some cramping but otherwise discomfort as if she’s having her period.”

“Any long-term side effects?”

“No. But if she develops a fever or her bleeding gets worse, she’ll need to come back in.”

“When can I go home?” I ask, interrupting them. I don’t want to hear any more about this. Just sleep. That’s all I want. At least there, I can escape reality.

“We’d like to keep you for a few more hours just to confirm the diagnosis and run one more blood test.”

I nod and then curl up on my side, cradling the warm heating pad to my abdomen where a baby was growing, but no longer is now. Distantly, I can hear the doctor and my mom talking, but it just sounds like loud noise now.?

Eventually, the doctor leaves, closing the door behind her. Mom comes around the bed and sits in the chair pulled close to the bed and takes my hand in hers. “Gabriella, I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t even know about it. How can I grieve for something I didn’t know was there?”

“It’s okay to grieve what could have been. It’s okay to be sad for the life lost.”

My eyes burn with unwanted tears. I am sad about the baby. I am. I just don’t know how to grieve.?

“If it’s alright, Mom…I’m tired. The pain meds are making me drowsy.”

She pats my hand. I know it must be hard for her to do nothing and be unable to do anything.?

“Is there anyone you’d like me to call?”

A clever way of asking if I’d like to call the father.

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