“Not your fault,” he said gruffly as if he too had a lump lodged in his throat. “Never your fault.”
His reassurance made me want to break down again. It was like he knew I took the blame. That all of this was on me. Because I didn’t call the doctor fast enough and that got our daughter killed. If I had gotten here the minute I felt the shift and inkling of worry, maybe she would be alive right now. Maybe...
Tears formed in my eyes again, which only burned my sensitive ducts.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered brokenly.
He leaned in, kissing me softly as he wrapped his arms around me.
“Lana,” Dr. Williams said gently.
As I leaned away from Drew, I sniffled, glancing at the doctor as she came to my side. She must have stepped away during my breakdown. I silently thanked her and the nurse for not stopping me from having it. I was sure this was something they dealt with often, but it felt so personal because it was me. It was the end of my world.
“I’m so sorry for your loss. I know this is very hard to go through, but we will be here every step of the way.” She rubbed my arm in reassurance.
Gripping my husband’s hand, I took a deep, shaky breath to keep myself from screaming again.
“What do we do now?” I asked with a crack in my voice. It took so much in me to ask that question. But it sounded so distant and unfeeling. Like what would happen next was some type of deal or arrangement of buying a plot of land and not about a human life.
And with those stiff words, another piece of me was ripped away. I would never get to see my daughter. Never watch her grow and mark her height on a doorway over the years for memories. Or witness her first smile, giggles, steps, and so many more firsts. Never get to know her and witness her fiery spirit instead of feeling it inside me.
I had so many wants and plans for my daughter, showing her the deepest love and teaching her to love and be kind. I wanted her to be the change that I knew she was. I felt that when I got the positive test. That she was the start of something big and so desperately needed. Sowanted.
She was a blessing... I knew she was.
Why was she taken away from me? From the world?
I knew she had a purpose. I felt it in my bones andknew.
It wasn’t just me who needed her. There were people out there who needed her. Someone who wanted her just as much as I did, if not more. It wasn’t something I ever told anyone, not even the church. I knew how crazy it sounded to think that about a baby. But I knew, deep in my bones. Deep in her soul, which had been connected with me as I carried her. And now the connection was gone. It’d been suffocated and taken away.
And I couldn’t imagine what needed to be done now that she wasn’t alive. I’d never thought of these things. I’d never expected this to happen to me. I was so secure in knowing my baby was healthy and due in three weeks.
The doctor gave me a gentle look and rubbed my arm in comfort. “We have to induce you for the baby to come out as soon as possible.”
I knew she wanted to say more from the way her mouth opened, the words there on the tip of her tongue, then closed it as she stopped herself from saying them.
My hand found my swollen belly, rubbing the mound as my heart broke again at the thought of my child... dead. Why did it feel so fresh every time with the awful reminder?
I wasn’t stupid. I knew her little body had probably already started decomposing. The doctor stopped herself from saying that, I was sure.
Swallowing around the lump in my throat, my pulse hammered in my ears until it deafened me. My eyes shifted to Drew’s. His hazel orbs watched me with sorrow, tears still shining in them. His jaw clenched as he held back from sobbing.
As we stared into each other’s eyes, silently communicating to each other through the gaze, my heart shattered.
I failed him. I failed to give him the sweet baby girl he’d been so happy about when I showed him the positive pregnancy test.
And this blessing—our child—was taken from us.
Were we being punished? Were we offered fruit from the Garden of Eden only for it to be ripped from our grasp once tasted?
God wouldn’t do that.
He couldn’t...
I sniffled, blinking away the tears stinging my eyes. They blurred my vision, making Drew a fuzzy blob. I nodded, my lip trembling, and turned to the doctor again.
“Okay,” I whispered heartbrokenly.
