Gabby’s POV *earlier*


They say that there’s life after death, but part of me died when he left and I haven’t really felt alive since that night. I know I kicked him out and I know I called off the engagement, but what he said to me was too much; he went too far.

I cried for hours and hours that night thinking about what he said. He was right, though. It wasn’t his fault that I couldn’t get pregnant. But to actually say that to me with the state of mind I was in? I couldn’t deal with those words. I knew they were true, but it hurt for him to say that; it hurt like hell.

That night was the worst fight we ever had. He was trying to apologise and I wouldn’t listen to him. I didn’t want to believe it because I didn’t deserve him. He says I’m too good for him when really he’s too good for me.

I’m the one that’s an emotional rollercoaster. He said he wanted kids and I couldn’t face the fear of possibly never being able to give him that.

Three months after he left I started getting sick every morning and I knew that was a sign of pregnancy. I tried not to believe that I might be pregnant because then I had no one to be happy with. Both of the people that I considered parents were dead and the other person that I loved was gone and I was sure he wasn’t coming back. If he were going to, he would have done it by now.

I know I’m the one that screwed up this time, but I thought he would come back. When he didn’t, I thought about looking for him. Then I ended up breaking down and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face my fear of rejection and I already knew he didn’t want a baby right now. I would just be heartbroken again and wasting his time.

When I went into labour, he was all I could think about. I wanted him there in the room with me. I wanted him to be holding my hand and telling me it was going to be okay. But he wasn’t there; I could only imagine.

I had the baby the same day I went into labour and I held her in my arms. When I looked at her, all I could see was him. She looked so much like him. She was beautiful and so fragile. She was ours, but I was the only one who would know. I didn’t know how to tell him and I was scared to think about his possible reaction.

She came home with me the next day and I rocked her, nursed her, sang to her, talked to her as much as I could. She didn’t have two people to do that like she should, so I was trying to make up for the other half missing in her life. It was hard, I will admit that. It was even harder looking at her and seeing him.

That little baby was the closest thing to him I had and I loved her. I loved her with all of my heart that I had left. She was my baby girl…our baby girl.

The day she died was one of the worst days of my life. I cried for weeks after and I still have breakdowns to this day.

I remember how I was holding her, rocking her and trying to get her to calm down. She just started crying out of nowhere. I had no idea why she was, but I tried to make her stop.

I sang her lullabies, rubbed her back, lightly patted her back, tried to bounce her gently, talked to her. I did everything I could think of but nothing was working.

When I started to sway side-to-side with her in my arms was when she finally stopped crying. But it wasn’t like she gradually calmed down, she just stopped.

Her chest was only taking shallow breaths and I called 911. They told me to stay calm and do whatever I could to try and help her breathe until they got there.

The paramedics got there five minutes too late. She was already gone and I was already a mess.

After that I was withdrawn from the outside world. I started doing schooling online again because I didn’t think I could handle going out in public without having multiple breakdowns. Every time I saw a child I thought of her and the way she used to fit perfectly in my arms. I couldn’t take the pain, it was too much.

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