"I am sorry, but the baby's gone," the doctor said as I gather the fabric of my hospital gown. I am laying down on a hospital bed, in a hospital room, and Shayne just sat there, holding his head with both of his hands.
I let go of a breath I didn't knew I was holding. I tried my best to keep my tears from failing, but I failed. The doctor pat my shoulders, and gave me a quick hug before leaving Shayne and I in the room. I cannot dare to look at Shayne right now. I cannot bare to see him like that. Or him to see me like this. Words can't come out of my mouth. Instead, I just stared at the white ceiling.
Shayne stood up and hugged me, still not saying anything.
"I'm sorry, Shayne. This is my fault," I said as I hug him back, crying.
"It's okay," he said, rubbing circles on my back, "We have 2 angels in heaven now."
"Shayne, I'm really sorry,"
-
It's been a week since we lost our baby girl. I recently had a miscarriage, just this year, also with a baby girl. It's still painful to accept the fact that I can't keep our baby alive, and for that, I kept blaming myself, even though Shayne repeatedly assured me that it was not my fault and that God has other plans for us. Shayne got back to work, and I think it's good for him. Comedy has always been his way of coping with things- distracting him from the sadness that I caused him. I resigned from my job months ago, since the doctor suggested that maybe the reason I cannot conceive is because of stress.
Today is Saturday, 10 a.m, and it's Shayne's day-off. I heard him on the other room, moving some stuffs.
I followed him and saw him standing with his arms crossed, staring at our baby pink walls. The baby's nursery.
"We were far along. She was 6 months old," Shayne said, still not averting his gaze from the wall, "Look at those ultrasounds. She was healthy, Sandy."
Shayne turned around and hugged me. "She was healthy, and I don't understand why," he said.
I didn't know what to say, so I just keep on rubbing his back. He pulled away and walked over to the crib.
"She's an angel now. It's sad how I'll never see her here. How I'll never put her here, and watch her as she falls asleep," Shayne said, sniffing.
"Shayne,"
"I would've changed her diapers, feed her bottles of milk, teach her say words, and all those things."
I stood there, speechless, as Shayne collapse to the floor.
"Where did we go wrong?" he said, whispering to himself, "Y/N, help me understand."
I walked over to him and kissed him, "We would try again. Like we always do," I said. I pulled him into my chest and then he hugged my torso, "Why is it so hard to let go of them?" he asks.
"It's because you loved them, Shayne, and I loved them, too. It's hard, but we gotta move forward. We can always try to have another baby. "
I have to be strong for him. For me. For us. This is the time where he needed me the most, and I would do my best to be there for him, just like what he did when we first lost our baby.
"How are you doing this?" he asks as he pulls away his body from mine.
"Well, you taught me how to be strong, and how to hold my shit together when shit falls apart,"
"I love you. You're one of the strongest woman I know," he said.
"I love you, too, Shayne. We'll get through this together."