I was alone with the doctor when I found out. I had come in for an emergency appointment when I noticed the tiniest of smears on my toilet paper. Booth had asked if he should come with me but I told him it was just a routine appointment and pretended that I forgot to tell him about it.

"You shouldn't miss work on such short notice,"

"You sure Bones?"

"It's nothing," I smiled. He kissed my forehead and walked out the door. I was eleven weeks along. There had been no problems before this. It was my second pregnancy; I knew that strange fluids and sensations were the order of the day. I sounded frantic over the phone; the nurse tried to be reassuring but wasn't very successful. I needed to be completely certain.

The doctor- she wasn't my regular doctor just the doctor on call that day- started the sonogram. It was taking longer than usual. "Everything okay?" I asked. No response. It was like that for what seemed like an eternity.

"I'm sorry," I didn't understand. What was she sorry about? Was the machine not working correctly? Was that the reason the baby hadn't been doing much of anything? She explained that it wasn't my fault and there was nothing I could have done. It hadn't even occurred to me that it might have been something I had done. My mind raced with the possibilities. It didn't make sense I hadn't changed anything, I did everything as I did with Christine what went wrong? How will I tell Booth?

I am probably the only woman out there who has a problem with the word miscarriage. It sounds like it was my fault: Whoopsie I dropped the baby, I was carrying him all wrong. And the alternatives….. I lost the baby? How bad of a mother do you have to be to misplace a baby that is still inside of you? "The baby died" is a little too direct for Booth. And let's not be dramatic it wasn't quite a baby yet. Almost but not yet. She handed me a few tissues.

"I'll give you a minute, If you would like to call someone, I'll be back to discuss further procedures with you."

"Thank you Doctor," I stared at my phone for a little unsure if I should call Booth or just wait until he got home. I decided to call Booth; I repeated the doctor's words. We sat in a silence for a moment when he finally said I'll be over as soon as I can. The nurse brought in a cup of water and apologized once again I didn't say anything just stared at the wall as tears rolled down my face. I took a moment to calm down and drove home. I knew Booth would want to talk about this but I simply didn't know what to say.

I sat on the bed and listened for the car door. I remembered asking Booth to stop and get Christine before coming home so I picked up a magazine and began to read an article on Jiao bodhisattva in Buddhism, who serves as a guide for lost and unborn children. I sobbed as I read the article and for the first time ever I found myself praying my child would find its way to his grandmother. Booth was starting to rub off on me. I know heaven and God aren't real but for some reason thinking that my mother would eventually have my child in her arms gave me comfort.

Booth is home. I put the magazine on the night stand and pretended to sleep. I curled up and hoped Booth wouldn't notice I was awake. I wasn't ready to confront the reality of what had happened today; not yet. He moves my hair out of my face and kisses my cheek. He moves his hand down to my abdomen and whispers. I can hear the disappointment in his voice. I can't avoid him forever.