Disclaimer: I own nothing
Don't ask me why I felt the need to write this. As a mother, I couldn't imagine going through this myself. But so many do, and I guess I just got inspired for some reason to write a story about it. Don't worry, it hurts me as much as it's gonna hurt you. So no getting mad at me, even though you probably will.
I won't even say sit back and enjoy, cause this is gonna hurt.
Love always,
Avoline
He stood by the crib, one hand on the rail, his deep brown eyes shining with pain. He had been so excited, promising not to make the same mistakes as before. He even thanked the Winchesters for the whole curing ordeal, cause he couldn't imagine feeling anything but joy at the idea of being a father again. When she told him it was a girl, he didn't even try to hide the tears in his eyes. "A little girl," he had murmured. One he could spoil and dote upon for the rest of her life.
But the second scan had showed something off, and her heart broke when she got the news. He was in denial at first, assuring her time and time again that the baby would be fine. He swore that it wouldn't be that bad, and that she would live, even if she was forever dependent on someone else. And she almost believed him, cause he was so sure and confident. He wouldn't lie to her, even if he was a half-cured demon.
She wasn't angry that his reassurances became lies when the doctors told you the baby didn't make it. She couldn't be mad at him, cause his pain was just as great as hers. She watched every ounce of joy in his eyes diminish, only to be replaced with sorrow and a pain no one should know. All of his dreams crashed right along with hers, destroyed by a disorder that couldn't be prevented.
Now, only three months after burying their little miracle, she finds him in what was supposed to be her nursery, staring into the crib she was supposed to be in. She felt overwhelming guilt, cause in the midst of her pain, she had forgotten about him. She had forgotten his excitement, how he had said she was his second chance, and she felt so horrible for neglecting how much he would need her. She could barely see the tremor in his hand, a sign of how hard he was holding back, and she wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold that hand.
"Crowley," she called cautiously, unsure if she would be met with tears or rage. But her nervousness soon turned to a mix of pain and empathy as his somber face turned to her. "I'm sorry. Crowley, I'm so sorry."
"Sorry," he echoed softly, and she began to worry that she had misread him. "Darling, you've nothing to be sorry for. This isn't your fault, love." A tear slipped down his face, and she stepped towards him, arms reaching for him. "We only got to have her in our lives for a few hours. We didn't even get to put her in her coming home outfit. Why did she have to go?"
She felt her heart break again as he rested his head on her shoulder. She had the same question and them some. Why did Trisomy 18 have to take their little girl? Did she feel how much they loved her, in spite of how little time they had with her? Who would she have been if she had lived? Her gaze turned to the little pink blanket draped over the side of the crib, tears clouding her vision. It wasn't fair, would never be fair. He deserved to try being a father again, yet it was all taken from him, from both of them.
"I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry," she whispered, her hand rubbing his back while his tears soaked her t-shirt. "I should have been there for you. I shouldn't have ignored you. You needed me."
"You needed me to be strong," he forced out, his fingers caressing the back of her neck. "You were so distraught, and I couldn't let you deal with it alone."
"That's no excuse for me ignoring your pain," she countered. "I wasn't being fair." He pushed her away and paced in front of the crib, his face soaked with evidence of his sorrow.
"Fair," he spat, his brogue thickening slightly. "Fair? What's bloody fair about any of this? Our child, our precious Sophie, is fucking DEAD! All of this around us, gone to waste, because of a goddamn disorder that's more merciless than fucking Abbadon!" He finally stopped, the trembling worse than before, an exhausted look in his eyes. "We should be holding her in our arms and griping about how much diapers cost. We should be sleep deprived, surviving off coffee and sheer will power and enjoying every minute of it. Not standing in an empty nursery, grieving for what could have been. What should have been." She moved to stand before him, gently wiping the tears away.
"I know," she soothed, her own voice choked. "I know. I've asked myself, over and over again, why she had to die. And I don't think we'll ever know." His arms encircled her again, and she held him as tightly as he held her. "I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave your side. Get angry, punch and throw shit, but I'll still be here. I left you emotionally. I won't do it again. You can let go now."
A sob tore from his throat, and they sank to the ground, wrapped in each other's embrace. She rested her back against the empty crib, giving him his moment to fully grieve for the tiny life that was lost, and her heart ached for him. She had never seen him so vulnerable, so broken, and it killed her to see him like this. He clung to her, almost as if she were his lifeline.
"We'll try again," she promised. "When you're ready, when we're both ready, we'll try again. I still want kids, Crowley, and I want them with you." His grip tightened around her, and she combed the short brown strands. "The next one will be stronger, I promise. And if it happens again, we'll keep trying. I won't give up, Crowley. Not as long as I live." His head rested on her collar, his tears now falling onto her skin, and he nodded.
"I do too," he muttered. "I need you. And I want to try being a father again. I swear, we will have a child, if not three or four." She managed a laugh at his words. "I love you. And I loved Sophie. I'll always miss her. But I want children with you, and I won't stop until we have one." She smiled and kissed his head.
"For now, let's focus on healing."
One in every 5,000 babies are born with Trisomy 18, many of which are little girls. Most babies don't live past the second or third trimester. Of the few that do, less than 10% live to see their first birthday. Even less live to their 20s or 30s due to the severity of their health problems. While rare, Trisomy 18, also known as Edwards Syndrome, is devastating to both the parents and the child.