Hello everybody, thank you for all the lovely reviews and if anybody has any ideas of what they would like to happen or what they want my next story to be, then please tell me ! P.S don't hate me for this part :)
There's nothing. No sound, just a hollow silence where my baby's heartbeat should be. The sonographer gently removes the scanner and wipes the gel off my abdomen, her and her technician both say, "I'm so sorry," and then shuffle all the equipment out of the room, silently. Every member of staff present in the room bows their heads and clasps their hands as a mark of sorrow.
I sit there in a stunned silence. Too shocked to move, speak, to cry, it's using all of my energy just to think. I sit there staring at something I cannot see. Kathryn comes and puts a hand on my shoulder, I can see there are tears in her eyes when she looks me in the eyes and says, "I am so sorry Prim," her voice husky like she is about cry. I want to hug her, to comfort her and tell her she has nothing to be sorry for, but I know that's not how she meant it. Instead I say in a tiny voice, "I want my mother."
I am moved into a side room, on the other side of the hospital, away from the maternity ward. But it doesn't stop me seeing the mother's -to-be or the new mothers, one's with babies in their arms or by their side in a car-seat or stroller. I envy them, they have the chance that I don't, the chance to become a mother. To be loved unconditionally, to have someone rely on you, to know you will always be loved.
A harassed Rory bursts into my room. His face is etched with worry and as soon as he sees me, he hugs me so hard that it feels like he'll never let me go. "Prim, what's wrong? I got a call from Haymitch saying you were in hospital and then I get a call from my boss saying you phoned and that you didn't sound well at all. Please, please tell me." I feel sorry for him, he doesn't know that what the nurse is about to tell him will kill him, quite possibly in the literal sense. I would tell him but I can't speak.
The nurse beckons him outside into the hallway and I can see her lips moving. He shakes his head in denial at her words and comes back in, looking like a lost little boy.
"No, NO. It's not true. Prim, please tell me it's not true. Please, please…" he pleads, his words petering out as no assurance is forthcoming.
My face crumples and I start to sob, big, great, heavy sobs. I nod. That single action is enough to make Rory crumple as well. He wraps his arms around me and I rely on his strength to keep me upright. The nurse leaves, gently shutting the door behind her. It's this action that makes me sob louder. It's this action that reminds me, no matter how much the person loves me, I will always end up on my own.
****Later***
The darkness is full of judgement. In the dark I see all the people who I could have helped or who I have hurt. I am still in hospital, in the same room, in the same bed. Rory is beside me, his arm around me, which helps me keep steady. My mother and sister are in the room next door, overcoming their differences for once and just accepting each other as a source of comfort. I would be overjoyed at this if the whole reason for them getting along wasn't based on my loss.
I have comforted mothers who have lost their child, either by miscarriage, stillbirth or a horrible twist of fate. Each time I have said I know what your going through figuring that losing any family member is as horrible as losing your child, But it isn't. I hadn't even known that I'd loved my baby this much, it wasn't even a baby yet. Just a ball of tissue, organs but it was alive. It had a heart, a brain. I feel as though a part of me has died, that a piece of my heart has been ripped out. I start to heave again, thinking of the family I will never have.
"Prim is that you?" says Rory, his voice a whisper in the dark. I turn to face him and then bury my face in his chest. His chest starts to heave, so he's crying as well. I haven't heard him cry in years, not since his brother died in a electric accident in district five. But this time it's personal, we have lost something that was created with love, something that was part of us. I take a deep breath, inhaling the woodland scent of his shirt. It's the one he had on today, in the wood-shop, so it smells of pine, mahogany and all other woods. It smells like home. We fall asleep, our bodies entwined, holding onto each other for dear life.
The winter sunlight streams through the window, waking me up. I don't want it to be sunny, I want the weather to be cloudy and miserable, to match the way I am feeling. I want the whole world to stop turning because I have lost. But that would mean being selfish, and I hate selfish people. I am still in Rory's arms, my eyes feeling raw and sore. I want to say something but I can't. My throat feels like it's swelled shut and it's all I can do to breathe. I feel a sob rising in my chest, I squash it back down though, there has been enough tears.
Rory awakes. His eyes are red so God knows how mine's must look, I probably look like I've been drinking.
"How are you ?" he asks gently, putting a hand on my stomach. I gently shake my head. What I'm feeling is too big for words .
"Me too," he says, nodding. Rory starts getting up, I want to cling onto him, ask him to never leave me but he needs to work. We need money.
"I wouldn't leave you Prim, I really don't want to but I have to finish this order today or we lose the client who will give us much-needed money. Once I finish it though, I'll be back. I promise." and with that, he leaves. Gone to have a shower and work.
I understand him wanting to work. It's like a painkiller, a drug, something which helps numb the pain you're feeling inside. When his brother died, he worked crazy hours. Making items that nobody had asked for, spending ages on them, making them perfectly detailed so it took longer. That went on for about a month, until I could convince him to talk to me. I often wonder why I chose nursing as a profession. Was it because it was something I had in my blood- being my mother's daughter ? Was it something I enjoyed doing ? Was it because I liked helping people, getting to see the joy when I make them better ? Or was it because I'd rather listen and fix somebody else's pain, than focus on my own ?
My mother opens the door. I can see that she's worried about me, worried about how I'll react to anything she might say. I smile weakly to let her know that I won't bite her head off, and she steps into the room, closing the door softly behind her. Mother stands by my bedside and opens her arms, I fall into them. I crumple against her, smelling the lavender scent of her blouse. The smell of my childhood.
"I love you mommy," I cry, a name which I have not called her since I was twelve. A name that go buried with the remains of my childhood.
"I love you too," she says, rocking me back and forth. It's soothing. "We will get through this. I promise," she sounds so determined that I almost believe her, almost.
Katniss creeps into the room. She comes around to my other side and starts stroking my hair, murmuring words of comfort. I cry harder, accepting the comfort from both of them. It feels strange, both of them comforting me at the same time. It was usually only one or the other. Mother was there until I was seven, Katniss was from there onwards.
All of a sudden I can't take it anymore.
"Stop it," I yell angrily, making them both jump back, away from me.
"Stop what?" my mother asks.
"Just stop it !" I shout again, wanting to get rid of the voices that are in my head.
I look at my sister. Katniss looks like I've just slapped her, her cheeks flushed and her mouth open in surprise. I have never spoken to her like that, never wanted to. But things are different now. My mother just looks weary, a look I recognise. I remember when she used to argue a lot with Katniss, she used to wear that look. No wonder she doesn't look surprised, she's used to it.
"Stop what?" she asks again, taking baby steps towards me. Baby. I start to cry again, feeling sorry for myself. I cry so hard that I can hardly hear myself when I speak:
"Stop pretending everything's going to be alright."