Shock
That was the first thing Korra felt. The news had traveled through her ears, snaking down her spine and shaking her to the very core.
Did he just say what I thought he said?
Denial
No… It can't be! He's… wrong. Their little baby, their little flower couldn't have been gone. She shook her head slowly, the brightness of the room only blinding her even more.
Anger
"Show me proof!" Korra clenched her teeth, looking over at the Doctor.
"There's no heartbeat." The Doctor said back, his face clenching in pain for the mother-to-be.
Korra choked, shuddering at the news. She felt a hand on her back. Mako's usually warm hands felt ice cold against her back. Right now, she felt so cold, yet her whole back was slightly wet from sweat. Perspiration dripped from her skin onto the blinding white sheets.
She looked down at her abdomen, the familiar bump that had barely started to make its appearance still very well there. She moved her arm, ghosting her hand over her own abdomen. She settled her fingertips on the tip of her bump.
She whipped her hand away, sitting straight up.
'The baby is gone. It's not there anymore. I can't get attached.'
"You are too far along to allow your body to pass the fetus on its own. A C-section will be needed. However, we can withhold the procedure to a reasonable time to allow yourself to grieve…"
'Is this guy really suggesting I carry my dead child inside me for longer?'
Korra shook her head slowly, "No. Let's do it now."
She could see out of the corner of her eye Mako shuddering.
The doctor was relatively surprised, but bowed down to the Avatar, "As you wish."
They started her on an IV to prep for the surgery. Mako's hand found Korra's and gave it a strong squeeze.
Korra didn't have the strength to squeeze back.
She also didn't have the power within her to look up at Mako. She could only imagine what his face looked like. She would have a breakdown if she were to look at him right now.
The only thing that was keeping her from falling apart was Mako's hand. She knew she would be a crying mess right now if he wasn't here.
Silence in the room. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, nor comfortable.
It was the only silence that for once had nothing to say.
Korra was trying to focus on something, anything to help her mentally escape the room. She looked at the cold tiles that decorated the floor, intensely studying the pattern. Retracing the pattern over and over with the gaze of her eyes.
Mako squeezed Korra's hands to let her know he was about to speak, "So, I am still betting on girl." He said, and she could see in her peripheral vision the ends of his lips tug into a sad smile.
"Definitely a boy." Korra said, still tracing patterns in the tile.
"We'll see our little flower soon."
Mako had come up with that nickname, considering that their child, if he/she had reached their due date, would be born in spring. He/she would have been their little spring baby, and since spring is known in Republic City for so many colorful and beautiful flowers, he had nicknamed the baby as their "little flower".
At first, Korra laughed at the nickname. Although Mako was embarrassed that he had come up with a nickname, he used it all the time to address their child.
Over time it had stuck with Korra, and she most embarrassingly started to use it also.
She didn't even care anymore if it was a boy or a girl, either way it was their little flower. She didn't care if it was a girly nickname, their son would have to toughen up and listen to that nickname for the rest of his life.
She only noticed that hot tears were escaping her eyes when she felt a cold finger wipe one of them away. She buried her head in the blankets, and she felt a dip in the bed as Mako sat down.
She scooted over, and nearly yanked her IV out.
"Be careful of your IV." Mako reminded softly, laying down next to Korra in the bed. She honestly didn't care for the IV, and she rolled over onto her side and threw an arm over Mako's chest.
She still couldn't bear to look at his face, so she stuffed her own into his chest. Hot breaths came back at her as she breathed heavily into his clothing. Tears seeped from her eyes and the fabric of Mako's shirt soaked them up.
She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out at the awful pain that stabbed at her heart. She just wanted to let go, it was all too much…
She seemed to regain part of her conscience, and she finally pulled her face from the protection of his chest. She lay her head down on it's side on Mako's chest. Hot breath tickled her ear.
"So, daddy. What is the size of our little flower this week?" Korra asked, sniffing.
Mako searched his mind for the answer. Almost as embarrassing as the nickname, Mako had been keeping track of their baby's growth by comparing it to fruits and vegetables.
Mako smiled at the first time he admitted he had been keeping track of the progress.
They had been laying on the bed, only a few weeks after they had found out Korra was pregnant.
"Eight weeks today! That means you, my precious, is the size of a raspberry." He said, rubbing Korra's abdomen, which disappointingly hadn't really started to grow.
He heard Korra laugh, and her body quaked.
His hand still on Korra's stomach, he looked up to her in confusion.
"You're comparing our baby to fruit?" Korra asked, suppressing a laugh.
A blush dusted his cheeks, and his hand found the back of his neck.
"Well, I mean-uhm. There is a chart in the Doctor's office about development, and I just thought I would uhm, you know, keep track." Mako stuttered, avoiding Korra's eyes.
His blush reddened even further so when Korra laughed even louder. He felt her shift, and soon their lips were connected. Korra pulled away from him, looking deep into his eyes.
"You are adorable when you get nervous."
Mako ignored her poking fun at him, and instead blurted the words, "I love you."
Korra's mischievous smirk had vanished, "I love you too."
"Let's see… Twenty weeks? She is the size of a… banana this week." Mako said.
"Or he." Korra reminded.
The c-section had gone well, the Doctor said. Except, there is nothing good about ripping your dead, premature baby away from you.
They had gone to show her the baby, and Korra shut her eyes away. She didn't want to see the baby, she didn't want that attachment. Because she knew it would be that much harder to let their baby go.
"I'll hold." Mako said, beckoning the nurse to come over to him with their baby.
The nurse backed away, and left the room.
Korra kept her head away from Mako, yet she dearly wanted to know the sex.
"Boy or girl?" She asked urgently.
"Korra…" Mako's voice trailed off.
"We have a daughter."
Korra exhaled the long breath she had imprisoned on her lungs, her body quaking. More tears stung her eyes.
A girl. She was the mother to a baby girl.
"It's okay. Please Korra, look. She's beautiful."
She shut her eyes as hard as she could, craning her neck to look over at Mako. She gently opened her raw eyes. She scene she was presented with was beautiful.
She saw the person she looked loves the most, holding the precious thing that would become the most important thing in both of their lives. Both his arms were steel as he held the precious girl that was somewhere in that blanket.
Her heart skipped a beat as Mako carefully handed over the blanket.
She took the blanket, and looked down at what was bundled up in it.
Korra had never seen a premature baby. She was surprised to find their daughter, who was covered in delicate red skin. She wanted to touch her daughter, but she refrained, afraid she would somehow hurt her. Her skin looked so… thin and delicate. Even Korra's fingernail could pierce the skin.
Korra stared at her daughter for the longest time, studying her features.
"It may be too early to tell, but I believe she inherited her mother's nose." Mako said, pointing at the cute nose on their daughter's face. He was right- it did look like Korra's nose. A smooth curve into the tip of a nose that was slightly pointing upward.
Mako was right, their daughter was beautiful.
They both continued to stare at their daughter, mesmerized by her beauty.
.
.
.
"What is her name?" Korra finally asked.
"I'm not sure." Mako admitted.
"I think it should correlate with her nickname." Korra said, still studying her daughter.
Mako nodded, searching his mind for names of springtime.
Korra suddenly remembered a beautiful purple flower she had come across on her first day in Republic City. It was in the City's park, and the astounding purple was the main attention despite all the usual pink and yellow flowers surrounding it.
Now, what was the name of that flower?
"Iris." Korra said aloud.
"How about Iris?" She asked, looking at Mako for his answer.
She saw a smile tug at the end of his lips, and she already knew the answer.
"Perfect."
Bargaining
Looking at Iris so lifeless and so delicate, sent many shocks of pain through Korra.
'Oh spirits, please! Give me back my daughter. I will do anything. Take my life. Take my spirit, and give it to her. Oh please!'
She begged silently, and tears appeared in the corners of her eyes once again.
.
.
.
Depression
The days leading up to their daughters funeral were the most painful days of Korra's life. It had really settled in on the couple that they would have to bury their daughter. Their first child. Their only child.
Korra cried every night, until she had exhausted herself out and soon fell asleep.
The news was broken to the city only a few days after Korra gave birth to Iris. The name had not yet been released. Right now, she only wanted to hear her daughter's name out of the mouth of her family and friends. She wasn't prepared for her daughter's name to be heard and said by the whole world.
Same with the funeral. Korra did not want a huge gathering to be held, she only wanted her friends and family there. This was their baby, their child, their daughter that they lost. It was no one else's. Therefore, she kept the funeral private.
They had a small casket picked out specially for Iris. They decided instead if just a regular funeral, she would float away in the sea in a casket. It was a traditional water tribe funeral, and she suggested the idea to Mako, who liked the idea much better.
Testing
Mako and Korra were always near the casket at the funeral. Always looking over their daughter in some way or another. Because they knew, it would be the last time they were able to be close with their little girl.
They had placed the casket in the water, and Korra and Mako counted in unison.
"Three"
"Two"
"One."
They both let go, and they watched as the tiny casket floated away into the sea, surrounded by shocking blue water, and amazing scenery.
Acceptance
It had started to drizzle. They had slightly expected that, due to the past few days of overcast. They decided it wasn't enough rain to hold the funeral off.
Korra held her eyes on the casket slowly floating away for the longest time, and just before it disappeared from sight, Korra gave a final whisper to her daughter.
"Goodbye, my little flower."
And the words were carried by the weight of the raindrops to the spirit of their daughter, who was emerging from the sea.
.
.
.
Shock
Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance.
These are the seven signs of grief, and honestly it made the backbone to this painful story.
Very painful to write, but this story has been in my head for quite a while, and now I decided to write it.
Leaving a review would be appreciated, constructive criticism is most definitely welcome.