Author's note: Remember my warning? You might want to have some tissues handy if you are like me and get emotional easily.
As they headed towards Baker Street to pick up Martha, Sherlock said to Molly, "Wasn't the sermon excellent today, Molly? I can't believe so many people have tried to find ways to dispute the veracity of the resurrection."
He felt Molly's eyes on him. "If you had not been a believer, how would you have tried to dispute the truth of the resurrection?"
His lips quirked. "Honestly, Molly, I don't know. When reading the established narrative of the Bible, I cannot think of any logic that could disprove the Biblical account. Nobody in their right mind would believe any of the theories as set forth by Pastor Briggs if they approached it with simple logic. Unfortunately, many people simply refuse to even research things for themselves or read the Bible. They want to put their heads in the sand and pretend the Bible doesn't exist, or that it is merely some work of fiction."
Molly sighed. "That's true. Or their views become distorted through doctrine that is added to the Bible rather than taken from the Bible itself. I just wish people could understand that there is freedom in Christ, rather than the obligation many seem to think is to be found with religion in general."
Sherlock always loved Molly's passion for her faith, her desire for others to experience that same freedom. "All we can do is live our faith and share it with others, Molly. That's our only mission. It isn't to force people to believe, but to show instead how our faith has changed us and given us that freedom."
"You know, we probably should have had this casual discussion in front of Martha," Molly commented.
He flashed her a quick grin. "Perhaps we can bring up the sermon during dinner instead."
"Oh, I like that idea."
They arrived at Baker Street, and Molly moved to sit in the back seat so that Martha could sit in the front.
When they arrived home, after Sherlock and Molly had removed Victoria and Christina's jackets, Martha exclaimed, "Oh, the girls look so adorable, Molly, and I see you match them as well."
"Molly has been looking forward to Easter for some time," Sherlock informed his former landlady with a grin.
Martha brought out a plastic bag from her voluminous handbag. "I have something for the girls."
This turned out to be more chocolate, including another chocolate Easter Bunny. Victoria, of course, was delighted.
"Thank you, Nanny!" she exclaimed, offering Martha a kiss.
They sat together in the front room to await the arrival of Sherlock's parents. Mycroft had arranged for their transportation to and from London via his own town car.
When the doorbell rang to announce their arrival, Victoria was the first to the front door.
As soon as Sherlock opened it, he was surprised by the rush of affection he felt at seeing his parents. He hadn't realised until that moment how much he had missed seeing them regularly.
Hugs and kisses of greeting were exchanged by all.
Victoria and Christina, of course, received the most attention as Sherlock's parents exclaimed about how much they had grown and how beautiful they looked in their Easter dresses.
They too had brought Easter chocolate for the girls.
Guess I won't have to buy any chocolate for bribing purposes for quite some time, Sherlock thought to himself with amusement, as he put all the chocolate into a cupboard. If he left it out, Victoria would want to keep eating it.
In honour of the family gathering, Sherlock brought out his phone again for some family photos before Molly changed the girls out of their dresses. Sherlock privately thought it was rather silly to go to so much effort if they were only to wear the dresses for a few hours, rather than the whole day, but Molly insisted that she didn't want the dresses getting dirty. He wondered if they would even wear the dresses again. Probably not. But he knew better than to make that comment.
Bearing in mind the plans for an early dinner, Molly and Martha prepared sandwiches for lunch for everyone, and they talked at the dining table as they ate. Most of the conversation was between the women, with occasional interjections by Sherlock or his father.
As soon as lunch was over, Molly got up to begin the preparations for dinner. Sherlock's mother and Martha joined her, while Sherlock and his father took Victoria and Christina into the front room.
Being a man of few words, Sherlock's father seemed content to watch his granddaughters play, and Sherlock didn't mind not having to carry a conversation.
When the women returned to the room half an hour later, Molly came to sit beside Sherlock.
"Preparations all done?"
She gave him a slightly weary smile. "The turkey is in the oven and the vegetables are ready to join it."
He glanced over to make sure his parents weren't looking, before asking quietly, "You're not overdoing it, are you? Are you still having pains?"
She didn't quite meet his eyes. "I'm fine, Sherlock."
He didn't think that was quite the truth and pursed his lips, but decided to drop the subject for now.
For the next hour and a half, the adults talked and watched Victoria and Christina. When Christina grew sleepy, Sherlock's mother took her in her arms and rocked her to sleep.
At three o'clock, Sherlock heard the kitchen timer go off. "Time to put the veggies in the oven," Molly said and stood.
"Would you like me to do it?" offered Sherlock.
"No, it's okay, I need to get up and use the loo anyway."
He watched her leave the front room, then returned his attention to his father, who was reading a storybook to Victoria. It was nice to see his father actively spending time in entertaining her.
Minutes later, he heard Molly returning to the room and looked towards the door.
She appeared, and immediately he saw how pale she was. "Sherlock..." Her voice faltered, and she swayed.
Instinctively, Sherlock sprang up and went to her, even as she collapsed into his arms. "Molly!" he exclaimed. He lifted her properly and carried her over to the sofa. Martha had been sitting at the end of the sofa, but she had risen in concern at the same time as Sherlock.
Sherlock's mother too looked worried but, with Christina in her arms, she was unable to do anything. Sherlock's father stopped reading, and Victoria jumped off his lap to go to the sofa. "Mummy, what's wong?"
Even as Sherlock gently laid Molly's head against a cushion, her eyes fluttered open.
"I'll get her a glass of water," said Martha, hurrying from the room.
Molly raised a hand to touch Victoria reassuringly. "It's okay, Victoria, Mummy's okay, just a bit tired. Go back to Grandpa. Mummy needs to tell Daddy something."
Victoria bit her lip, then nodded and returned to Sherlock's father. He scooped her back onto his lap and resumed reading.
Sherlock looked at Molly anxiously. "Are you dehydrated, love? You look really pale. I've never known you to faint before."
Tears filled her eyes and she tugged him close. "It's more than that. I just went to the loo and..." a tear slid down her cheek. "I'm bleeding, Sherlock. I think I'm having a miscarriage."
Sherlock drew in a deep breath. "Oh, God." This was what he'd secretly feared when she had told him she'd been having pains. He felt his own eyes fill with tears. Why today of all days?
Martha returned with the glass of water and extended it to Molly.
"Thank you." Molly took the proffered glass and sipped it.
Sherlock's mother said, from where she sat in the armchair with a still-slumbering Christina, "What is going on, Sherlock?"
Sherlock made a decision. He looked at his mother. "I'm taking Molly to A&E."
"What? Why?" his mother demanded. "Why do you look as if you've lost your best friend?"
He blinked back his tears as he responded, keeping his voice low so Victoria wouldn't hear. "Not my best friend, Mummy. We were going to tell you after dinner that Molly's pregnant, but she hasn't been feeling well this morning, and she thinks she's having a miscarriage, so I'm taking her to A&E now."
"What about the dinner?" Molly protested weakly. "I don't want to go to the hospital."
He gave her a stern look. "I don't care about the bloody dinner, Molly. I care about you. I'm taking you to A&E, whether you like it or not." Then he added, seeing the stubborn look on her face, "For my own peace of mind." He saw her expression soften. Where she would have denied going for her own sake, he knew she wouldn't deny him.
"Yes, don't worry about the dinner, Molly," chimed in Martha. "You and Sherlock do what you have to do. Between the three of us we can manage the girls and dinner." Sherlock saw the look of sympathy in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, dears. I...I had a miscarriage too, very early in my marriage."
Now that was something Sherlock had never deduced. It was fortunate that Sherlock's father's voice had remained steady as he continued to read, obviously trying to keep Victoria distracted.
"Should I call an ambulance?" he wondered aloud.
Molly frowned and sat up. "Of course not." Suddenly her voice was no nonsense as she added, "Get me a pad from upstairs, bottom drawer of the bedside table, Oh, and a clean pair of knickers."
He couldn't help admiring her even more than usual. She was most likely having a miscarriage, for God's sake, yet she was acting as if this was something that happened every day. "Okay, love. I'll be right back. In the meantime, keep drinking that water."
She nodded, and he headed upstairs to do her bidding.
Ten minutes later, after assuring an anxious Victoria that Mummy and Daddy had to go out for a little while but would be back soon, Sherlock helped Molly into the car.
"Are you okay if we go to A&E at University College Hospital, because I'm familiar with it?" he asked, as he started the engine. He knew that hospital well enough, seeing as Molly had given birth to their two daughters there. "Otherwise, I'll have to look for another one."
"That's fine, Sherlock," said Molly in a resigned tone. "But really, it isn't an emergency. People have miscarriages all the time."
He pursed his lips. "I don't care about other people right now, Molly. This is not open for discussion."
One good thing about COVID, reflected Sherlock a little while later when they walked into A&E at University College Hospital, is that most people avoid the hospital like the plague unless they are desperate.
After going through a temperature check and making assurances that they had not been in contact lately with anyone with COVID and other standard questions in this COVID era, and after explaining that he believed his wife was having a miscarriage, Sherlock and Molly sat in the almost empty waiting room.
They didn't have to wait long.
Within fifteen minutes, they were shown to a room, and Molly was given a hospital gown to change into.
A nurse appeared to take Molly's blood pressure and temperature and her pulse.
"Anything out of the ordinary?" asked Sherlock.
"Blood pressure, pulse and temperature are all normal.," she said. "The doctor will be in soon to speak with you."
A short while later, a doctor came to consult with them.
Molly explained her symptoms, that she was eight weeks pregnant, and that she had been experiencing some cramping and had begun bleeding.
Dr. Simpson, who had been busily typing on a laptop as she spoke, looked up. "Your symptoms are consistent with miscarriage, but these can also be just early pregnancy symptoms, so I suggest we take a look to see what is going on. Seeing as you are still early in your pregnancy, I'm going to order a transvaginal ultrasound which will be more accurate at this early stage of pregnancy."
"Thank you," said Sherlock, squeezing Molly's hand.
She nodded and gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Sherlock knew she was feeling the same way as he was. He didn't hold much hope that this was just normal pregnancy symptoms.
In a short period of time, a technician wheeled a portable ultrasound machine into the room and instructed Molly to remove her knickers.
Sherlock continued to hold Mollys hand as the procedure was performed and an image appeared on the screen. He saw a dark, rounded sac but no sign of a growing embryo. Perhaps it was too small to see? He wasn't sure what size an embryo would be at this point.
The technician took some measurements and then said, "It looks like we have a situation here of a blighted ovum."
"Blighted ovum? What does that mean?" asked Sherlock. This was a term he was unfamiliar with.
"Blighted ovums account for approximately fifty percent of miscarriages. It is the term used for a pregnancy in which the embryo never develops or develops and is reabsorbed."
Molly gave a little sob, and Sherlock felt tears come to his eyes again, his worst fears confirmed. He swallowed, then asked, 'How can you tell that is the situation in this case?"
The technician, who Sherlock could see by her name badge, was Helaina, pointed at the dark, circular blob on the screen, then it disappeared as she removed the probe, the examination apparently complete. "In the case of a blighted ovum, the scan will will show a smaller than normal and empty gestational sac, which contains no embryo."
"I see," said Sherlock, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "Is there anything we need to do?"
"When the doctor returns, she can discuss your options," said Helaina. "I'm really sorry for your loss."
"Thank you," said Molly, and the technician wheeled the portable machine in front of her back out of the room.
Molly put her knickers back on, and Sherlock sat on the bed with his arm around her as they waited for the doctor's return.
Dr. Simpson came in a few minutes later and spoke to Molly. "I'm sorry it wasn't better news for you," she said sympathetically. "In the instance of an early miscarriage, usually the body will take care of it by itself. It will probably be like a heavy period, where any pregnancy tissue will be expelled within seven to fourteen days. If the pain and bleeding have stopped in that time period it usually means the miscarriage has finished. We suggest you take a pregnancy test again in three weeks from now. If it is negative, there is no need to do anything. A positive test would indicate there is still pregnancy tissue remaining and further tests would be needed."
She continued. "There are two other options. If you don't want to wait for the miscarriage to take its natural course, we can offer you a medicine which involves taking tablets that cause the cervix to open, allowing the tissue to pass out. We call these tablets pessaries, and they will be inserted directly into your vagina, where they dissolve and bring on what will feel like a heavy period."
Sherlock looked at Molly and she shook her head slightly.
"And finally, the third option is surgery, but I do not think it necessary in your case as it appears the miscarriage is progressing normally."
Sherlock was surprised when Molly ventured a question. "Will we...will we have to wait a long time before trying for another baby?"
Dr. Simpson gave her a sympathetic smile. "Your uterus has not expanded much from the pregnancy as of yet, and the contractions will help it return to normal. It probably will not take long for your body to return to its normal cycle, within a month or two. If your miscarriage progresses normally, there are no restrictions on how long you should wait before trying to conceive again."
This seemed to make Molly feel better, even though Sherlock was still trying to process the fact that there would be no baby arriving in November.
"Would you like to seek the services of a counsellor? I can give you a card, and you can book an appointment before you leave," the doctor continued.
Sherlock gave Molly a questioning look, and she said, "I don't think that's necessary. I think I'd just like to go back home and be with my family. Unless my husband..."
"No, that's fine. I would prefer to just get home as well."
Dr. Simpson nodded and spoke to Molly. "In that case, I'll give you the card in case you need it later and let you get dressed. Then you are free to leave. I'm truly sorry for your loss."
Mollys lips trembled as tears ran down her cheeks. "Thank you, Dr. Simpson."
Sherlock wanted to cry too, but he had to be strong for Molly, so he swallowed back his tears again and helped her get dressed. He supposed as soon as they arrived home, they would have to let Molly's mother know of her miscarriage. He wanted to tell John, to share his grief with him, but they hadn't even shared the news of Molly's pregnancy in the first place. What was he going to say? "Hi John, I wanted to let you know that Molly was pregnant, but now she isn't"? Perhaps they would talk of it later, but not now.
In silence, as Molly's tears continued to run down her cheeks unchecked, they left the hospital and returned to the car park.
As soon as Molly was in the car, and Sherlock had sat in the driver's seat, he reached over to brush at Molly's tears. "I'm so sorry, love," he said softly.
She gave him a wobbly smile. "At least we can try for another baby soon."
"Molly," he said gently, "we have just suffered a loss. There is no need for us to be thinking about conceiving another baby. You even said yourself you didn't want to go through another pregnancy. Perhaps we were only meant to have two children."
Molly shook her head emphatically. "No, Sherlock. I refuse to believe that. Sure, if we had had this baby, I didn't really want to go through another pregnancy, but I still want another baby."
He bent and kissed her softly. "Well, let's not think about that right now. We need time to process this for a little while. I love you, sweetheart."
"I love you too."
Once they were out of the car park, Sherlock took up Molly's hand and held it all the way home. He heard his phone ring but ignored it. He probably should have called his parents before leaving the hospital, but they were on their way home now anyway, so there wasn't really any point.
"Do you want me to get the phone from your pocket?" Molly asked.
"No need. It's probably my parents, and we will be home soon. If it is anyone else, they can wait."
"Alright."
Sherlock was quite surprised that the whole journey to the hospital and return home had only taken a little over two hours. That had to be some kind of record for A&E. They had probably only missed dinner by an hour, not that he felt like eating.
He parked in the same spot he had left earlier, and he and Molly walked to the front door. As soon as he unlocked the door, he opened it to find his mother standing there with Christina. "Oh, thank God you're back. Why didn't you answer your phone? I'm surprised you are back so quickly. How is the baby?"
He shook his head slightly. "The technician did a scan and said it was a blighted ovum, which essentially means that the pregnancy was not viable."
She looked from him to Molly, who was next to him, looking miserable. Handing Christina to Sherlock, she enveloped Molly in a warm hug. "I'm so sorry, my dear."
Then she stepped back and spoke to Sherlock again, as he cuddled Christina close, inhaling her sweet freshly-changed baby smell. "We held dinner for a little while. In fact, we've only just finished eating. Victoria is still at the table, eating some chocolate. Martha took the liberty of putting food on two plates for you to heat up when you got home, but it's probably still warm enough to eat without reheating."
"I'm not really hungry," said Sherlock.
"Me neither," said Molly.
Sherlock's mother folded her arms. "You have both sustained a big shock, and you need to eat to keep your strength up."
Why do people always think food helps you keep your strength up? Sherlock wondered, but he didn't want to fight with his mother. "Very well, we will eat."
"Good." His mother led the way back to the kitchen, where Martha set plates before Sherlock and Molly. Sherlock set Christina down, and she wandered over to Sherlock's father, who picked her up and sat her on his lap. He didn't ask any questions. He'd wait to speak privately with Sherlock's mother. Martha didn't ask any questions either. It was obvious they had no good news, and Sherlock was glad he didn't have to say anything in front of Victoria.
Instead, Martha deliberately said, "Did you have a nice walk?"
"Yes. Thank you for looking after the girls," said Sherlock.
She smiled. "We had a good time. Victoria showed me her latest puzzle. Now, go on and eat."
Sherlock managed a few bites, while Molly merely picked at hers.
Victoria, still in her chair, noticed and said, in a voice that sounded uncannily like Molly's when she would tell Victoria to eat her food, "Mummy, Daddy, eat!"
Sherlock saw Molly make more of an effort, and he did too, although neither of them finished. But it was enough to satisfy his mother that they wouldn't starve, judging by her approving nod.
Martha and Sherlock's mother insisted on doing all the dishes and clearing up of leftover food.
Sherlock could tell Molly just wanted to hold their daughters close, as he did. Unfortunately, victoria didn't understand that, and she bounced from grandparent to grandparent, asking them to do this and that. Christina was a little more accommodating, allowing a couple minutes of cuddles before saying, "Want down".
The rest of the day seemed endless. How could you enjoy an Easter celebration in the midst of sorrow? There was a shadow cast over everything.
Sherlock did take care of two things. He called Molly's mother to let her know the sad news, and he called the hospital to say Molly would not be in for work that week due to her loss.
At around seven o'clock, Sherlock's mother said, "I think we are going to call now to be taken home. You and Molly need some time together." She looked over at Martha. "Martha, we will have the driver take you home as well, so that Sherlock doesn't have to do so."
Sherlock didn't argue, He was only too glad that his mother had taken charge.
"Don't go," pleaded Victoria, as her grandparents and Martha prepared to leave a little while later.
Sherlock's mother hugged her tightly. "I promise we will see you again soon. Now be good for your mummy and daddy."
Victoria sniffled. "Okay Gwamma."
Kisses and hugs were exchanged with promises of plans to visit again for Victoria's birthday. Martha, of course, they would see again soon, and she offered to take charge of the girls any time Sherlock and Molly needed time to themselves.
Despite his earlier pleasure at seeing his parents, Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief when he was alone with Molly and their daughters. He just wanted to appreciate his little family, love them, and spend time with them.
"I'm going to go change my pad," Molly said quietly, and Sherlock nodded. He knew she was trying to hold it together in front of their daughters as he was.
"Come on, Victoria," he said, scooping up Christina as he spoke. "Let's watch a film. Your choice." He added quickly, "Except Moana." He had put that on six times for her in the past week.
Victoria frowned at him but said, "Fwozen, the second one."
"Very well." He turned on the television and found the film on Disney Plus, then pressed play, all the while holding a struggling Christina.
"Want down," she said, and Sherlock sighed. So much for family cuddles. He set her down and said, "Do you want to sit with Daddy, Victoria?"
For once, she was ready to comply. Then Christina, seeing her sister sitting with her daddy decided she wanted to stay with him, after all.
He sent up a silent prayer of thanks to God for his sweet little girls, and when Molly returned, Sherlock said to Victoria, "Why don't you sit on Mummy's lap and we can all cuddle together to watch the film."
A crease formed between her brows, then, as Molly opened her arms, she nodded and allowed Molly to hold her in her lap.
And there they sat together as a family.
Christina was asleep before the film ended, and Victoria was getting sleepy, so it wasn't difficult to put them to bed afterwards. They didn't need baths, having had them the day before in preparation for Easter, which was a good thing. Even if they had been due for baths, Sherlock would have told Molly not to bother with it. One extra day without a bath wouldn't have been a big deal, anyway.
Even though it wasn't yet ten o'clock, Molly said, "I'm going to go to bed."
"I'm coming too, sweetheart."
Knowing Molly would need to keep her knickers on, Sherlock kept his boxers on as well and they got into bed.
He opened his arms for her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. "Not quite the Easter celebration I was expecting," he commented.
She looked into his face then and said in a broken little voice, "We lost our baby, Sherlock."
He stroked her hair. "I know, sweetheart. I've been thinking, if it had to happen, it's good my parents and Martha were here to look after the girls while we went to the hospital."
"I know you're right, and I know our baby is with God, but it hurts, Sherlock." She burrowed her face against his shoulder, and he felt the wetness of her tears.
"I know, darling," he whispered and allowed his own tears at last to flow freely. He realised this was the first time since Mary's death that he had been personally touched by sorrow, well, aside from when he had found out about Victor. It was a surprise how much it hurt, considering he and Molly had only known of her pregnancy for four weeks. Logically, he knew it would have been progressively worse, the further along in pregnancy she had been, but for now, all he could think of was that tiny life he and Molly had created would never have a chance to be born, to experience life on earth, to be cherished as a little sibling for Victoria and Christina. He'd never know if the baby had been a boy or girl. Oh, God, he cried out in his heart. Help us get through this.
And even through his pain and sorrow, he knew God was indeed with them. On this day of all days, when they thought about the resurrection, he knew that Jesus was alive and had redeemed them. Their faith would sustain them and bring them through.
He felt the need to say the words he said so often, to reassure Molly that they would be there for one another. "I love you, Molly."
"I know. I love you too," was her response, and her hand moved to link her fingers with his.
Author's note: I've known this was going to happen for a long time, since I began writing my still unfinished and unpublished Disney story, set in 2027. I just didn't know how it would play out, in fact, I didn't know if I'd still be even writing Sherlolly at this point.
Having suffered my own miscarriage, I included my experience whilst trying to keep it consistent with how things might play out in the UK. I must confess, I am not exactly sure how things are handled there, but I did use the NHS website to research miscarriage and how it is dealt with. Hopefully the story comes across realistically. Sad as it is, real life is not always hearts and flowers, and in writing this continuing story for the characters, I want to show that. What did you think? Did I pull it off?
I also used my own recent experience of new ER procedures due to COVID - with temperature checks and questions about COVID, to describe Sherlock and Molly's experience. I'm not 100% sure how they are doing things in the UK, but I assume it is something similar.
Whatever happens in life, though, if we hold tight to one another and our faith, we can get through anything. I know this was a sad ending, but don't worry, their story will continue. After all, Sherlock's birthday is coming and Victoria's. So I will be checking in on them periodically and sharing their latest stories :)