Sorry in advance for this chapter… I've had this planned for a long time.
There are some trigger warnings for the chapter, but the nature of the triggers are at the bottom of the chapter to prevent spoilers.
Chapter 30
Santana's POV
After Brittany's birthday, I started to get some morning sickness, but thankfully I could still go to work and function mostly normal.
The next week, Brittany and I got a call from her sister.
"I'm moving to Columbus!" was her exciting news.
She'd decided to attend college in Columbus, one of the schools she was accepted to, and she'd be living in dorm within walking distance of our house.
"That's great! Now we'll get to see you so much more!" Brittany was ecstatic. I knew she enjoyed living in Columbus, but I also knew she missed seeing her family often.
One day in early August at work, I was giving a woman an ultrasound, when an intense pain started in my lower abdomen. I gasped before quickly hiding it and finishing up the appointment before calling Brittany.
"B," I said as soon as she picked up, "I think something is wrong. It really hurts." My surroundings became blurry as tears began filling my eyes.
"Do you need me to come get you?"
"Please come," I replied. "I'm going to go talk to my boss."
"Okay. I love you."
"I love you, too."
After hanging up the phone, I made my way to my boss's office, knocking on the door with more urgency than I would have liked.
"Hello, Santana," my boss said after opening the door. "Is something wrong?"
"You know how I've been trying to get pregnant?" Working as a midwife made it almost impossible to hide these types of things from the people I worked with, so my boss had known we were trying. "I am, but now I think something's wrong."
"Okay, come with me. I'll check you over."
I followed my boss into an exam room and lay down.
A few moments later, she said, "It looks like you've miscarried. I'm sorry, Santana. Would you like me to call your wife?"
"I already did. Could you go see if she's here, though?"
She nodded and exited the room, leaving me crying alone on the exam table.
"Santana! Are you okay?" Brittany rushed into the room a few moments later, Everly in her arms.
I shrugged.
"I rushed over as quickly as I could," she said, looking at Everly knowing I didn't know what to say with her in the room.
"It's alright. Can you just take me home?"
"Of course."
I tried my best to act normal for Everly but winced in pain as we made our way to the car. After our daughter was buckled into the back seat, Brittany helped me into the passenger side, kissing my cheek before going around the car. When we got home, she brought Everly into her bedroom to play with her dolls before coming to talk to me in our bedroom. (Our daughter knew not to barge in if our door was closed but to knock if she needed anything from us.)
"We lost the baby," I whispered once we were alone.
"How are you?" she asked me.
"Everything hurts," I replied, "but mostly I'm just sad. Can we cuddle?"
"Of course."
Brittany pulled me close as we lay down on the bed, running her fingers through my hair to try to soothe me.
I hadn't felt so miserable in all my life. Brittany was crying with me as we lay down. I didn't want to get out of bed for the rest of the day, so Brittany made dinner for Everly and brought her to me to say goodnight before putting her to bed. I stared off into the distance, trying to slow my tears and think about anything else, but I couldn't.
The next day, I woke up with an awful headache, immediately reminded of the baby we lost, the baby I lost, and that I didn't want to ever get out of bed again.
Brittany wasn't in bed anymore, and when I looked at my alarm clock, I saw that it was after 10 o'clock. I vaguely remembered telling my boss that I'd be taking some time of work before leaving the hospital with Brittany, so there really wasn't much reason for me to get out of bed. I turned over onto my other side and fell back asleep.
When Brittany brought me some food, I couldn't even bring myself to turn back and look at her.
"I love you, Santana," she said, her voice breaking, before leaving the room again.
Talking felt impossible, and the pain was still affecting my body to the point where I didn't want to move it to acknowledge that Brittany had said anything. I didn't leave the bed except to use the bathroom, nor did I eat any food. By the time Brittany came to bed, I felt both surprised that the day was over and wondering how it hadn't already been an entire week since morning.
Brittany's POV
Santana's miscarriage was hard, really hard, but it wasn't me who was physically struggling, so I had to put on a brave face for Everly and try my best to be there for Santana. After crying with Santana the first evening after it happened, I tried not to think to much about it.
I knew Santana wouldn't want to do much the next day, so I got up when Santana was still in a deep sleep and left the bedroom so she wouldn't wake up.
"Mama, where's Mami?" Everly asked when I woke her up for breakfast. Unless Santana had to work, she was the one who usually woke Everly.
"Mami's not feeling well today," I replied, helping her get dressed before going to the kitchen to eat.
"Oh, okay. Would she… would she like a hug?"
I blinked tears away from my vision before saying, "I don't think she's awake right now, Sweetie."
Everly didn't act the same at breakfast. She was a very sensitive girl, and I knew she just wanted her Mami to be alright, but I didn't want to force Santana into acting for our daughter, and I knew she didn't want to try explaining to her what had happened either.
"How about you play with Max for a while," I said once we were done eating and Max was making his way into the kitchen after his morning snack. "I'll be right back."
When I brought some food to Santana, she had turned over onto her other side but didn't respond when I talked to her. I wasn't surprised that when I returned, the food hadn't been eaten.
After putting Everly to bed in the evening, I got myself ready for bed, noticing that Santana had hardly moved the entire day. We fell asleep not touching each other, and, after a while of lying there struggling to fall asleep, I heard Santana crying.
The next morning, I woke up to knocking on the bedroom door much later than I usually woke up. I got out of bed and opened the door for Everly who looked concerned.
"It's morning, Mama," she said quietly.
"It is, Evie. I guess my alarm didn't work this morning," I replied. "Should we go eat breakfast?"
"Is Mami coming?"
"I don't think so, Sweetie. She's still not feeling good."
Her face fell. "Okay."
Even as I spent time with Everly, I could only think about Santana. Being torn between my daughter and my wife was awful, but Everly was incredibly intuitive, and I didn't want to overstep with Santana either.
While Everly and I played in the living room, I looked up at the picture of Santana, Everly, and I from our wedding. We were so happy then, and now, I don't think I'd ever felt so sad.
When Santana had still hardly moved and didn't eat the next morning, I knew something had to be done. It had been three days, and while I didn't expect Santana to magically feel okay, she couldn't stay in bed forever.
It was a Sunday, and Jessie wasn't working, so I called them and asked if they'd like to have Everly over for the afternoon.
"I'd love to have her over," was their response. "Would you like to come over for dinner when you pick her up?"
"I'll have to talk to Santana, but I think that would be good. We haven't done that in a while," I replied.
Once I'd hung up the phone, I helped Everly get ready for her afternoon with Jessie.
After dropping Everly off, I picked up some breadsticks from one of Santana's favorite restaurants before driving back home.
I slowly walked to our bedroom with the food, anxious for Santana's reaction.
"Hey," I said as I opened the door.
Santana didn't move in bed, but she was breathing too shallow to be sleeping, so I walked closer to her.
"I know you're awake, Santana." I sat on the bed beside her. "I brought you some food."
She turned over and looked at me, her eyes dark and puffy and hair tangled. "I don't want any." Her voice was hoarse.
"You have to eat," I said, but I knew she knew that.
She shrugged.
"Come on. I got you breadsticks." I looked into her eyes to try to read what she was thinking.
She turned her head away from me and pulled the blanket higher up on her body.
"I'm really worried about you, Santana. You need to eat."
"Why?" Santana's question hurt my heart.
"You need to take care of yourself," I begged.
"Why? Why should I take care of my body if it can't take care of a baby?"
I shook my head as warm tears started trailing down my cheeks. Unable to stop myself, I hugged Santana's body into mine. She still faced away from me, but she didn't pull out of my arms, so I took it as progress.
"You need to take care of yourself. It isn't your fault or your body's fault that everything happened. But, you have a family who loves you and is worried about you. You can't keep doing this to yourself forever."
Santana sniffled. I felt a tear fall off her cheek onto my arm.
"It just hurts," she whispered.
"I know," I replied, "and it hurts me too."
"Why did this have to happen?" Santana cried, turning to face me.
"I don't know."
Burying her head in my shoulder, Santana hugged me closer. We let each other cry, something we hadn't done together since the night everything happened, and slowly, despite how much my body was shaking, my chest started feeling lighter.
"Do you think it'll ever feel better?" Santana choked out, struggling to catch a breath.
"I know it will," I replied, whispering. I cleared my throat. "I'm sure we won't ever forget this, but I'm sure we'll have a lot of good days where it doesn't hurt."
"I didn't think it could hurt this much. Even once my body stopped hurting, it's like there's a hole in my heart."
I squeezed Santana tightly before letting her go and sitting up against my pillow, glad that she was finally opening up to me.
"You know how often I have to tell women that they're miscarrying at work?" she asked. "So often, and I often just thought, well at least their pregnancy didn't get any further before it happened; I was sure that would be much worse. And maybe it is, but feeling how painful this is, I just wish I'd been more sympathetic towards all those women."
"Well, maybe you weren't always sympathetic, but I know for a fact that you're great at your job," I said. "Do you think you could eat some breadsticks now? They're probably cold."
"That's okay," she replied. "I'd eat anything right now." She cracked a small smile as she took a breadstick from the bag. "You know, the whole time I was lying here, I was thinking about how much I was hurting and how much my body failed me. I'm sorry I wasn't really thinking about you."
"That's alright." I took a bite from my own breadstick. "but, from now on, we handle the difficult things together, okay?"
"Yeah." She paused. "I also thought about how much I missed feeling hungry. I don't want to starve myself anymore, but I think when I'm sad, it's harder for me."
"Thanks for telling me. Are you feeling a bit better?"
"I am," she replied. "Thank you."
"No problem. Now, would you like to take a bath? No offense, but I think you need it."
"That actually sounds really nice. Would you like to join me?"
"Sure."
Santana and I spent a half hour just relaxing in the bath. I ran a comb through her tangled hair and washed it for her, happy that she wasn't shutting me out as much anymore.
"Where's Everly?" Santana suddenly asked, realizing it had been a long time without any interruptions from our daughter.
I smiled. "She's with Jessie. And, if you're feeling up to it, we're invited there for dinner."
"Well, I don't really want to go anywhere," Santana said honestly. "But, I'm sure it would be good for me to leave the house."
"Good. I'm glad you're feeling a little better. I love you."
"I love you, too."
TW: miscarriage, disordered eating
A/N:
Once again, I'm sorry for this chapter. I've had it planned for a while, but I was stuck on it for quite some time. I've never experienced anything like this, so I wanted to write it well. Please let me know your thoughts and thank you for reading!
