WARNING: Trigger warning: miscarriage.

Sorrow

"Come on, sweetheart. One step at a time," Trevor said softly as I took the stairs of our home one by one.

I'd been at work, dutifully working my way through a project when I felt the painful cramping. It was nothing like I've ever felt before. Not even when I went in through labor with Theodora or Oliver. My periods had never been bad yet this pain was something intolerable. I gripped my desk, wincing in pain when one of the interns noticed what was wrong. I was rushed to the hospital immediately, but I could feel my world coming apart with every passing moment in the ambulance. With every blare of the siren, I could feel my heart beat in my ears with rapid succession, getting louder and louder until it drowned out every sound possible.

"It was a silent first-trimester miscarriage, Mr. Langan," the doctor said solemnly.

"What does that even mean? She—She was pregnant?"

The doctor smiled bashfully, "It's normal for women not to notice immediately. And, some women continue to menstruate until the beginning of their second trimester, Mr. Langan."

"I knew," I heard myself say through the daze. "I knew."

Trevor approached me, putting his hand on my shoulder, "Baby—"

"¡Cállate!" I bit with a growl. "I—I—I don't—don't want to hear—" a sob broke through me, shutting me up completely.

"Noa," he whispered, driving my body to his chest.

"Take her home, Mr. Langan. Bring her to the ER if any bleeding starts."

Everything hurt. Why did everything hurt? Walking seemed impossible, standing upright was a task, breathing was unbearable, and living… living would prove to be extremely hard after this. I'd heard everything the doctor had said. Every word, every sympathetic look, and every apologetic smile I'd seen. It was as hard for him as it was for me to even speak about it. My body had failed to recognize that the baby it was carrying was no longer living well into the first trimester. It led me to believe that I was still pregnant, but today, a week into my second trimester it had done its job.

I knew I was pregnant. After having been so two times already, by now I knew what my body was doing, but I'd waited to tell Trevor when I was pregnant with Oliver until I knew for sure yet this time around, I'd failed to set an appointment, being too busy with a preschooler and a toddler. No excuses, Noa. You should've known better.

I felt Trevor's hands at my waist, ridding my body from the scrubs the hospital had given me, "I—I can do it."

His hands stopped moving. "Baby—" I looked up at him with a fierce glare, effectively redirecting his speech. "Let me be here for you, Noa."

I know I should've been more sensible to his needs, to the way his voice trembled at the sound of my name, but no. I needed solitude right now. This was my fault. I had… robbed Trevor from the opportunity of being a father again. My body had betrayed me, betrayed us as an institution. I couldn't face Trevor and his bright blue eyes right now. Not now and not within the next few minutes.

"Plea—Please close the door when you leave."

He sighed quietly, pressing his lips to my forehead, and left letting his hands lingers across my stomach as he made way to the door. As soon as I heard the soft click of the door, I rested my hands on the bathroom counter, letting my grief take over. I could feel my shoulders shake without control and I surrendered, letting them take over. The grief, that's all I was allowing myself to feel. I didn't want to feel the love that Trevor had wanted to give me. I sobbed; long and hard, feeling my knees give out below me.

Why? Why had this happened? I knew anything could happen when in the first trimester. It was the most critical one and the one that mothers feared the most yet I walked around as if I was untouchable, above everybody else. How cruel and real had that slap been to my face and how deep the dagger had been struck into my heart. How unfair and unmerited this entire experience had been.

I sniffled, running the back of my hand through my nose. I needed to gain composure; I needed to pick up the kids from preschool and daycare any minute now.

Trevor's POV

It pained me deeply to hear her sob like that, to hear her suffering like that, to know that she wanted nothing to do with me, and that we were separated by this mere door. I finally heard the water running in our tub and I stood, wiping my eyes from any remaining tears. Noa needed help, and if she didn't want my help, I would get her some help. She needed another woman, someone that could sympathize with her situation, someone she could trust and lean on. I know she didn't want to speak to her mother, and though her relationship with her sister had improved, I knew she was the last person she wanted to see at the moment.

I paced our room, listening to her soft whimpers, and sniffles through the door. I had been there with Casey when she had had hers. Emily had been two or three when they had tried to become parents again, but that unjust moment had happened right in the middle of their kitchen. I would never forget the look of terror in her face, how pale her skin had turned, and the tears both she and Alex had shed afterwards.

I dug my phone out of my pocket, quickly searching for the familiar contact number. It rung several times before the cheerful voice answered, "Case, I need a favor."

"Mami," I heard my daughter's voice down the hall, filled with joy and excitement.

I sniffled awaiting her impeding arrival in my room. I felt the bed dip behind me and I turned slightly to watch her carefully climb over me, "Ma—you're crying. Mami, why you crying?"

I smiled sadly, wiping at my cheeks, "Oh sweet pea, Mami isn't feeling all too well."

I saw Theo's eyes dance over my face, studying every expression possible, "Tummy hurts?"

All the love I saw in my daughter's eyes, the way her hand provided weight on sternum, and her pulled in brow were too much for me to bear. What if they looked like Theo in a future? Browning sandy hair, big expressive eyes, cute dimples, curiosity beyond repair… I sobbed, holding on to my daughter's little hand. I knew I was scaring her, I could feel her tensing hand in mine.

"It's ok, Theo. Mommy is just in a lot of pain," Casey soothed. "Come on, go downstairs with Daddy so that he can give you a snack."

When had Casey gotten here? Had she been the one to pick up the kids? Why had Trevor brought her here? "I—I want to be alone, Case," I sniffled, hearing the tremble in my voice.

Again, I felt the bed dip behind me when her arms looped around my front. She had lain behind me, flushing her body with mine. I knew it was she. Her body shape had no comparison with Trevor's sturdiness. She was soft and warm, and smelled of strawberries and wildflowers. Her arm around my waist was gentle yet firm, like a comforting blanket around my torso. She had come straight from work, I could feel her nylons against my calves and her breath had the faint smell of coffee.

"Casey," I whispered.

"I don't want to hear it, Noa. If you won't allow for Trevor to be here, then, allow me. I know exactly what you're feeling and no matter what you say, I know you don't want to be alone right this minute."

I opened my eyes, turning in her embrace, "You—You had one?"

I could feel my eyes jumping between deep pools of emerald splashed with blue, and golden specks of brown. Her eyes shone with the threat of impending tears and she smiled apologetically, nodding as she did so. I knew she could see the shock in my face and I buried myself in the comfort of the woman next to me. I let myself be engulfed in her strawberry scent laced faintly with the wear and tear of the day. I could feel her breath on my ear, calmly shushing me and bringing me comfort, and her hands down my back as she tried to ease the ache I was feeling at this moment.

I didn't know how long it had been. I didn't know if I'd fallen asleep or not. I didn't know if I'd gone catatonic or not, but what I did know was that I was feeling warm. I felt loved. Cared for. Not judged. The comforting scent of strawberries and wildflowers was still very much present, and very much strong, and the beating heart underneath the chest I was lain on, let me know that I was here, and I was awake. If I'd been asleep, I'd been woken to relive the grief I was feeling. If I'd been catatonic, I'd been brought back to suffer through torment. I wanted to be numb; be covered in temporary slumber until all the heartache, soreness, hurt, and discomfort had… evanesced.

I took a shuddering breath and heard myself whimper. "I'm sorry," Casey said, attempting to mask the pain in her voice. "I'm sorry you loss the life you were harboring in your body. I'm sorry you feel like you've failed… as a mother, as a wife… as a woman. I'm sorry, Noa."

I tightened my arms around her, swallowing a growing snivel. I wanted to tell her to keep her apology. I wanted to tell her that this wasn't fair. I wanted to tell her so many things, but my body failed met yet again and all I could do was remind myself to breathe, to inhale and exhale before I made myself really ill and further scare my children.

"It happened almost three years after having Emily," Casey begun quietly. "Alex and I were… in a rough spot and Emily was being a handful. We were constantly fighting, bickering with each other over stupid things; work being the main thing. One day, I came home from work and I found Alex and Em bundled up by the fireplace asleep, and they looked so beautiful together, Noa," she said wistfully. She made a sound, as if she were swallowing her laugh before she continued, "I made the decision then to carry another child. We could give Emily a sibling and maybe our marriage could be… saved.

"Alex was so on board. She wanted more children, but she didn't want to carry them, she could never slow down enough, and could you imagine a pregnant Alexandra Cabot?" she tittered ruefully. "I got inseminated and it took, just like that. We were so happy! The fighting had stopped. The bickering was a thing of the past, and our home felt like a home," she ran her fingers through my hair, pushing the strands away from my face. "We were hosting a brunch to announce our pregnancy. I was roughly twelve weeks along and Alex had gone to pick up some last minute things at the grocery store when Trevor got there. He said that he wasn't staying long, that he had other plans, but he would never miss our brunches. I was laughing. I was laughing, Noa, can you believe that?" she waited for me to answer, never stopping her movements against my scalp.

"And then, it was like I was having an out of body experience. It hurt so much. Giving birth had not felt like that. Trevor thought I was dying, but all I kept saying was, 'baby'," I winced at the word, puling softly, and shutting my eyes, "I was rushed to the hospital and all I felt was numbness. I could feel the weight of Alex's hand on my shoulder. I could hear the doctor talking to her. I could see the affliction in everyone's eyes. I hated it.

"All of a sudden, I was mad. Fueled with this bitter feeling that took me by surprise. I lashed out at Emily for carrying her baby doll around the house that afternoon, why?" she mused. "I yelled and got red in the face with Alex because I was being babied too much, telling her that millions of women went through this and they all had survived. Then came the guilt and the sadness, together. It was a… torrent of emotions and I was beside myself. I didn't know what to do, so I shut down.

"Alex gave me space, but that night when she didn't find me in bed and instead found me curled up in a corner of the shower, I realized that I didn't want to be alone. I realized that when something goes wrong, we search and search to find something—someone to blame. With a miscarriage, there's not really anyone or thing to blame—"

"This is my fault."

"—and it leaves us grasping for some way to make sense of what happened, leaving misplaced guilt and anger. These are all confusing emotions that lead to more anger and guilt, and in the end, you're not only hurting yourself, you're hurting those around you that only want to be here with you."

"I a—am guilty, Casey. My body is guilty," I growled.

"What are you feeling?"

"Emptiness. Betrayal. Shame."

"Shame? Betrayal? Noa—"

I looked up at Casey, feeling my lash line heavy with tears. "Shame, Casey, yes! All Trevor wants from me is my unconditional love. The only way I can give him that is by giving him children! You see how he is with Theo and Ollie. He doesn't look at me the same way he looks at them, with—with such love and, and, devotion," I could feel my lip trembling, and the first heavy tear cruising down my cheek. "It died inside of me, and my body… lied to me for three more weeks before it fucking told me I was unfit to be a mother."

Casey's nose had gained a beautiful rosy tint, matching her cheeks, and the creeping floridness from her neckline, "You are an amazing mother, Noa. You have two little beings downstairs that are happy to argue with you otherwise."

"Casey—"

"I've put women in jail who are unfit, Noa Langan, and you are not unfit."

I sighed. I was tired, beyond exhausted, "This happened, Casey. I… robbed Trevor and my kids of someone else. I did this."

"So, I caused my miscarriage?"

I sat up, watching Casey's satisfactory twitch of the lips, "No, Case—"

"You accepting that this happened, that this is real doesn't mean that you're okay with what happened. It just means that you know is real, you know and understand what you're dealing with."

Even though I wanted nothing to do with people at the moment or stand the look of either my husband or my children, Casey had been exactly what I had needed. She was right, many a woman had gone through this, were going through this, and even though I didn't want this sorrow and ache for anyone, I knew this would continue to happen. Because, sometimes it is not the right moment and we're just but a mere atom in the great scheme of things. No matter how much you'd yearn for it, how much you could prepare for it, if it wasn't written for you, it was not for you.

Who knew Casey and Alex had gone through this experience a couple of years back? Who knew Casey had shut down Alex and pushed her away when they seem to seek each other at every turn. It was beautiful to watch them, beautiful to watch their love from the outside. It was like a dance. They moved separately, but in unison. They each knew their role and if interference was needed or the other needed to be guided back, it was done gracefully. Their eyes would find each other, no matter where they were, and their bodies would gravitate towards the other without the need to voice their want. Trevor's and I relationship felt like that.

I would notice it all the time: the way my hand would find his when his patience was running thin, the way he would press against me when he knew I was uncomfortable, and now, the way we would be there for each other when it came to our children. I wondered if others could see that. That maybe the way Trevor looked at his kids was not the way he was looking at me because he had reserved his own special kind of way of looking at me.

This process was bound to be a difficult one. We weren't exactly planning for another child at this moment, but neither had we the first or second time it had happened. Both times had been a surprise and even though doctors had asked to put in place a contraception plan for me, I had dutifully declined. It was seldom the time Trevor did came inside of me, it was always on me or… it was swallowed. And, again, it's not like we ran the chance of an unwanted pregnancy. We were financially stable and were happy in our marriage. A child had been a blessing both times it had happened and a third one would've been no exception to the rule.

Casey shifted, tipping my chin to meet her face, "Are you listening?" I furrowed my brow and shook my head. She nodded and smiled, "I said, I'll take Ollie and Theo home with me for the rest of the week—"

"It's Tuesday."

"—and I'll bring them back on the weekend depending on how you're feeling."

"But, it's Tuesday. I—I—my kids…"

"Will be very well cared for—"

"I don't doubt that, Case."

"—and you are always welcomed to drop by unannounced if you want to see them before then, but spending time with Trevor will help you both in the end. I know all I wanted to do during that first week and a half was be in Alex's arms without having to put on a façade for Emily's sake."

I nodded, biting my lip, "Thank you."

"Any time," she smiled, kissing my forehead.

I don't know exactly what had happened, how much time had gone by, but I woke up with tight leg muscles and the soothing sound of the waterfall showerhead of my en suite bathroom. Everything was silent. The loud squeals and roaring laughter of my children were nowhere to be found and for a second I panicked. What time is it? I remembered the scent of strawberries, Casey's soothing voice, and how warm her touch had felt. I had stopped Trevor from providing the same kind of touch I'd welcomed from Casey, but it was something I couldn't explain. I couldn't bear to look into my husband's eyes and see my grief mirrored. To know that this situation—that I had caused this pain in him would be mind-boggling and bone breaking.

I was a coward. When Trevor needed me to be strong for him, I'd pushed him away, sent him to be on his own with his own pain. What kind of wife was I? I had promised him to be there for him whenever he would need me, no matter the tears, no matter the laughs, his pain was to be mine, and my joy was to be his too. Yet, I'd taken my pain and threw it at him, leaving him with the burden of both of our discomfort and the added task of the front of trying to be happy for our children.

I swung my legs from the bed and stood, steadying my swaying body before I made a start towards the bathroom. I pushed the door open, hearing as the water hit the tile, and the muffled crying that came from Trevor. I took a shuddering breath and felt my stomach clench within me. I'd done that. I'd done that with my selfishness. I'd made Trevor sob and plea to the Heavens to take away my pain so that his could tolerable. What did you do, Noa?

His back was towards me, his head hanging low between his sagged shoulders, and his extended arm was the only thing that kept him upright. I managed to sneak in the shower, clothed and all to tangle myself around his naked form. "I'm sorry," I breathed against his back. "I'm sorry, Trev. I'm sorry," I closed my eyes, pressing my cheek against his back.

He'd tensed upon initial contact and had sniffled and stand upright, bringing his free hand to mines around his stomach, "Baby—Baby, go back to bed. You should be resting."

I tightened my hold around, "I'm sorry."

"Noa, you don't—"

"I pushed you out. I isolated and alienated you. I did this to you. My pain, Trevor, my pain does not surpass yours. They were yours as much as they were mine, and I've made it seem as if you're not hurting, as if you're feelings do not matter in this. Why? Because—"

"You were carrying our child, Noa. You knew they existed before I did. That bond a mother has with their child will always be superior to that of a father's," he said with a tremble.

"But it doesn't make it right for me to… preclude your feelings," I sighed, flattening my hands against his chest. "That's unfair."

He grabbed at my hands, bringing them down with his, and turning to face me. His eyes were bloodshot, glossy from no doubt all the crying, and I realized, this had been the first time throughout the entire day I'd been able to look at him, really look at him. He was hurting, he was hurting and in my own pain I'd been blinded to his emotions.

"Seeing you hurting, knowing you're hurting hurts me a greater deal than anything else in this world, Noa," he fought with his emotions, set on not letting them show. "I just want to be here for you."

"You can't be here for me if you yourself are numb to your emotions, Langan," I said, bringing my hand up to cup his cheek. "You're not any less of a man or any less of an amazing husband if you show me how you're truly feeling."

He closed his eyes, letting his tears drop, "You're the one that needs me."

I stood on my toes, speaking softly against his lips, "I think we both need each other in more ways than we give credit for."

He sighed, his lips giving a slight tremble when he pushed forward against my lips. It was a slow and delicate fall. A reassurance, a promise that if we were both hurting we would find the necessary comfort in each other, that we wouldn't run from our emotions, and that we were allowing the other to feel and express whatever they needed to without the fear of either of us shutting down or claiming this was too much. Because, in the end, it would forever be too much. It would be too much to think about, too much to put in words, too much to remember, too much to tiptoe around… no matter what; it would always remain being too much. And, what kind of marriage would it be if we weren't able to voice and express something so… burdensome as a miscarriage?

"I love you," he sighed against my lips.

"I love you, too," I responded with a smile.

"We'll get through this, baby. I'll always be here for you and I know you're there for me, too. We'll see better days, Noa. I promise," he said with conviction, resting his forehead against mines.