Trigger warning: This chapter describes the aftermath of a missed miscarriage, including the emotional impact and a general description of the lead-up to and recovery from a D&C. There is one brief, indirect mention of bleeding.


"Born, everyone

breathes, pays tax, plants dead

and hurts galore. There's grief enough

for each." — Mary Karr


"It's so, so common." Lorelai turned the car radio on, then turned it off. "I bet you know a lot of people who've had one. It doesn't mean there's anything wrong with your body."

Rory stared out the window. "I know there's nothing wrong with my body," she said woodenly.

"I just don't want you to worry. For the future."

"The future? It's not like there's any chance of this happening again anytime soon. Or maybe ever."

"Don't say that." She glanced at Rory before looking back at the road.

"I just don't get it. I did what I was supposed to do. I limited my caffeine intake, I don't smoke, I'm not overweight, I take my vitamins. I haven't had a drink since the night I was with Logan. We don't have any weird genetic issues in our family. I'm not that old. Why did this happen to me?"

"It's nothing you did or didn't do. You're just one of the unlucky ones. It just wasn't meant to be this time."

"That's easy for you to say. You got pregnant once and it worked out just fine for you," Rory snapped. Before the words came out, she'd wanted to say something hurtful. To take some of the pain she was feeling and redirect it toward someone else. But it only made her feel worse; the pain could only be multiplied, not subtracted.

Lorelai winced. "Look, kid, I'm really sorry. I'm trying to say something that will make you feel better and clearly I'm doing a terrible job."

"Nothing will make me feel better. I'm allowed to feel bad about this."

"Of course you are."

"And I know what you're thinking. You're secretly glad. It just all goes away, like it never even happened." Rory's voice cracked.

"Rory, I'm not — this isn't about me. I just don't want to see you hurting."

"Well, I am. I'm hurting." Her face was wet and her nose was running, and she didn't have any tissues so she wiped her nose carelessly with her scarf. "I just — are things just supposed to go back to the way they were before? How do I do that?"

Lorelai pulled in the driveway and put the car in park. She squeezed Rory's hand. "Why don't you start by putting on your pajamas and picking out a movie? I'll go pick up food."

"I'm not hungry."

"But you might be later. If you were going to be hungry later, what would you want to eat?"

Rory thought about it. "Sushi. And an Italian sub."

"A classic combo."

"Might as well make the most of it," Rory said bitterly. She climbed out of the car and Lorelai watched her trudge to the front door. She froze before going inside. "Mom," she called back. "The books."

"What?"

Rory walked back to the car window, arms crossed, shivering in the cold. "I need you to go inside and get the pregnancy books out of my room." She couldn't see them. She couldn't be in the same room as them. They didn't belong there anymore.

Lorelai unbuckled her seatbelt and sighed. "This sucks."

"It really, really does."


When Lorelai returned with the food she heard the shower running. She considered poking her head in to check on Rory, but she resisted; if she wanted to cry in the shower, she was entitled to cry in the shower. She dropped the bags on the counter and started unloading the sushi and sandwiches.

Her phone rang. "Hello?"

"You were supposed to call me after Rory's doctor's appointment," said an irritated voice.

"Mom," Lorelai breathed. She had totally forgotten. She slipped out the back door onto the porch.

"Did they give her a due date?"

"Mom, something happened."

"That's cryptic."

"They did an ultrasound. They couldn't find — it looks like she miscarried."

"Oh."

Lorelai waited for more. "Just oh?"

"Well, I'm terribly sorry."

"I'll tell her you said that."

Emily was silent again. Lorelai picked at the peeling paint on the railing.

"Are you still there, Mom?" Lorelai asked.

"Yes."

"I tried to say a lot of things to make her feel better but I just kept putting my foot in my mouth."

"There's nothing you can say that will make her feel better right now," Emily said firmly. "She's going to need time."

Lorelai cocked her head. "You sound very sure about that."

"Well, its obvious, isn't it?"

"But you sound like… nevermind."

There was a pause. "It happened to me, if that's what you're getting at. It's more common than you'd think."

"You had a miscarriage?" Lorelai asked incredulously, straining to keep her voice down. "When? Why didn't I know about this?"

"It was about a year before I got pregnant with you."

Lorelai was in awe but tried to hold her tongue. "Wow, Mom, I'm so sorry."

"Oh, it was a lifetime ago. But you never forget."

Back inside, picking at sushi on the couch, Lorelai tried to imagine life with an older brother or sister. Maybe that kid would've been the golden child. Maybe her parents wouldn't have breathed down her neck quite so much. She could've been Prince Harry, naked in a Las Vegas hotel room while Prince William was cutting ribbons and hobnobbing with bishops and charity leaders. Everything could've been different. An extra chromosome, a tiny fluctuation in hormone levels. All the difference in the world.

Rory entered the living room with wet hair, cell phone in hand. "Logan called."

"What did he say?"

"I didn't pick up."

"Did he leave a message?"

"Yeah. Just, 'Call me.'"

"Are you going to?"

"Nope," Rory said tightly. She didn't believe in signs, or fate, or Ouija boards. But she did believe in wake-up calls. It was done, and maybe it was a mundane finish with the paper gown and the fluorescent lights, but not everybody gets an ending like Casablanca. Maybe the end of every love story, or whatever this was, is a little mundane anyway. Even Ilsa Lund probably felt like she got a raw deal with Victor Laszlo hovering and the deafening racket of the airplane propellers in the background.

And of course Rory was sad, and of course her heart was broken, but just because an ending breaks your heart, that doesn't mean it's the wrong ending.

Lorelai patted the couch next to her. "Take a load off. What do you want to watch?"

Rory sat down. "I was thinking we'd start with She's Too Young and then binge that season of The Great British Bake-Off we've been saving for a rainy day."

Lorelai put her arm around her. "Marcia Gay Harden on a crusade against teen syphilis and Mary Berry with her biscuits and sponge? Oh, hold me, it's too good."

Rory leaned her head on Lorelai's shoulder and turned on the TV.


The next few days dragged slowly in the moment, but later they seemed like a blur of time spent sitting at home and in waiting rooms. Lorelai pretended she didn't need to be at work. Emily sent flowers. Lane came by and brought her lunch. Lorelai told Luke she'd been dumped by some made-up boyfriend and he brought her donuts every night.

Every time Rory went to the bathroom, she braced herself before she looked down, but there was nothing.

She had another ultrasound to confirm what they already knew. She didn't cry this time. Her D&C was scheduled for the next day. She sat in the surgical center in a paper gown she'd accidentally put on backwards, IV in her hand, Lorelai next to her. When they led her to the operating room she held the back of the gown together as she shuffled along.

Lorelai smiled, a flat, labored smile, as she walked away.

Rory forced her own smile back. "Let's get this over with."

"See you on the other side."

"Ready?" the nurse asked as she helped her onto the table. The lights were so bright.

"Ready," Rory said, aiming for chipper but failing. Her lip wobbled.

"Oh, honey. Do you have any other children?"

She shook her head, an invisible golf ball in her throat.

"You're so young. You have so much time," the nurse said.

"So young," the anesthesiologist repeated. Rory didn't feel very young. She squinted into the harsh light and thought about how unfair it all was, about Lorelai standing there during the ultrasound waiting to take a picture with her phone, about the meaning of the word curettage, and she realized: Other than losing Grandpa, this entire mess is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. I am currently in the middle of experiencing the worst thing that I have ever experienced in my life.

Then they slipped a mask over her face, and she breathed in, and she woke up in recovery with another nurse asking what flavor slushie she wanted. She chose cherry. She felt placid and sleepy. Lorelai came back to see her. "This slushie is delicious," she commented, her tongue lazy, the straw slipping from her mouth.

Lorelai brought her clothes. "The nurse gave me these mesh granny panties for you to wear. I asked if they were La Perla. She wasn't sure. With what you're paying, they really should be La Perla."

Lorelai helped her stand. Rory realized that there was a pad between her legs that she hadn't noticed when she was lying down. She removed it, grabbing the mesh underwear, and looked down. Finally, there was the proof.


She fell into an easy sleep when they got home. Lorelai used it as an opportunity to check on things at the inn and swing by Luke's.

"How was Rory's wisdom tooth surgery?" Luke asked.

"Oh, fine. She's sleeping off the drugs," Lorelai said, kissing his cheek and grabbing the coffee pot.

"You know," he said, wiping down the counter, "It's funny. I remember the first time she got her wisdom teeth out. When she was eighteen. You made me put a cheeseburger in the blender."

"Oh, yeah," Lorelai chuckled. "Cheeseburger milkshake. That was disgusting."

He dropped his rag on the counter and put his hands on his hips, turning to look her in the eye. "Wisdom teeth don't grow back."

She pulled him into the storeroom. "Look, yes, I made up the wisdom tooth thing. But Rory is fine. I don't want you to worry. She's just going through something private, and I need you not to ask her about it or speculate."

"I just don't like knowing that something is wrong but not knowing what it is."

She squeezed his arm. "I know. And I'm sorry. I don't like keeping things from you. But it's all for Rory."


It was dark when Rory woke. Lorelai was sitting in a chair at the foot of her bed, reading a magazine.

"Hey," Rory said groggily.

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay." Her mouth was dry.

"I have water and food and extra-strength Tylenol. They wouldn't give you the good stuff. I guess they don't want you to Jamie Lee Curtis yourself into a painkiller addiction."

"That would be bad," Rory said.

Lorelai handed Rory her cell phone. "This thing was vibrating off the hook. Logan again."

Rory scrolled through the missed calls and put the phone down.

"Does he know?" Lorelai asked.

"No. I don't know why he's calling." She rubbed her face. "Can I have that water?"

"Florence Nightingale, at your service." Lorelai handed her a cup. Rory took a big sip.

"What now?" she asked.

"Well, for a start, I can read you People's Sexiest Man Alive issue. I'll even show you the pictures if you're lucky."

"Okay," Rory said, settling back onto her pillow. "Go ahead."

She spent the next week in bed or on the couch. She watched TV. She didn't write. She found an online forum about miscarriage. She read other people's posts but didn't add her own. She stood in the shower and closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of the hot water on her back. She read Anna Karenina for the hundredth time. She cried sometimes, and other times she felt relieved. She put everything pregnancy-related — her notes, her bracelet from the surgery, her appointment card from the doctor's office — in a pile in the corner of the room, and one day Lorelai must've found it because it disappeared. Her boobs weren't sore anymore and she was less tired. Logan called. He sent a text that said, "Please call me back." She ignored it all. She wore her pajamas and when she felt the need to change, she put on another pair of pajamas. She gave Paul Anka belly rubs. He was grateful and licked her hand.

Eventually she started to feel herself solidify again, and she was sick of wearing pants covered in cartoon animals, and she wanted to go back into the world and write and move on to whatever was next. She got off the couch. She got dressed and went outside and took a deep breath. It was cold for late November, but it felt good. Lorelai was at the inn. There was a familiar soft silence in the air. She took out her cell phone and dialed.

"Mom?" She tilted her head up toward the sky and breathed. "I smell snow."


Next week: Rory moves forward. Jess visits Stars Hollow.