Sage

27

Why am I not sad enough?

Bean will always be my first. They were who I hummed to on nights that I found myself up alone, wondering how I could water this seed in a way that would leave us both flourishing. When I placed my hand over my hardened uterus and thought of the gift inside, I thought of Bean.

So how come I didn't grieve them the way I should have? How come I didn't spend nights crying and begging whatever God listened to give me my baby back? Why did I, instead, curl up on my couch with my phone ignored as I watched Tv and forced my brain to think elsewhere?

I loved Bean and I always will, but baby two was here. They were still growing happily and healthily in my belly and it was hard to feel anything short of relief. Dr. Nana was right. My extensive google searches told me that one fetus absorbing the twin during the first trimester was normal, and it didn't necessarily mean Bean died. It just meant that her sibling got a little greedy with the resources and decided to opt for cannibalism.

That was what I convinced myself. Part of me knew something was wrong and I expected it to be significantly worse, so deep down I was grateful. Grateful that I had a second chance and grateful that I didn't lose both of my babies. The notion made me sick but it was the truth.

It was just Baby two and I.

As well as Rick and Morty, which play on the TV as I lay on my side with my hand pressed to my belly, using the other to stab a spoon into a jar of mayo.

My phone buzzed from the floor next to me for the millionth time in the last two days but I ignore it. I had it in me to power it down but I didn't feel like getting up. The spot I was in felt too good.

I place the mayo jar back on the coffee table where it joins the clutter of the millions of other snacks I shouldn't be binging on. Chips, pop tarts, cranberry juices, jalapenos, and uncrustables that I'm pretty sure were collecting mold.

The thought of that makes me grateful that I can't see in the dark apartment and I lean back, getting comfortable once more and yawning. I don't know what time it is and I don't care, my body seems to be getting exhausted despite sitting in this position for a day and a half so I adjust myself and lie my head on the bundle of blankets. When was the last time I washed these? I don't know.

The entire place was humid and stuffy since I hadn't had the AC on and it was early-June. I have no clue how I slept under this heavy comforter for so long, ignoring the sweat collecting on my body.

As I'm dozing off, I considered giving Niall and Jenny a phone call when I woke up. I'm sure they're wondering how the ultrasound went.

I'll do it later.

My front door suddenly encounters a knock so loud that I'm immediately jolting up. My bones crack at the sudden movement after lying still for so long and I wince, pressing a hand to my shoulder whilst rolling it. Who the fuck is at my door at...shit, what time is it?

"Hello?" I call out, my voice is nearly gone and it aches my throat to speak. I clear it with furrowed brows, letting out a small yawn afterward.

"Ellie, oh my god! Open the door!" Jenny yells, panic all in her voice. I'm quick to sit up, adjusting my wobbling legs as I basically limp to the front door. My body is acting like it hadn't been used in ages when it's only been a day or two.

I wipe a hand over my face and yawn again as I open the front door. The brightness from the windows in the hall has me hissing and squinting, "What the hell, Jenny?" I rasp. "What- why are you looking at me like that?"

"You can't answer your phone? I've been calling you for days! Niall's been calling you! We were worried sick! We thought you were with Harry!" She pushes past me and immediately brings her inner elbow over her face, her eyes widening at the pigsty I'd been living in. I don't give her time to comment on it.