Flash Fictions by Benjamin D. Togate

It'll be Okay

Triggerwarning: This is a short story about a #miscarriage.

Her Baby was gone. Just like that. The dreams of a family of her own. Gone. No one really understood what she was going through since the doctors had told her there was no heartbeat.

It happens to a lot of women, she would hear. Luckily you weren't far along, others would say. "Yeah, lucky me" she thought in her grief that felt nothing but empty. Like her stomach, that had life in it before and was now hollow. You can try again, some would encourage her. But she didn't know how she'd be able too, feeling nothing but this immense loss.

She was only 11 weeks along when the bleeding started and ended her pregnancy. To her it didn't matter how far along she was or that it happened to lots of people or that she could try again.

That was her baby, her loss, her grief. That it happened often didn't minimize her pain. She wouldn't push it aside. She would feel every inch of that loss. It didn't help bring her baby back, but she wouldn't just forget that life that was now forever gone.
Everyone deals with a miscarriage differently.

Her husband felt the loss too. The day after he had told her that she was pregnant he had gone out and bought two onesies. A pink one and a blue one. She had laughed when she saw it.

"I don't care about the babies gender" she said "he or she is going to wear both of them".
"I know" he said, winking at her "I just thought they were both cute."
"They are" she said, running her fingers across the soft fabric. One day, not too far away, her baby would wear these tiny clothes. She smiled. It was finally happening.

And then it wasn't. When it happened, her husband guided her through an awful night of cramps and bleeding. He was calm, reassuring, he would have been wonderful at the birth. He held her after, when she cried out of pain, both physical and mental.

But then he retreated into his own grief. She tried to give him space and not burden him with hers. Instead she went to friends and family, crying and talking about what she lost and what could have been. Until a few weeks after they acted like it was time to forget. Like enough time had passed and she should let go and go on. But she wasn't ready. And so she stopped talking to them too.

She felt lonely in her grief. Especially today. It would have marked the half-time of her pregnancy. She would have already been able to feel the little thing. She'd probably have the nursery ready.

It was a quiet evening and her husband wasn't available. He was playing computer games, as he did ever so often the last few weeks. So he didn't have to think. She understood that, but she felt so so lonely. She needed to get out of the house. Immediatly. She didn't even grab a jacket. She just shouted she was going on a walk and rushed out of the door. She couldn't bear being inside at this moment.

First she ran, then she slowed down. When she reached the fields, she left the path into the tall grass. The leaves and shrubs tickled her legs. The sun was just leaving the day behind, turning red like blood. She stopped at the top of a small hill, taking in the surrounding wideness.

"I miss you" she whispered touching her belly.

And then she heard it. They weren't words. But she heard it loud and clear. A gush of wind went through the grass, startling beetles and fireflies that swarmed up right around her.

It's going to be okay, they told her. And with these words her heart suddenly felt a little lighter and the cool breeze made her feel alive for the first time in weeks.

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, soaking in the onset of the night around her.

"It's going to be okay" she repeated with a slight smile.