wintumn - their love.

41.

tw - trauma mentions, anxiety, miscarrige and panic. 

an - might need tissues. JOEY THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR MAKING ROSE SICK IN YOUR BOOK YOU BITCH. GET CALLED OUT AGAIN. 

Autumn lay in the hospital bed, her body feeling hollow, her soul shattered. The sterile smell of the hospital clung to her, reminding her of every painful moment since the doctors had confirmed the loss. Her baby was gone, just like that, and it felt like the universe had torn another piece of her heart away.

Her mind swirled with the endless, cruel thought:

 It's my fault.

Autumn's pregnancy had begun with a flood of emotions—relief, anxiety, and hope intertwined. But as the first few weeks passed, the joy she had dared to feel quickly turned into a nightmare. From the start, her body rejected the peace that a growing life inside her should have brought. The nausea wasn't just morning sickness; it consumed her entire day.

By the third week, she couldn't keep anything down, not even water. She was constantly exhausted, unable to muster the energy to work or take care of Harlow. Winter grew increasingly worried, doing everything he could to support her. He brought her ginger tea, rubbed her back when the waves of nausea came crashing, and tried to encourage her to eat—but nothing helped.

Autumn spent her days in bed, violently ill, clutching her stomach as it churned and twisted. She felt the weight of her stress, the trauma of Mayella's loss, still deeply etched into her soul, and her body seemed to be collapsing under it all. Every time she stood up, the room spun, and she would rush to the bathroom, retching over and over until her throat burned.

Winter watched helplessly as his wife withered away, the brightness of their brief joy now clouded by the constant sickness. Every day, he would sit beside her, holding her hair back as she vomited, gently whispering reassurances that they'd get through this, but even his voice couldn't silence the gnawing fear growing inside him.

By the eighth week, Autumn had lost a significant amount of weight, her body weak and fragile. She could feel herself unraveling, her mind clouded with exhaustion, grief, and the overwhelming physical toll this pregnancy had taken on her. Still, she tried to hold on to hope. She desperately wanted to believe that this baby could somehow survive, that after everything, they'd be given another chance.

But her body wouldn't cooperate.

ever. 

The strain was too much. One morning, just before hitting the 12-week mark, Autumn woke up with a stabbing pain in her abdomen. The intensity of it made her gasp, clutching at her stomach. Winter rushed to her side, but he could see the fear in her eyes, the paleness of her skin.

"Something's wrong," she whimpered, her voice cracking as the pain became unbearable.

Winter called for help, his hands shaking as he stayed beside her, trying to stay calm for her sake. But Autumn was fading fast, her body trembling from the trauma it had endured. They arrived at the hospital, but the doctors confirmed their worst fear: Autumn had lost the baby.

again. 

The news hit her like a tidal wave. All the hope she had tried to hold onto crumbled. She lay in the hospital bed, numb, staring at the ceiling, feeling utterly defeated. The doctors explained that the combination of her trauma, the physical stress her body had been under, and the relentless sickness had been too much for the pregnancy to continue.