One day, without knowing why, everything stops before it even begins. One day, what you were hoping for so deeply is no longer. You no longer control your body, you try to understand, sometimes hope is there, and sometimes you give up, because deep down, deep down you know it's over. But all around you, people keep trying to reassure you, to believe in it when you no longer really do.
As incredible as it may seem, Lucy had noticed that her body had changed: severe nausea, sore breasts, aversion to most foods, extreme fatigue, and a few days late. She could have done like everyone else : gone to the pharmacy, bought a pregnancy test, peed on it and waited for an answer. But she preferred a blood test, something concrete, not open to interpretation. Late in the afternoon, the results landed in her inbox. And like a well-kept secret, hidden from prying eyes, she opened the file attached to the email. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, took a deep breath, and read the results.
Positive.
Her hCG level was low, but the test was positive. An involuntary smile appeared on her face. Somewhere deep inside her, life was growing. Of course, she knew that at this stage, the heart wasn't beating yet. But it was the first time in months that the test came back positive. It was the first time she allowed herself to dream, to imagine a life for three. Months of waiting, months of a consuming desire to start a family together, hopeful words, disillusionment, months of love. And today, she had confirmation that something was growing, coming to life—a mix of her and Tim.
Tim.
She was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to call him, to tell him over the phone. To tell him he was finally going to be a father. But then she changed her mind. She wanted to see his face, his reaction, the emotion in his eyes and in his voice, maybe even his tears. She wanted to witness the impact of her words, the realization that they had made it. She didn't want anything flashy like you see on social media, she just wanted something that looked like them. Just them. No fuss. Just love.
When Tim got home that night, he found Lucy in the kitchen. And she heard him coming. She quickly wiped her hands on her pants before turning around to face him and look at him. Deeply. Intensely. Tim stopped dead in his tracks.
"Lucy?"
She didn't answer right away. She held his gaze, a small smile appearing at the corner of her lips.
"Positive."
She let that word out with all the love in the world, tears welling in her eyes. And Tim? He understood immediately. He barely opened his mouth to repeat, like a whisper, the word she had just said. Lucy nodded to confirm, the emotion rising.
Tim placed his phone on the counter and stepped closer to her. He cupped her face with trembling hands, overwhelmed by emotion, by the news. And after looking at her like she was the eighth wonder of the world, he kissed her, tenderly. They stayed in each other's arms for a long time, not really speaking, just caresses, glances. They fell asleep, entangled, inseparable.
It was 9 a.m. when a wave of nausea woke Lucy. She got up and poured herself a glass of water, hoping it would help. She headed to the bathroom, but when she was done, her breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in a dreadful rhythm: blood. Blood on the toilet paper. She took a breath, wiped again, same thing.
"Tim... Babe?"
The worry in her voice woke him instantly, and he came to the bathroom. He opened the door and found himself face to face with her.
"I..."
She stood there, blood-stained paper in hand, emotionally lost. He walked up to her, took the paper from her hands, and flushed it. He held her tightly, giving her the protection she needed in that moment.
