Shawn Mendes Imagines

Disappointments

"This is the best day of my life," you admit to your husband, Shawn, as you lay flat on your back in the hospital bed.

You could hardly contain your excitement, and you could tell Shawn felt the same way by the way he squeezed your hand from the chair he pulled up beside the bed.

You were now twelve weeks pregnant, and today was the day that you found out the sex of the baby. It was so nerve wracking-- you couldn't believe you were actually having a kid. Your own little baby girl or baby boy to raise. Even thinking about it made you smile.

"Do you think it's going to be a girl?" Shawn asks, biting his lip as he plays gently with your fingers.

"I don't know, but I kind of want a boy," you admit. "Baby boys are so cute. Have you seen newborn boys with their itty bitty things?"

Shawn giggles. "We couldn't name him after me, then, because we both know I don't have one of those."

"I would name him Nathan," you smile, ignoring his gloating. "I love that name."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you nod.

"And what if it's a girl?" he asks curiously.

You shrug. "I don't really know. I mean, I have so much free time to think about it, but it's so hard to choose."

Shawn thinks for a minute. "What about Amira Renee?" he finally suggests.

You look at him. "Where did you come up with that, Mendes?"

"I've always liked it, Mendes," he responds, laughing at himself.

Before you could say anything else, the nurse comes back into the room with two manilla papers in her hands, and a big smile on her face. She leaves the door open as she crosses the tiled room, to where you lay in the middle of it.

"Hello," she smiles. "I just handed your observation papers into the doctor, so you're all set. Are you ready?"

"Yes," you and Shawn say in unison.

"Okay," she laughs, her glossy, brown bun moving to the side as she tilts her head.

Shawn lets go of your hand for a moment and pulls up your gown enough for the nurse to see your stomach, before stroking your hair and giving you a small smile as he grabs your hand again.

She reaches into the cabinet the monitor sits on and pulls out a small, plastic tube of gel, squeezing it out on your exposed stomach and using a grey, wired holdable to rub over your stomach and get an image on the monitor.

Shawn was staring at you as the nurse wiggles the mouse to the computer, getting it out of the way. You see a baby-shaped figure appear in black and white, extremely small, but noticeable. It was your baby. You were overcome with a feeling of happiness at the sight.

"So?" Shawn says after a while, still grinning. "Is there a dick or not?"

You slap him in the chest with the back of your hand. "Shawn!" you hiss through gritted teeth. "That's so disrespectful!"

"You say it all the time," he argues.

"Yes, when we're alone-- "

"Um, I'm sorry, but we can't determine the sex just yet because I can't seem to get a heartbeat." She pauses when she sees your sudden worried expressions, then laughs. "Nothing to worry about, I'm sure. It could easily be just the position in which the baby is lying."

You sigh in relief, watching as she continues to move the thingy over your stomach, keeping her eyes fixed upon the monitor.

You and Shawn both stare at her in anticipation, before she turns to the opened door just in time to see another nurse walking down the hallway in blue scrubs.

"Annie!" she calls, just as the nurse in the blue scrubs turns, her eyes widening.

"Yeah?"

"Can you get Dr. Hall for me? I'm having some trouble," she explains.

"No problem," the other nurse smiles, continuing down the hallway.

"It'll be fine," Shawn whispers, noticing your jitters. "It's a Mendes baby, of course it's special. It probably just wants attention."

His words seemed to ease your pain, but you didn't have much time to relax until the doctor was already knocking and coming into the lit room.

"Hello," she smiles. "Katelyn, are you having trouble?"

"Yes ma'am," the nurse nods. "I can't get a heartbeat, and... "

"Let me see," she walks over to the monitor, looking at it before screwing around with it some. She looks to you, then Shawn, then back at the monitor. You suddenly got a feeling in the pit of your stomach that something was wrong.

"How far along are you?" she asks finally.

"Twelve weeks today," you say quickly.

She sighs, then pauses for what seems like forever.

"Often times, this happens during the first trimester of the pregnancy," she speaks quietly, slowly. Giving it time to sink in. "It's extremely common, and there's really nothing you can do about it."

"What... What are you saying?" you ask, your voice shaky, afraid of the response.

In your mind, you were simply in denial-- you knew exactly what she was saying. You just couldn't accept it.

"Mrs. Mendes, I don't know how to tell you this. I'm... I'm really sorry. The baby... We can't get a heartbeat."

You shift uncomfortably in the bed, your lips slowly parting as a lump began to form in your throat.

You had told everyone... Your whole family. And now you had to tell them this.

"Do you know how it happened?" Shawn's voice cracks, breaking the silence as both of his hands rest on your palm.

"No, I'm sorry sir, we don't. The majority of the time, miscarriages are random events. It just happens. I'm really sorry."

The lump in your throat grew, and you just wanted to be alone, in your bed, sheltered from everyone. You feel yourself caving, your heart dropping. It hurt like hell.

You don't know when, but soon the doctor and nurse leave, and Shawn was there, on the other side of the bed, pulling your shirt down. Tears were welling up in his eyes, too.

"Y/N," he leans over, kissing your forehead. It only made you cry harder. "I really wanted an Amira Renee Mendes."

You sit up, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "Me too, Shawn," you manage, before breaking out into sobs again.

"We'll get one, one day," he promises, kissing you again as he eases into the bed. "I know we will. We can try again in a few months. Since you got pregnant once, odds are eighty percent that you'll go on to have a bunch of healthy babies afterwards."

"This is bullshit," you shake your head, crying uncontrollably, tears plopping onto the white bedsheets. You wanted to scream, but didn't have the energy. "Stop saying crap and just hug me. I need you more than anything right now."

So he does. He pulls you in, his arms fully wrapping around your body was he leans onto your shoulder and cries into it, while you cry into his.

Everything seemed to fall apart just then, and it was all you could do to hold him tighter. You wanted desperately to stop crying, but he stroked your back gently, and you knew it was okay to. It was bringing you to a sense of release, which you needed.

"I'm so incredibly sorry, sweet girl," he whispers, barely audible. "But it'll be okay. I just know it will."

You couldn't say anything else, so you just believed him. Held on to his promise, clinging to his words with all of your might.

***

*cues sad piano music and hires a cellist to play*

*grabs a box of tissues*