Michael Clifford Imagines

Small Bump

Small Bump - Michael Clifford

By: ofacoustic

You're just a small bump unborn, in four months, you're brought to life.

You had your hand tightly entwined with Michael's as you sat in the Doctor's office. You found out two months ago that you were pregnant, which was a miracle. You and Michael had been trying since last year to get pregnant but each time, you miscarried.

"Everything's going to be fine. We'll hear the baby's heartbeat again, okay?" He said, kissing your cheek.

You wanted to say, "Yeah, yeah, it'll be fine." But in reality, all you could think of was what if you didn't hear the heartbeat? What if you had miscarried again. You were only two months along, there was a possiblity you could miscarry still.

You looked down at the engagement ring on your finger. You guys had never really talked about marriage since Michael was always away with the band but with you being pregnant, he said he felt the need to be married because he wanted you to be called a wife and a mother.

When the nurse called your name, you felt your heart beating loudly in your chest. What if everything went wrong? What if this was another failed attempt.

Michael stood up and you followed suit. He brought his hand up to his mouth and kissed it. "Everything will be okay."

You followed the nurse back into the ultrasound room. Everything flashed back from the last time you were here.

"Alright lovely lady, let's hear this baby's heartbeat." The nurse said, spreading the gel across your stomach.

You couldn't wait to hear the heartbeat again. The baby had such a beautiful one, it was like it was playing a song. You held onto Michael's hand as the nurse started rubbing the ultrasound machine across your stomach.

You closed your eyes and waited for the heartbeat. You waited, and waited, and waited but there was no sound coming from the machine.

"W-why is there no heartbeat? Why can't you find a heartbeat?!" You asked.

The nurse gulped and pulled the machine away. "I am so, so, sorry."

You stared at the lady, panicked. "What's going on?!"

"You've miscarried ma'am. I am so sorry."

You laid down on the table as the nurse pulled up your shirt. She started rubbing the ultrasound gel on your stomach.

"So are you getting ready for this baby?" the nurse asked.

"Yeah, we're starting to get the room ready and everything. We're excited." Michael said.

"Alright, let's listen to this baby."

And when the nurse started rubbing the ultrasound on you, you wanted to hold in your breath. You wanted it to all be over and that the baby was born already.

"So are you hoping for a boy or girl?" the nurse asked.

"I don't think it matters to either of us what the baby's gender is, just that it's happy and healthy. Although I would love a little girl." Michael said.

There was absolute silence. No sound was coming from the machine. Your heart was beating so loudly in your chest. This couldn't be right, you couldn't lose another baby.

The nurse sighed and pulled the machine away. "I'm assuming you know what this means."

Michael looked down, absolutely heartbroken. You had tried six times to carry a baby through term and you thought maybe seven times was your lucky number.

"I'm so sorry for your loss. Maybe you two should go see a proffessional Doctor about this." The nurse said before getting up and leaving the room.

That's when you burst into tears. Maybe this was the world's way of saying "You shouldn't have kids."

You stood up and walked over to Michael, hugging him tightly. He was crying too and it hurt you so bad to hear him. He didn't cry often but every time this happened, he always did.

"Will-will we try again?" He asked.

I frowned. "Maybe this is a sign we shouldn't."

'Cause you were just a small bump unborn for four months then torn from life.

—————————————————

You flipped the light switch on and walked into the room. The walls were still the white you had painted it months ago. You refused to change this room. The little shelf on the wall held a frame and a little name plate.

You walked up to it and ran your fingers over the glass of the frame, which held the ultrasound picture of your last pregnancy. You could feel the tear slightly falling from your eyes but you tried your best to ignore them.

As you stared at the ultrasound picture, all you could remember was what your friend had told you a few months ago.

"Sometimes life isn't fair; it takes things away from the very best people. But sometimes life can be fair; it gives back to the people it took away from and usually, it's much better."

Maybe you were needed up there but we're still unware as why