Taylor's POV
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“Taylor” he says to me urgently, I look up into his green eyes and worry. All encompassing anxiety that seizes me. Clutching at my waist, feeling for the baby, checking and sighing. Breathing heavily and feeling hot. The cool floor beneath me as I lay down, looking up at the ceiling.
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“It’ will be okay” he mutters raising his hands, my eyes taking in the blood on them. Staining his shirt as I scream from pain. Pain in my lower abdomen.
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“Taylor” another voice whispers and I dart my head over to the side, noticing his Ralph shirt first and looking up to see his blonde hair scraped back. Concern looks good on him I think idly as I stare into steel grey eyes with a hint of blue.
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“You’ve got this” he smiles and I hold onto his hand, he reaches for me and I push down into my belly. Hearing the faint screams of somebody other than myself. Small cries that echo through the room.
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“I told you, you had it” Jay smiles down at me and I smile faintly before I black out.
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***
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There's not really much worse than waking up to be sick in the middle of the night, however my lucid dreams I think have topped it. Sickness and birth dreams are a sure way to lose a lot of sleep. I sigh hanging over the toilet, and waiting until the sickness clears. Brushing my teeth again throughly in the bathroom before heading back to bed. I crawl into the cool covers and Matthew welcomes me into his arms.
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"Where'd you go?" He asks sleepily as I stroke his hair with my fingers.
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"Sickness again" I tell him softly and he rubs my back in a circular motion.
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"We could ask the nurse for something for it?" He says concerned, opening his eyes.
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"It will pass, it's probably best to let it run its course" I say to him and smile into the dark, stroking his hair and his back. He moans softly and I feel his strong arms link around me. I soothe him back to sleep by stroking his back.
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Gazing down at him I feel for bump as he sleepily moves his hand on top of mine. He caresses me until we both drift off.
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The following morning we wake up together in the best way. Matthew shows me undivided attention, with his hands, his lips and with every single touch that he lays on my body. He takes me out for pancakes for breakfast. As he parks up in the lot of the diner that we visited the first time we thought we were pregnant he smiles over at me and I ruffle his hair. We've come full circle as a couple.
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“Look at us now babe” he smiles taking my hand before walking me into the diner. We had taken emergency contraception, as I was not ready for the commitment of children the first time around.
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“Yes love of my life, father to my children look at us now” I smirk.
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Taking a seat in a booth by the window I pull off my jacket and beanie. The waitress approaches and I smile up at her kindly before ordering.
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“Can I please have a blueberry pancake and a honey and a butterscotch one" I say smiling and she nods writing the order down before glancing at Matthew. He proceeds to order bacon and pancakes. Pulling his jacket off he looks over at me and holds my hands across the booth.
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“I had a dream last night” I explain, decisively leaving Jay out of the equation. After all, telling Matthew that I dream of Jay is not an option.
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“It was sort of a mix starting off with a a lot of worry and pain and then hearing baby cry and presumably being born before I blacked out” I explain and he nods. Seen as we are not heading into university today, I’ve worn a figure hugging black dress. The waitress glances down at my bump before she leaves the coffee and coke on our table. I rest my hand underneath baby as I look over at Matthew.
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“It’s a lot to get your head around and a lot emotionally. We were having two and now one. And your head is probably still processing that” he says softly.
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“I just wonder whether it was a boy or girl” I say softly.
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“And like when this baby is born and grows up do we tell him or her that he or she was a twin” I say and he looks at me softly as I cup bump in my hands.
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“I suppose when our child gets to an age whereby we both feel they are emotionally ready to take that on then we could” he says maturely.
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“It’s just that I will always think about that baby; it’s not something that I will just forget. Every birthday, every little moment, the first time this baby walks I’ll wonder whether baby b would have done it all the same” I say softly and he listens.
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“I think Matthew that it would be healthy and in order to grieve that baby, the one that I lost. That we give him or her a name, something more than baby b.” I say up to him wiping my eye of the tear that has escaped.
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“Maybe a gender neutral name” he comments and I smile. I grasp his hand across the booth again and he watches me thinking and brainstorming in his head. The pancakes arrive and I tuck in, clearing my plate entirely. Looking out at the parking lot and beyond to see the shops that line the streets. I think about baby b wondering what he or she may have been like and I curse myself for losing all of that opportunity and life. Even though nurses tell you that it’s not your fault and that there’s no specific reason for it too happen; it’s inevitable that as the mother, the one responsible for holding and keeping the baby safe that when miscarriage occurs you pin it all on yourself.
And for us, part of our pregnancy still remains healthy inside of me which is of course an absolute blessing. Yet one cannot help but to be reminded of the lost baby, the sorrow that goes along with that every time we talk about the now single embryo in my womb.
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I head to the restroom, and freshen up eating a mint and glancing in the mirror at my now round bump. The mixture of emotions I feel; the triumph for baby a and the desperation for the baby that will never be. It’s heady, all consuming and making me feel lost. I think about Matthew’s mom and my own mother and how I’m going to have to tell them that I lost one of the babies. I cannot suppress the shame I feel, already seeing the sympathetic faces before me. Hearing the reassuring phrases they will say, the nurse had said she was sorry for our loss and it had broken me. I lost my baby, I dash into a cubicle before I’m sick in the sink.
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Once I emerge from the bathroom, Matty places my jacket over my shoulders and we leave. He wraps his arms around my waist possessively as we walk through the stores together. I grab a few essentials and we look at some maternity clothes which makes me cringe inwardly. The overall style of them is pretty mature and I decide I’ll just have to improvise or buy plus size clothes.
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Ambling past the prams I gaze at the twin seater pushchairs and look away surprised by the sting of hurt I feel. Having purchased some prenatal vitamins we stroll back to the car and he clips me in.
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“What would you like for dinner” he asks me gazing at me from the drivers side.
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“Baby wants Mexican tonight” I laugh deciding to shrug off my melancholy mood for him, and to start celebrating the baby I still have.
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“Fajitas” he smiles as he pulls up and parks in the local food store.
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Matthew pushes the trolley around and we bag the items we need, I hold onto him and he smiles reassuringly.
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“Harper” I say looking up at him in the vegetable aisle.
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“We would have called him or her Harper” I smile and his face softens as we head over to the tills.
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“Baby harper” he smiles down at me and I wipe my eyes.
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“Would have had your eyes” he whispers as we leave and walk to the car through the biting cold.
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“Would have had your gorgeous hair” I tell him, imagining baby harper and how he or she would have grown up. Pulling me into his chest he kisses me on my cheek before he unlocks the car. My nose red from the cold as I sit and wait for the heaters to warm me up.
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On the route home the snow picks up again and he slows the car right down. I glance over at him and wonder how I managed to be with somebody so protective and caring. How is it possible that Matty and his brunette hair, mysterious green eyes wearing a black biker jacket can be so utterly devoted to me. To me and our little baby.
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