“For fuck’s sake,” Brody half yelled. He pulled to a stop outside my house and I didn’t bother waiting for whatever explanation he’d come up with. I ran up the stairs and unlocked my front door before hurriedly entering. Again, Brody was hot on my heels.

“I know you’re no longer the same person you were, Demetria, and neither am I, but I didn’t realize you’d become so irresponsible.”

I whirled around and faced him, unable to keep a lid on my brewing indignation. “What are you talking about, Brody? You keep talking in circles, so just spit it out!”

“You were drinking, and last I heard that’s not good for the baby.”

His words caught me off guard and I froze, feeling the color drain from my face.

“What baby?”

“The one you’re carrying, Goddamit! And don’t lie to me. I saw the ultrasound!”

I was so confused. “What ultrasound?” My voice shook.

“The one next to your bed, I saw it when I brought you home the other night.”

Oh God. No no no no. How could I have been so reckless?

“It’s not – “

“Don’t lie to me, not about this. You said you weren’t seeing Jeff, which was obviously a lie too.”

“No, I wasn’t lying. There was nothing going on between us.”

“Are you telling me you’re pregnant with someone else’s baby?” The disgust in Brody’s voice was thick and protruding. I stared at him, until finally I couldn’t take it anymore. I cracked.

“NO!” I bawled, feeling hot tears spill over my eyelids. “It was our baby! That ultrasound is of YOUR baby!”  I placed my hand over my mouth and cried, watching Brody’s face blanch. My secret was out, and there was no way for me to take it back, no matter how hard I wished for it. I clutched my stomach, fighting the need to double over. I closed my eyes and immediately regretted it…

“Can someone help us, please?” Huntley asked, looking around at the Emergency Room nurses. It was three a.m. and I’d called Huntley after I woke up bleeding. I knew something was wrong. I could feel it.

The truth was, as surprised as I was about my pregnancy, I was excited. It had been a difficult few weeks but I’d focused on the little life in my belly and it had somehow given me something other than Brody to live for. He’d left me two months ago, and yet the ache in my chest hurt as if it was yesterday that he’d walked out my front door. I hadn’t spoken to him at all, and when he did call, I ignored it. If he knew about the baby he would have stayed because he had to and I wasn’t prepared to carry that on my shoulders. So instead, I’d lost one thing and gained another. A part of me wished he was here to experience this with me but I silenced it when I reminded myself that our life together wasn’t enough for him. I doubted having this baby would have made him want to stay.

“What seems to be the problem?” and elderly nursed asked, looking at us from over her glasses.

“My friend is pregnant and she’s in a lot of pain and she’s bleeding.”

The nurse walked around the counter and her eyes grew wide when she saw me. I was pale and when I looked down, I saw blood trailing down my leg.

“Who’s your doctor?”

“Dr. Bates,” Huntley replied quickly. I was in too much pain and too scared to say anything. I was losing my baby.

The nurse hurried to the phone and after a quick phone call, she came rushing towards us with a wheelchair. I sat down, crying out in pain, and I was wheeled to the Maternity floor where we found Dr. Bates waiting for us. Without saying I word, he escorted us into a delivery room. Nurses started hooking me up to all kinds of equipment and I started panicking. Dr. Bates pressed my hard belly and I cried out.

“We’re going to do an ultrasound,” he said. The expression on his face was of no comfort and only added to my distress. A nurse squirted a cold gel onto my skin and Dr. Bates wasted no time. He pressed the wand onto my belly and moved it around.

“Dammit,” he muttered. He turned to face me, looking forlorn. “Miss. Rosemead, I’m sorry to have to tell you this but I can’t find a heartbeat.”

The floor dropped from beneath my feet and once again my world came crumbling down.

“W-why?” I asked, “What’s wrong.”

“I’m afraid you have a case of placental abruption, and if we don’t deliver your baby now, you could bleed out.” He didn’t give me time to respond before a nurse separated my legs and removed my panties. My dress was lifted up to my waist and I leaned up on my elbows to see what he was doing.

“She’s already dilated, and we don’t have time for a C-section,” he said to a nurse. He turned his gaze back to me. “You have to deliver your baby naturally Miss. Rosemead, but you’re too far dilated for an epidural - “

“Is the baby okay?” I asked, cutting him off. When he didn’t answer immediately, I yelled, “Tell me!”

“No,” he paused, “I’m afraid your baby has died.”

I stared at him and felt the life drain from my own body. My baby was dead. It couldn’t be. It had to have been a nightmare and I would wake up any second. It wasn’t real.

“Oh God,” Huntley cried next to me. I looked up at her and burst into tears. My baby. Dead.

I screamed when a sharp pain shot through my abdomen.

“Doctor,” a nurse said, “We’re ready.”

He nodded, and took a seat at the end of the bed between my legs.

“Okay, Miss. Rosemead, I’m going to need you to push. Now.”

“No,” I cried. “Please, it hurts too much.”

Huntley squeezed my hand reassuringly but it didn’t help. I was devastated, and now I had to deliver my dead baby.

“Push,” Dr. Bates ordered. I shook my head, and cried harder.

“Please, no. I can’t do this. I can’t.”

Huntley cried next to me and I realized that while it was a nightmare, it was in fact real, and I wasn’t going to wake up.

“Please push Demi, you have to do this,” Huntley pleaded with a tear streaked face. I took a shaky breath and started pushing. The pain was excruciating and it felt like I was being sliced through the middle. Dr. Bates ordered me to stop but the reprieve didn’t last.

“Please,” I sobbed, “make it stop.”

“We’re almost there, Miss. Rosemead. Push.”

I gritted my teeth and bore down, giving it my all. It wasn’t until I saw Dr. Bates lift the baby that it all really sunk in. When a nurse took the baby from him, I waited for the cry. It never came.

“What is it?” I asked.

Dr. Bates looked up from where he was cleaning me up, sadness marring his face. “A girl.”

“A girl,” I whispered. A little girl.

She was wrapped in a pink blanket when they handed her to me and for a short time I had no idea what to do or say.

“Did you have a name?” I looked up at Huntley and then back down at my daughter.

“Gracie,” I replied, struggling to get the word past the lump in my throat. “Her name is Gracie.”

Her eyes were closed, but I imagined they were brown like Brody’s. She had a sprinkling of hair on her head, light and blonde. At only five months she was already her daddy’s girl. Only that wasn’t true, because she was gone. With teary eyes I pressed a kiss to her forehead in the hopes that she knew she was loved, no matter how short her time on Earth had been. She was made up of the best parts of me and Brody, something I would always remember. I suddenly felt exhausted. So very tired. I couldn’t understand why my heart was still beating, and my little girl’s wasn’t. It was cruel.