fall into despair

Despair, anger, and grief waged a war inside you as you lay on the worn out couch. The tears had stopped by this point, but your shattered heart had yet to heal. Each time the clock ticked, you felt unease creep deeper and deeper into your stomach. It was another second closer to your husband’s arrival home from work.

Three months ago, you had a miscarriage. Four months pregnant with a baby girl, and now she was gone. You’d kept yourself holed up in the home, the couch becoming your own little nest of depression. Charlie had to keep working at the hospital. He didn’t have time to mourn like you did. But it meant facing your grief alone.

You were starting to worry that this miscarriage was going to tear your marriage apart. Charlie seemed almost resentful that you hadn’t even attempted to pick yourself up after the tragedy. Instead, it seemed like everyday you fell further and further into your despair.

The front door unlocked, but you didn’t move as Charlie walked in. He signed when he saw you on the couch covered in blankets and pillows, staring hauntingly at the wall ahead of you.

“Hi.”

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