Owned by Him (Editing)

Hell Haveth No Fury like a Grieving Mother

TW - Mention of stillborn baby and grief .

The next time I woke up, my head was resting against Phoenix's chest. His breathing was steady. Up and down. Up and down.

His chest was bare and his skin warm against my cheek. His earthy scent drifted across my nose, offering a much-needed comfort I would need in order to face the day. With my arm starting to go numb from where I has been lying on it for who knows how long, I tried to reposition myself. However, as I propped myself up onto my elbows, I stilled as my eyes caught site of the cotton Moses basket sat halfway across the room. The rhythm of my breathing went from steady and calm to laboured and staggering within seconds. My heart felt as though it had been smashed into a million parts and my mind fell silent.

I needed to see her. I needed to cradle her against me and tell her how much I loved her. So, despite the excruciating pain rippling through my lower abdomen, I shuffled myself to the side of the bed and removed all of the intravenous lines that were latched to each of my cannulas. With the help of the bedrail, I managed to haul myself onto my feet. The pain was horrendous and unlike anything I had ever known but I was determined to get to my baby girl. The first three steps were the hardest but once I saw those tiny toes under the softest pink blanket, nothing could stop me. With another two steps, I was at her side.

There she was. My beautiful girl. Still and silent.

She was tiny. So much so that I was irrationally terrified that if I picked her up, I would cause her some kind of harm. Her arm was sitting on top of the pink blanket and her teeny head was resting to the side.

Her hand was partially open as if she was waiting for me to hold it. Her toes were the smallest I had ever seen, they only just peeked out from beneath the blanket. Her facial features were perfect in every way. Her eyes were softly closed, and her teeny nose looked the same shape as Phoenix's. Her eyelashes pressed against her tender cheek and her lips were shaped like a baby version of Cupid's bow. It broke something deep in my soul. She looked so perfect and yet she wasn't breathing.

After admiring every inch of her, I leaned down and lifted her into my arms. My darling girl was so petite and so light in my arms that it admittedly took me by surprise. Her skin was ice cold, and I couldn't stand the thought of it. I fleetly wrapped the pink blanket around her and cradled her to my chest.

"It's okay, baby girl. Mumma is here. Mumma is right here." I whispered, my lips pressing lightly against her head.

"She's stunning, isn't she?" Phoenix asked, startling me as he came up behind and rested his head on my shoulder.

"She is." I wept, stroking the tip of my finger through the soft hair at the back of her head.

Phoenix embraced the two of us and held us tight. Neither of us spoke but both of us sobbed for our beautiful girl.

"What should we call her?" Phoenix eventually asked, wiping the trail of tears his own heartbreak had left.

"Alani Anais James-Abelard." I replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her tiny head.

Phoenix pressed a kiss against my temple and said, "It's perfect for her."

After a while, the pain from the caesarean wound became far too excruciating to dismiss and so Phoenix assisted me back to the bed where he helped me get comfortable. I sat in upward position with Alani laid between my legs. I couldn't stop looking at her. I couldn't stop drinking every one of features in. She was so small but so astoundingly beautiful. I traced the tip of my finger tenderly over her cheeks, across her adorable lips, over the bridge of her tiny nose. I wanted to remember every detail of her.