Verbatim: Part Two [h.s]

Twenty-Three

// Double Update - Part One \\

2 Weeks Later

It's the middle of March. The weather has been getting warmer, a little earlier than usual but the sun has been shining bright.

Harry and I, we haven't been shining so bright. Or appreciating the sunny weather. We've been... sad. Mourning. And I hate to feel it, think it, know it. I feel guilty but Harry is feeling it more than me.

The first 24 hours I felt numb, I don't even know what happened within that time. I don't remember much more after finding out, I don't remember the doctor coming in and answering some questions. We came to the conclusion that after the kidnapping, I never took my pill again as it was the last thing on my mind. I can't believe I had forgotten to start taking it again but I had, and of course, Harry and I have had a lot of unprotected sex so of course, this would be the outcome.

It also turns out I was about 6 to 8 weeks pregnant, it was early and miscarriages are more common than people believe. I think the doctor said something like 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage. A devastating statistic that broke my heart for not only myself but so many other women.

But that knowledge actually made me feel less alone. An it actually helped me get past my guilt around losing the baby. Harry had immediately booked an emergency appointment with the therapists for both of us which we went to a few days after finding out. I'm glad we did that because I certainly needed to talk, to get advice on getting around this loss and I came out of that session feeling some sort of resolve.

And that's when things started to change with my grieving and Harrys.

I remember when we got home from the hospital, Harry had gotten Niall to come back and grab us both clean clothes since the others had gotten dirty. We both walked into the silence of the apartment, you could feel the previous panic and anxiety still in the air. It felt tight. Harry had gripped onto my hand so tightly, I know I was in pain and I passed out, but Harry had to experience all that and deal with it. Alone. He had to panic, watching me hurt, watching me break and then pick me up off the ground. 

It had caused tears to fall on their own as we walked through the apartment. 

When we made it to the bedroom, the room was spotless and the bed was made. Not how we left it. I knew that. I silently thank Niall for fixing that for us. We'd both automatically climbed into bed, under the sheets, I curled into Harry's chest and he wrapped his arms around me. and we both just led there. Not sleeping. Not talking. Just breathing. Barely living. 

That 24 hour period was the worst. 

We were both broken. 

Then, I started to feel like myself again. The grief didn't leave but I learnt to live with it. My head managed to wrap itself around the idea of not becoming a mum right now and in all honesty, I felt a slight wave of relief. I spoke with Barbara about how that made me feel like an awful person, feeling relieved for not being able to have my child. But I had explained how in my head, in my life right now, I am in no position to bring a child into the world. As much as I know I would love that child with my whole heart, I would do anything for them, I am in no mental or physical state for one right now.

And me being able to think like that, being able to see that everything happens for a reason and that this was just meant to happen, although it is so awful, made my grieving and moving on easier.

Harry doesn't quite see it like me. Maybe it's because he wants kids anytime now, he has said it from the start how he has always wanted them. he told me how he never felt like he deserved to have them or would even be given the chance. Until me. that made me feel awful because I had taken this from him. But he not once put this on me, it was not my fault and he told me that all the time. he was just upset that he could've been a dad. And the thought, the images flashing in my mind, made my chest grow tight and my heart beat fast.