32.)

360 15 0
                                    

TW: mention of a miscarriage, depression

I didn't move for hours. I sat in the same position in my bed from the time I got home from the hospital until the next morning. I didn't sleep. Jughead slept in the room he was in before because he understood that I needed space, but I could hear him crying through the wall.

I don't blame him; Tate was as much his baby as mine. I know Jug tried to keep a brave face around me and I hated that. I needed him to let it out, to express his pain. It wouldn't do him any good to keep everything bottled up. 

My mom was more upset for me and Jug than she was about not having her grandchild. I assumed it was sympathy pains, those only a mother could feel; pains I never would experience.

I felt an overbearing amount of grief and guilt hanging over me at all times like a storm cloud that wouldn't quit. My stomach felt flatter now, even if my form hadn't physically changed. My insides felt lighter than air. I felt almost completely empty; hollowed out like a carved pumpkin.

And there was nothing I could do to change it. No reverse card or backspace. I couldn't put my little boy back inside of me or go back in time.

No matter what the cause of the miscarriage was, I felt guilt. If it was a problem with me or my uterus that I couldn't fix, I felt guilty for not knowing beforehand. I felt guilty that I'd never be able to provide a child for Jughead.

If it was stress like some of the doctors thought, I felt ashamed for not managing it well or at least handling it better. I would assume the stress came from those three months trapped in an underground room, but why did it affect the pregnancy so late?

So I sat alone in my bed; not hungry, not thirsty, just childless and alone. That's when I realized that I never really felt alone with the baby. Even if everyone else was gone and I was home alone, I had my baby. What do I have now?

Before I could think of anything else, I heard noises in the hallway and figured it was my mom coming to check on me. I was a bit surprised to see it was Jughead, who I guess just woke up, coming into the room slowly, rubbing his eyes with his hand.

"Hey, Betts," he said quietly, walking over to the opposite side of the bed and asking, "Can I sit?" I nodded in response, allowing him to sit on top of the covers I laid under before I felt his hand on mine. 

"How are you?" he asked sincerely. I could tell he'd just gotten done crying from the way the skin under his eyes was tinted pink and tears still lightly coated his eyes. 

"I'm," I paused, trying to fit of an accurate adjective. There was none I could think of to describe the utter loss and emptiness I felt; how lonely, how vulnerable. Nothing came to mind, no matter how hard I thought.

"I'm alive," was all I could manage to say eliciting a soft sigh from Jug. I felt maybe he didn't think I was affected as much because I haven't broken down and sobbed since the hospital. In my heart, I'm absolutely rioting. Screaming, sobbing, punching; a wreck.

"How about you?" "I'm alive, too," he answered, nodding slightly. "Do you want breakfast? You must be hungry--" "No, thank you," I interrupted solemnly. "Did you sleep last night?" Jughead asked with a small, sympathetic sigh. 

"I couldn't, Jug," I replied, my eyes starting to tear up. He nodded understandingly. "Do you think you can tonight?" he asked softly. "I don't know yet," I replied simply.

After that, there was silence for a few minutes. Then suddenly, a melody started playing through my head; one that I recognized far too easily. Then the melody became lyrics, and lyrics, a song.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away.

Over and over it played through my head until finally, I started to sing softly. "You were my sunshine, my only sunshine. You made me happy when skies were gray. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you because my sunshine was taken away."

And now, after hours of dry eyes, I was sobbing. One hand on my stomach while the other came over my mouth. "I lost him, Jug. I lost my sunshine," I cried into his embrace heavily, his arms around my back and mine over his shoulders. 

I'll Keep You Safe | BugheadWhere stories live. Discover now