A Mother's Love
Title: A Mother’s Love
Author: Froxyn
Rating: PG
Author’s Note: This was written for Challenge 2 at ficlet_las. The prompt was "Before and After" and this fic has not been betaed as per the rules. This was the first thing that came to mind. Must’ve happened for a reason. This is not fanfic.
Allie inhaled shakily, a silent tear rolling down her cheek as she looked down at her newborn son.
The uncontrollable sobbing had stopped…for the time being. She was sure that she’d break down again sooner rather than later. But at that moment, just holding him calmed her somewhat.
She took that time to look at him, to take in his features. She could already see that he looked like his mother…his birth mother, that is.
See…she and her girlfriend, Zoe, had been trying to have a baby for a few years. And just a few months earlier, they’d gotten the results that they’d so desperately wanted.
They were going to have a baby.
She had known in her heart from the very beginning that it was a boy. She couldn’t explain how she’d known, it was just something she’d felt. She’d said more than once that she would’ve been just as happy to have a girl…and she would have. But, she felt that it was a boy.
And that had been confirmed at the nineteen week scan.
She stroked his tiny hand…hands like his mother’s…and another tear fell.
The months leading up to this moment had been full of excitement. Furniture had been bought, but not yet put together. Bedding and clothes…a pair of beautiful bookends that were sculpted zebras. Paint for the nursery had been purchased, but there had been no time to get his room ready.
His nineteen week scan had just been the week before.
Allie leant down and pressed a tender kiss to his head before whispering her love to him. And then she placed him back in his other mother’s arms.
So perfect, so beautiful…but so very tiny and so very early.
He was the lucky one in all of this. He had slept through it all. And though she supposed it might sound heartless to some, she was grateful for the fact that her son was born sleeping with his thumb in his mouth.
He’d had no chance and there would’ve been no efforts to save him. And so it was some comfort that he’d hadn’t had to struggle.
That was the part she was grateful for. He’d hadn’t had to struggle. She was positively certain that she wouldn’t have been able to cope with watching her son fight to live when there was nothing she, or anyone else, could do to help him.
She sat down on the edge of Zoe’s hospital bed and watched her talk to their son.
That was when she felt the pain start again. The kind of pain that threatens to drop you to your knees and makes you gasp for the breath you just can’t seem to find. But, she pushed it back…because this was precious time that they have with him.
Instead of giving into the pain, she reached for the camera and snapped a picture of Zoe and their little boy. Michael. His name had come almost instantly to both of them. They just looked at him and knew that he was a Michael even though it hadn’t been a name that they had entertained during their many talks concerning that very subject.
She lowered the camera and looked at the picture. She thought to herself that it was actually a pretty good shot…but, she couldn’t turn that thought into words.
When she looked back up, she watched a tear slide down Zoe’s cheek. And then it hit her…really hit her.
Their lives would never be the same again.
Just seven days earlier, there had been no signs of any impending problems with their child. And they hadn’t really even thought about it, to be very honest. After all, they’d gotten past the twelve-week mark. That’s the danger zone in any pregnancy…the first trimester. And they had sailed through that with flying colors.
No one ever thinks about what could happen later. They never thought about what could happen later. It was just assumed that everything would be fine.
But that blissful ignorance had been snatched from them. And they’d never be able to get that back. Even if they decided to try again, they’d never have that innocence again. One week earlier, they had it. But, now?
Allie watched Zoe curl Michael’s hand around her pinky. Now they were mothers without a child to take home with them.
They would never hear their son cry or giggle. They would never watch him take his first steps. They would never see his reactions to his first foods. There wouldn’t be a cake for him to smash his little hand in on his first birthday.
Everything that they had just taken for granted…it had all been snatched away in just a matter of moments.
She fought back her tears as Zoe lovingly placed their baby in the bassinet. The nurse was there, standing to the side and patiently waiting to take him back down to the…
She closed her eyes, flinching against the pain when the word flashed in her mind.
Morgue.
They were taking their beautiful son to the morgue. Not to a nursery where it was bright and warm and bustling with energy.
She took a deep breath and then reopened her eyes. She shuffled around the bed and swallowed hard. Leaning down, she kissed his head one more time and promised him that they would see him tomorrow.
Because they would. The social worker had told them that they could have as much time as they wanted with their child. They would be going home later that night, but they had already made an appointment to spend some time with him the following day.
She ran her thumb along the sole of his right foot and a sad smile played on her lips. The nurse asked if they wanted more time with him, but she slowly shook her head. Not because she didn’t want more, but because she knew if they spent more time with him then it would be harder for them when the nurse had to take him.
It was just better if this was on their terms right now. The nurse seemed to understand. Sadly, it wasn’t the first time she’d had to watch parents grieve the loss of their child.
Allie sat back down on the bed and pulled Zoe into her arms as the midwife rolled the bassinet out of the room. Nothing had prepared them for this type of pain.
Nothing could have prepared them.
Zoe lay down and curled her knees to her chest, breaking down once more. Allie shifted so that she could lie behind her as best she could on the single-sized hospital bed. She pulled Zoe’s back against her chest and pressed a soft kiss into her hair.
There were no words. There was nothing that could be said to make things better. And she couldn’t tell her that everything would be alright. Because, really…she didn’t know if things would be alright ever again.
And so she did what she could…and she held her. She held her until Zoe finally fell into some semblance of sleep. Only when she was sure that Zoe wasn’t going to wake up did Allie even think about moving.
Knowing that she would just become restless and disturb Zoe, Allie carefully climbed from the bed and slipped out the door of the hospital room.
As soon as she opened the door, she heard a baby crying down the hall. She quickly lowered her eyes in an attempt to hide her pain. She hoped that the other new mother knew how very lucky she was. She hoped that she would never take those cries for granted.
But, Allie knew she would. Because that new mother was just like she was yesterday. She never thought that she could lose her child.
The only difference between them was the fact that that new mother hadn’t lost her child. She wouldn’t feel the blinding, crippling pain that Allie was feeling just then.
Even through her pain, she was happy for that new mother who was trying to soothe her newborn daughter.
She glanced at the nurse’s station and offered one of the midwives a weak smile. The midwife returned the gesture and even Allie could see the sympathy in her eyes. And then Allie took a deep breath and made her way down the hall towards the patients’ lounge.
There was a coffee machine in there. She just hoped she could grab her coffee and get back to the room before Zoe woke up. The last thing she wanted was for Zoe to wake up alone.
* * *
Later, she would have a vague memory of the midwife asking if she was okay.
She wouldn’t recall giving an answer.
* * *
Time had passed and not a day had gone by that their son hadn’t been mentioned in one way or another. Allie sighed heavily as her thoughts drifted to the events of the past few months.
She’d been told that the hardest days would be planning and attending Michael’s funeral. But, while those days were horrible…they hadn’t been the hardest ones. It was impossible for her to label any particular day as the hardest, but she knew that it wasn’t his funeral.
She knew that it wasn’t the hardest because she had a hard time remembering it. And you always remember the hardest things. But, when she thought back on that day, it all seemed like a dream. Like she was standing on the outside, looking through a frosted glass pane.
At first, it bothered her that she couldn’t remember it. But, then she realized that it was probably one of those blessings in disguise. In all honesty, who really wants to remember their child’s funeral in perfect detail? She wasn’t too concerned though…the funeral director had had it recorded. It was on a dvd, his name in blue letters on the label. It had never been played, but she knew where it was if she decided that she wanted to watch it.
She wasn’t ready to see it yet. And she really wasn’t sure if or when she’d ever be. But, she was okay with that, too.
Zoe and Allie had gone through his things not that long ago. They really didn’t have all that much, so everything they did have was more precious than they could describe. They had the memory box and the blanket that had been given to them by the hospital. They had the identification bracelet that had been on his thigh. They had his footprints and a handprint. They had his birth certificate. They had one hundred and seven pictures.
And they had his ashes.
But what mattered to her the most….what meant more to her than any tangible item that she could touch and feel…were her memories.
Her first thought when she saw him that very first time. The fear of holding him. That feeling of complete and utter amazement as she looked at him…really looked at him…and saw how perfect he was. How the soles of his feet felt like velvet…so smooth and soft. How the messages of love poured in from their friends and family.
Her memories meant the world to her. But, memories do tend to fade no matter how tightly you hold onto them.
So, one night when the house was quiet, she curled up on the couch in the living room with a spiral bound notebook, a pen, and a cup of hot coffee. She sat there and stared at the blank page of paper for what seemed like hours…not knowing what to write or how it would sound once it was written down.
She finished her coffee and finally put the pen to the paper. And she began to write.
She didn’t pay attention to what she was writing, whether there were punctuation errors, or whether the words were the perfect ones to use. She just wrote.
When she was finished, she looked at the clock and was surprised to see that she’d been writing nonstop for three hours…and she’d filled over half of the notebook. She gently placed the notebook on the couch cushion and got up. She wandered into the kitchen as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake Zoe.
She made another cup of coffee and walked into the hall. She leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom door and smiled as she watched Zoe sleep. She stood there for only a few minutes, worried that Zoe would wake up and wonder why she was being spied on as she slept.
Another sip of coffee and she pushed away from the door, deciding to head back into the living room. Just a few more minutes, she promised herself. Just long enough to read through what she had written.
She picked up the notebook from the couch and sat on the floor instead. She leaned back against the couch and bent her legs, resting the book across her thighs. Blowing a puff of air over the top of her coffee mug, she opened the cover and began to read.
* * *
Four months later, the notebook had been finished and Allie had started on another.
But this notebook wasn’t exactly a book of memories. This notebook was a book of stories. Children’s stories to be exact. Something she’d never thought about doing before.
She looked up and grinned when Zoe walked into the room, a bowl of popcorn in her hands.
"Hey…"
"What are you doing?" Zoe asked, amusement showing in her eyes.
Allie grinned and patted the couch cushion next to her. "Sit down and I’ll show you."
Zoe arched an eyebrow at her, but sat down anyway. She placed the bowl on her thighs and popped a piece of corn into her mouth.
"So, what are you up to?" She asked after chewing and swallowing.
Allie turned towards her, taking a deep breath and opening the notebook. "Thought I’d read to the baby…something I wrote, you know?"
Zoe smiled lovingly and moved closer to her. "What’s this one about?"
"In this one, Mikey’s going to be a big brother. It’s all about him meeting his little sibling."
Zoe chuckled and then leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Sibling? Is it a boy or a girl?"
Allie gave her girlfriend a bright smile and shrugged her shoulder before reaching over and gently rubbing Zoe’s abdomen. "Don’t know yet…the story isn’t really finished."
Zoe smiled back at her and nodded. "Okay…let’s hear it."
As Allie started to read, Zoe focused on her words. One of these days, she’d do her best to convince Allie to send her stories in to one of those publishers of children’s books. But, right now…she was more than happy to have them for themselves.
The stories had helped them both through their grief. The loss of their first child was the worst thing they’d ever gone through. But, they’d held on to one another and here they were…just a few weeks away from giving birth to their second child.
She knew that Allie had been worried about the memories of their son fading…and she knew that was the very reason Allie had started writing the stories. Zoe smiled as she reached the part of the story where Mikey was looking at the new baby.
Memories may fade somewhat…but a mother’s love never does. Neither Zoe nor Allie were the same people they were before they lost their son. But, they had adjusted over time…and learned how to be the people they are now. They had even learned to enjoy being the people they are now.
They were two loving mothers to two beautiful children. And just like Allie, Zoe couldn’t wait to tell their new baby about his or her big brother, Michael.
She glanced over at Michael’s picture, propped up where it had always been…behind and slightly to the right of his urn. She rubbed her abdomen, smiling as the baby kicked against her hand when Allie finished reading.
"Do you think this little one will look like Michael?"
Allie set the notebook to the side and leaned over to kiss Zoe’s cheek. "Well…they’re from the same batch, there’s a good chance he will."
Zoe rolled her eyes and met Allie’s gaze. "Or there’s a good chance she will?"
Allie laughed and stole a handful of Zoe’s popcorn.
They may not have been the same people they were before Michael was born, but the important things had stayed the same. And when Allie thought about how much she loved Zoe and their children, she realized something.
She realized that she much preferred the person she was now. Even though she had had to live through something no parent should ever have to, she was the person she was now because of Michael. And she wouldn’t trade loving Michael for anything in the world.
As Zoe looked over at Michael’s picture again and smiled, Allie smiled too.
She was pretty sure that Zoe might just feel the exact same way.
~ End
Ending Notes:
As you can imagine, this is a very personal fic to me. Thank you for reading.
Author: Froxyn
Rating: PG
Author’s Note: This was written for Challenge 2 at ficlet_las. The prompt was "Before and After" and this fic has not been betaed as per the rules. This was the first thing that came to mind. Must’ve happened for a reason. This is not fanfic.
Allie inhaled shakily, a silent tear rolling down her cheek as she looked down at her newborn son.
The uncontrollable sobbing had stopped…for the time being. She was sure that she’d break down again sooner rather than later. But at that moment, just holding him calmed her somewhat.
She took that time to look at him, to take in his features. She could already see that he looked like his mother…his birth mother, that is.
See…she and her girlfriend, Zoe, had been trying to have a baby for a few years. And just a few months earlier, they’d gotten the results that they’d so desperately wanted.
They were going to have a baby.
She had known in her heart from the very beginning that it was a boy. She couldn’t explain how she’d known, it was just something she’d felt. She’d said more than once that she would’ve been just as happy to have a girl…and she would have. But, she felt that it was a boy.
And that had been confirmed at the nineteen week scan.
She stroked his tiny hand…hands like his mother’s…and another tear fell.
The months leading up to this moment had been full of excitement. Furniture had been bought, but not yet put together. Bedding and clothes…a pair of beautiful bookends that were sculpted zebras. Paint for the nursery had been purchased, but there had been no time to get his room ready.
His nineteen week scan had just been the week before.
Allie leant down and pressed a tender kiss to his head before whispering her love to him. And then she placed him back in his other mother’s arms.
So perfect, so beautiful…but so very tiny and so very early.
He was the lucky one in all of this. He had slept through it all. And though she supposed it might sound heartless to some, she was grateful for the fact that her son was born sleeping with his thumb in his mouth.
He’d had no chance and there would’ve been no efforts to save him. And so it was some comfort that he’d hadn’t had to struggle.
That was the part she was grateful for. He’d hadn’t had to struggle. She was positively certain that she wouldn’t have been able to cope with watching her son fight to live when there was nothing she, or anyone else, could do to help him.
She sat down on the edge of Zoe’s hospital bed and watched her talk to their son.
That was when she felt the pain start again. The kind of pain that threatens to drop you to your knees and makes you gasp for the breath you just can’t seem to find. But, she pushed it back…because this was precious time that they have with him.
Instead of giving into the pain, she reached for the camera and snapped a picture of Zoe and their little boy. Michael. His name had come almost instantly to both of them. They just looked at him and knew that he was a Michael even though it hadn’t been a name that they had entertained during their many talks concerning that very subject.
She lowered the camera and looked at the picture. She thought to herself that it was actually a pretty good shot…but, she couldn’t turn that thought into words.
When she looked back up, she watched a tear slide down Zoe’s cheek. And then it hit her…really hit her.
Their lives would never be the same again.
Just seven days earlier, there had been no signs of any impending problems with their child. And they hadn’t really even thought about it, to be very honest. After all, they’d gotten past the twelve-week mark. That’s the danger zone in any pregnancy…the first trimester. And they had sailed through that with flying colors.
No one ever thinks about what could happen later. They never thought about what could happen later. It was just assumed that everything would be fine.
But that blissful ignorance had been snatched from them. And they’d never be able to get that back. Even if they decided to try again, they’d never have that innocence again. One week earlier, they had it. But, now?
Allie watched Zoe curl Michael’s hand around her pinky. Now they were mothers without a child to take home with them.
They would never hear their son cry or giggle. They would never watch him take his first steps. They would never see his reactions to his first foods. There wouldn’t be a cake for him to smash his little hand in on his first birthday.
Everything that they had just taken for granted…it had all been snatched away in just a matter of moments.
She fought back her tears as Zoe lovingly placed their baby in the bassinet. The nurse was there, standing to the side and patiently waiting to take him back down to the…
She closed her eyes, flinching against the pain when the word flashed in her mind.
Morgue.
They were taking their beautiful son to the morgue. Not to a nursery where it was bright and warm and bustling with energy.
She took a deep breath and then reopened her eyes. She shuffled around the bed and swallowed hard. Leaning down, she kissed his head one more time and promised him that they would see him tomorrow.
Because they would. The social worker had told them that they could have as much time as they wanted with their child. They would be going home later that night, but they had already made an appointment to spend some time with him the following day.
She ran her thumb along the sole of his right foot and a sad smile played on her lips. The nurse asked if they wanted more time with him, but she slowly shook her head. Not because she didn’t want more, but because she knew if they spent more time with him then it would be harder for them when the nurse had to take him.
It was just better if this was on their terms right now. The nurse seemed to understand. Sadly, it wasn’t the first time she’d had to watch parents grieve the loss of their child.
Allie sat back down on the bed and pulled Zoe into her arms as the midwife rolled the bassinet out of the room. Nothing had prepared them for this type of pain.
Nothing could have prepared them.
Zoe lay down and curled her knees to her chest, breaking down once more. Allie shifted so that she could lie behind her as best she could on the single-sized hospital bed. She pulled Zoe’s back against her chest and pressed a soft kiss into her hair.
There were no words. There was nothing that could be said to make things better. And she couldn’t tell her that everything would be alright. Because, really…she didn’t know if things would be alright ever again.
And so she did what she could…and she held her. She held her until Zoe finally fell into some semblance of sleep. Only when she was sure that Zoe wasn’t going to wake up did Allie even think about moving.
Knowing that she would just become restless and disturb Zoe, Allie carefully climbed from the bed and slipped out the door of the hospital room.
As soon as she opened the door, she heard a baby crying down the hall. She quickly lowered her eyes in an attempt to hide her pain. She hoped that the other new mother knew how very lucky she was. She hoped that she would never take those cries for granted.
But, Allie knew she would. Because that new mother was just like she was yesterday. She never thought that she could lose her child.
The only difference between them was the fact that that new mother hadn’t lost her child. She wouldn’t feel the blinding, crippling pain that Allie was feeling just then.
Even through her pain, she was happy for that new mother who was trying to soothe her newborn daughter.
She glanced at the nurse’s station and offered one of the midwives a weak smile. The midwife returned the gesture and even Allie could see the sympathy in her eyes. And then Allie took a deep breath and made her way down the hall towards the patients’ lounge.
There was a coffee machine in there. She just hoped she could grab her coffee and get back to the room before Zoe woke up. The last thing she wanted was for Zoe to wake up alone.
* * *
Later, she would have a vague memory of the midwife asking if she was okay.
She wouldn’t recall giving an answer.
* * *
Time had passed and not a day had gone by that their son hadn’t been mentioned in one way or another. Allie sighed heavily as her thoughts drifted to the events of the past few months.
She’d been told that the hardest days would be planning and attending Michael’s funeral. But, while those days were horrible…they hadn’t been the hardest ones. It was impossible for her to label any particular day as the hardest, but she knew that it wasn’t his funeral.
She knew that it wasn’t the hardest because she had a hard time remembering it. And you always remember the hardest things. But, when she thought back on that day, it all seemed like a dream. Like she was standing on the outside, looking through a frosted glass pane.
At first, it bothered her that she couldn’t remember it. But, then she realized that it was probably one of those blessings in disguise. In all honesty, who really wants to remember their child’s funeral in perfect detail? She wasn’t too concerned though…the funeral director had had it recorded. It was on a dvd, his name in blue letters on the label. It had never been played, but she knew where it was if she decided that she wanted to watch it.
She wasn’t ready to see it yet. And she really wasn’t sure if or when she’d ever be. But, she was okay with that, too.
Zoe and Allie had gone through his things not that long ago. They really didn’t have all that much, so everything they did have was more precious than they could describe. They had the memory box and the blanket that had been given to them by the hospital. They had the identification bracelet that had been on his thigh. They had his footprints and a handprint. They had his birth certificate. They had one hundred and seven pictures.
And they had his ashes.
But what mattered to her the most….what meant more to her than any tangible item that she could touch and feel…were her memories.
Her first thought when she saw him that very first time. The fear of holding him. That feeling of complete and utter amazement as she looked at him…really looked at him…and saw how perfect he was. How the soles of his feet felt like velvet…so smooth and soft. How the messages of love poured in from their friends and family.
Her memories meant the world to her. But, memories do tend to fade no matter how tightly you hold onto them.
So, one night when the house was quiet, she curled up on the couch in the living room with a spiral bound notebook, a pen, and a cup of hot coffee. She sat there and stared at the blank page of paper for what seemed like hours…not knowing what to write or how it would sound once it was written down.
She finished her coffee and finally put the pen to the paper. And she began to write.
She didn’t pay attention to what she was writing, whether there were punctuation errors, or whether the words were the perfect ones to use. She just wrote.
When she was finished, she looked at the clock and was surprised to see that she’d been writing nonstop for three hours…and she’d filled over half of the notebook. She gently placed the notebook on the couch cushion and got up. She wandered into the kitchen as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake Zoe.
She made another cup of coffee and walked into the hall. She leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom door and smiled as she watched Zoe sleep. She stood there for only a few minutes, worried that Zoe would wake up and wonder why she was being spied on as she slept.
Another sip of coffee and she pushed away from the door, deciding to head back into the living room. Just a few more minutes, she promised herself. Just long enough to read through what she had written.
She picked up the notebook from the couch and sat on the floor instead. She leaned back against the couch and bent her legs, resting the book across her thighs. Blowing a puff of air over the top of her coffee mug, she opened the cover and began to read.
* * *
Four months later, the notebook had been finished and Allie had started on another.
But this notebook wasn’t exactly a book of memories. This notebook was a book of stories. Children’s stories to be exact. Something she’d never thought about doing before.
She looked up and grinned when Zoe walked into the room, a bowl of popcorn in her hands.
"Hey…"
"What are you doing?" Zoe asked, amusement showing in her eyes.
Allie grinned and patted the couch cushion next to her. "Sit down and I’ll show you."
Zoe arched an eyebrow at her, but sat down anyway. She placed the bowl on her thighs and popped a piece of corn into her mouth.
"So, what are you up to?" She asked after chewing and swallowing.
Allie turned towards her, taking a deep breath and opening the notebook. "Thought I’d read to the baby…something I wrote, you know?"
Zoe smiled lovingly and moved closer to her. "What’s this one about?"
"In this one, Mikey’s going to be a big brother. It’s all about him meeting his little sibling."
Zoe chuckled and then leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Sibling? Is it a boy or a girl?"
Allie gave her girlfriend a bright smile and shrugged her shoulder before reaching over and gently rubbing Zoe’s abdomen. "Don’t know yet…the story isn’t really finished."
Zoe smiled back at her and nodded. "Okay…let’s hear it."
As Allie started to read, Zoe focused on her words. One of these days, she’d do her best to convince Allie to send her stories in to one of those publishers of children’s books. But, right now…she was more than happy to have them for themselves.
The stories had helped them both through their grief. The loss of their first child was the worst thing they’d ever gone through. But, they’d held on to one another and here they were…just a few weeks away from giving birth to their second child.
She knew that Allie had been worried about the memories of their son fading…and she knew that was the very reason Allie had started writing the stories. Zoe smiled as she reached the part of the story where Mikey was looking at the new baby.
Memories may fade somewhat…but a mother’s love never does. Neither Zoe nor Allie were the same people they were before they lost their son. But, they had adjusted over time…and learned how to be the people they are now. They had even learned to enjoy being the people they are now.
They were two loving mothers to two beautiful children. And just like Allie, Zoe couldn’t wait to tell their new baby about his or her big brother, Michael.
She glanced over at Michael’s picture, propped up where it had always been…behind and slightly to the right of his urn. She rubbed her abdomen, smiling as the baby kicked against her hand when Allie finished reading.
"Do you think this little one will look like Michael?"
Allie set the notebook to the side and leaned over to kiss Zoe’s cheek. "Well…they’re from the same batch, there’s a good chance he will."
Zoe rolled her eyes and met Allie’s gaze. "Or there’s a good chance she will?"
Allie laughed and stole a handful of Zoe’s popcorn.
They may not have been the same people they were before Michael was born, but the important things had stayed the same. And when Allie thought about how much she loved Zoe and their children, she realized something.
She realized that she much preferred the person she was now. Even though she had had to live through something no parent should ever have to, she was the person she was now because of Michael. And she wouldn’t trade loving Michael for anything in the world.
As Zoe looked over at Michael’s picture again and smiled, Allie smiled too.
She was pretty sure that Zoe might just feel the exact same way.
~ End
Ending Notes:
As you can imagine, this is a very personal fic to me. Thank you for reading.