Hey guys, I really need yall to read this real quick. There are some major trigger warnings...

⚠️Trigger warnings ⚠️

Pregnancy, a women in labor (you), a child's death, not a lot but very very small arguement, you might cry, I did.

Not edited so please excuse misspellings and such. I'll continue writing "please don't say I love you" eventually... I kinda have been struggling lately to take care of myself so writing hasn't been on my to-do list lately. Thank you for your patience 🤠❤️

Thank you...

I held my wife's hands hand as she laid on the hospital bed in labor. She groaned and tossed her head back, her nails dug into my hand.

Despite this, she was handling the situation very well, better than me at least. I had barely stumbled out of the house and started the car when she reminded me to grab the hospital bag. So I had to run back inside grab the bag and run back to the car.

Now she lay wheezing in this stuffy hospital (had I been a god still she'd be in a much nicer, more comfortable place yet here we were.)
I cringed and looked at the nail marks in my hand.

"You're doing wonderful, love." I tried to encourage her.

"YOU'RE NOT GETTING ANY MORE BABIES FROM ME!" She screamed.
I sighed and caressed her hand,
"no more babies, I promise." I kissed her hand.

***

The room was filled with our newborn babies' wails. I look over and kiss my wife's face.
"You're so beautiful, you did so well." She sighed and gave me a weak smile.

The doctor laid the baby in (Y/n) 's arms. I've never been much of a fan of babies, gross slobbering things, but this baby was beautiful. Our beautiful baby girl...
My eyes teared up as I saw my two girls together. I watched (Y/n) smile at our baby, as I ran my hands through her hair...

***

I don't know what happened because it happened so quickly, the doctors came in and suddenly they were out with our baby. I don't what they said, but it wasn't good, my tears switched from happy to despair in a matter of seconds.

The next time I saw her she was hooked up to tubes. She wailed as the doctor stuck a needle into her, and my heart clenched.
(Y/n) rested her head on my shoulder. "Will she be okay?"

"I...don't know." I had a feeling she wasn't asking me but the room, I felt the need to answer anyway.
All my mind seemed to think of was 'Will she be okay?' 'When can we take her home?'

My questions were answered not long afterward... no, we did not get to take her home... no, she did not make it....

We sat in silence in the hospital parking lot for a moment before I turned the key, starting the engine. (Y/n) shifted in her seat and gazed out the window.

"Put your seatbelt on babe." I say softly. Without a word, she buckles herself in and I back out of the parking spot.

The ride home was uncomfortably silent, neither of us (or at least me) was able to open our mouths without bursting into a puddle of tears.

I was devastated. Over a baby I knew for only ten minutes.
I had changed a lot since becoming a mortal, but that didn't change how babies grossed me out. After having my own... and losing it. I understood a lot better of what it's like loving one. I adored every second of my baby, even if it had only been ten minutes.

I'd seen people die, yes, but a baby, something I would have overlooked as a god, had died. My baby—
I glanced over at (Y/n) who was still as quiet as a mouse, even quieter maybe.
Her baby, had died. A feeling worse than anything I felt before lingered on my heart, the weight of it pulling me down. I couldn't imagine how (Y/n) felt.

I reached over, my eyes never leaving the road, and rest my hand on her thigh.
"Are you okay?" I ask softly, breaking the uncomfortable silence. She nods.

I see as McDonald's coming up on the right. "Are you hungry?"
She shakes her head.

I took that as a sign to shut up. Which is something she often said, but she didn't need to say it to know she wasn't in the mood for talking. Understandably.

We drove in silence the rest of the way home. And as we got out of the car and into the house, we didn't say a word to each other. We didn't have to.

We stood awkwardly in the foyer, my eyes trained on her, hers on the ground.
"You should go lay down." Without a second of hesitation she followed with:
"I'm not tired."

"I know you're not, but you need rest."

"No," she glanced around. "I let the house become a reck during the past nine months, I need to do some cleaning."

"Cleaning can be done la..." she walks away before I can finish. I follow her into the laundry room where she started throwing laundry into the washing machine. Not removing the single red sock in the pile of while. I grimace but shake it off.
"Come, lay down, let me clean some." I say. She shakes her head and leave to another room. I sigh and follow her.

"Babe..."

"I'm not really in the mood for talking babe." She smiled at me, I thought I knew my wife pretty well, but she could have just convinced me she was actually fine with that smile. I knew she wasn't but I shut my mouth anyway, I wasn't going to push.

I watched as she moved from chore to chore, sweeping, washing the last few dishes, wiping down the counters.

My mind was blank, I couldn't think straight. I felt like I was loosing my grip on (Y/n). I wanted to tread lightly, I didn't want this to be the end of our relationship, but I also didn't want her bottling this up. What was I meant to do?

My head throbbed, it was an emotionally exhausting day, for (Y/n) I knew it was both emotionally and physically exhausting. I tried to keep her feeling in mind too, but I felt she wasn't concerned about mine. I didn't want to seem selfish, not after what she went through, but I was grieving too. I just wanted to help her.

"Babe." She doesn't answer.

"Love." Again, no answer.

"(Y/n)" she turns and looks at me.

"Sit down for a moment." I say, it came out more stern than I expected, but I hoped it work.

It did not. She stood and stared at me blankly.
"Please."
She turned away, but she didn't go back to cleaning.

"Sorry, but I can't let things get out of control again." She said.

"Let what get out of control?" I take a small step forwards.

"The house." She's still faced away from me. I had a feeling she wasn't actually talking about the house.

I step forward again. "You can't control everything."

"Yes..."

"No."

"I could have tried harder." I could faintly hear voice shake.

"You did the best you could." I'm now standing right behind her.

"How can I satisfy my husband living like this." She gestured to the house. (which was NOT dirty, I am amazing at cleaning if I do say so myself) again, she wasn't talking about the house.

I wrapped my arms around her waist from behind. "I am satisfied."

"No..."

"Yes"

"Why..." her voice wavered.

"Because you worked your hardest these past nine months... and you did it fantastically."

"I clearly didn't if the house is still a mess." (Y/n)s voice getting harder.

"It's not your fault the house is a mess." I say softly, I was still trying to tread lightly.

"I was fully capable of fixing the problem." Her voice getting more aggressive.

"It wasn't a problem you could fix." I say. "What happened, happened. And I'm sorry it did."

"But it was my fault." Her voice was harsh, but you could hear the pain.

I stayed silent for a moment... not a word came out of our mouths, not a sound but (Y/n)s heavy breathing.

"If it's going to be someone's fault, it'll be ours." I say. She didn't respond. "Because if there was a way to fix the messy house it would have been our job."

...silence...

"We're married, a team, That's how teams work." I say.
I hear a sniffle come from (Y/n). I give her a gentle squeeze.
"I'm sorry that.... That we couldn't clean things up a bit..."
She's silent for a moment.

"Me too..." her voice breaks into a sob. I nuzzle my face into the crook of her neck trying to suppress my tears, but failing. (Y/n) leaned her body forward onto the counter and hid her face in her arms. I let go of her and put a hand on her back, tracing circles.

She didn't stop crying for a long while and when she did she didn't move. We just stood in silence. A slightly more comfortable one.