When the world was more concrete again, I was stirred by the ambient sounds of a busy place and the gentle beep of machines. As my eyes opened and I moved my body to shift upwards, my arm was met with resistance.

Glancing down, a cannula had been inserted into my arm and connected to a bag of clear liquid.

It took me a few moments to finally realise where I was.

Though then the panic began. Where's dad?

Why am I here?

What happened?

Is it... gone?

My accelerating heart rate eventually triggered a machine, resulting in a nurse waltzing in to check on me. "Oh, good. You're up," she greeted before heading over to the machine to check the stats. She clicked a few buttons and turned to me. "You're okay. You're actually doing much better now. You're in the hospital." The nurse was an older woman with a kind face.

"Where's my dad?"

"You're in the adult unit, honey. Visitors are only welcome after 8am. He'll be back very soon. He didn't want to leave you; we had to force him out last night to get some sleep. Breakfast should be here any moment. Perhaps a shower would be good too? It will help time go faster. Let me know if you want to have a shower and I'll move your saline bag onto a portable stand."

Glancing down at my body, I noticed, firstly, I was not wearing my clothes. I was in foreign white garments that assumedly belonged to the hospital. But as I took stock of my body, I also realised how achy every part of me felt—especially my stomach. "Did... I have a surgery?" While the past day felt like a blur—the glimpses coming back in that moment of my father's worried face, of doctors and nurses around me—I could not recall any situation where I was wheeled into an operating room.

"No, love. Though you will probably feel very sore. Does it hurt? I can get you some pain relief."

"It's bearable," I sighed as I shifted up, feeling like I'd just run a marathon. "I feel stiff."

"Your uterus and stomach muscles had quite the workout. I'll let the doctor explain it all soon, but let me know if I can help in the meantime." She shifted my IV bag to a stand. "Are you right to shower yourself?"

"I... uh... yeah. I believe so." I glanced at the cannula. "Can I get this wet?"

"Don't put it directly under the water, but a few splashes are fine. If it seems drenched when you're out, press the nurse button and we can change it for a fresh one."

"Thank you." I looked around once more. "And where will I find a towel?"

"I'll get you one, love." She was gone only a moment

◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷

As I exited the bathroom from my shower—still donning the lovely hospital attire—my breakfast was waiting for me. And, at its sight, my stomach immediately growled. While the hot water had done well to work out some tension, I still felt stiff and fragile as I waddled my way back to my bed.

The moment I was back at my bed, I pulled my meal close to me and all but scoffed it down.

I was just about finishing up when my dad walked in.

"Em!" he exclaimed in relief as my heart finally relaxed at his familiar and comforting presence.

Though before I could acknowledge him, my eyes wandered down to the bag in his hands. "Please tell me you brought me clothes."

"I did. And some of your toiletries, your phone, a charger, your laptop—"

"You're the best, Dad." Though as the words exited my mouth, their truth sat more heavily in my heart in light of the past 24 hours, encouraging me to add, "The best," more sincerely.

"I know I am," he tried to lighten the mood as he came closer, setting the bag atop the bedside and staring at my empty tray. "What was on offer? Looks like you liked it."

"I was really hungry... but it was alright. Porridge. Bread. Vegemite. Coffee. Juice. A fruit cup." As we made casual chit chat, the unsaid lingered in the air, almost as if waiting on me to speak. "Dad I—"

Though cutting me off were the doctors entering the room, making their rounds. "Great to see you're up and alert, Emilia," one of them grinned as a couple younger ones hovered behind her.

I didn't know what to say back to that, so I shrugged.

"How are you feeling this morning?" she then asked.

"Sore."

"That's expected. But is it painful when you're not moving?"

"No. I'm fine when I'm sitting still."

"And how's your bleeding?"

"Like a normal period."

"That's good. You will still bleed for a bit, but it should be getting lighter, not heavier. Do you mind if I feel your tummy?"

I shook my head before laying down so that the doctor could examine me. She pushed and poked against my tender stomach, and I winced as my body groaned at the movement.

Though she concluded, "Your uterus feels fine. Almost back to original size and much firmer. Well—"

"Is it gone?" I cut her off.

She paused, glancing towards my father before looking back to me. "The pregnancy?"

I nodded.

"From our scans last night, it seems your body shed all the tissue by the time you reached us, though it's best to be sure by checking again once the bleeding has calmed down. When you leave, we will give you a referral to get another ultrasound done here so that we can check. It will be in about a week or two. Of course, the doctor discharging you will discuss all the things to look out for."

"And when will she leave?" dad enquired for me.

"I'd like to keep her here for a while longer to monitor her, but we will see how she's tracking. Either this afternoon or tomorrow morning hopefully."

"So... what happened to me last night?"

The doctor glanced once more at dad, to which he divulged, "I got here not long ago. Didn't have a chance to explain."

"I see. I guess you don't remember much then, Emilia?"

I shook my head. "It feels like a blur."

"That was probably the blood loss and dehydration."

"Blood loss?"

"Yes. You had a rare complication called uterine atony. Essentially, when the pregnancy detaches from the uterine wall and the pregnancy is expelled, the contractions should then start to clamp down on the exposed blood vessels where the fetus was attached to slow down the bleeding and eventually heal. However, for uterine atony the body doesn't do this, which means blood continues to come out. It can happen if a uterus gets tired, but based on the descriptions from your father, our assumption is you may likely be more predisposed to it due to some underlying condition you may have not been aware of. Sometimes pain medication can cause it, but paracetamol and ibuprofen shouldn't."

"But I felt cramps. And they were really painful."

"Your body most likely contracted as it expelled the tissue, then I'd say it probably 'got lazy' after that and the rest of the blood built up within you instead of coming out, which would have continued to cause the pain."

"... but I bled a lot."

"It can seem like a lot comes out, but it probably wasn't as much as what should have as much of it was retained within you."

I shook my head, unable to follow along with the science of it all. "So... what did you do to fix it? The nurse said I didn't have surgery."

"It was fairly simple, thankfully. We gave you a drug called oxytocin, which your body normally produces to create contractions, and that helped your body close up those vessels and push out the remaining blood. And our nurses performed uterine massages until the symptoms seemed to ease up, which basically helps the uterus push out the blood. No surgical intervention was needed to stabilise you. Though you did end up needing a blood transfusion as well."

"I see... But I'm better now?"

"It seems so. There's always a risk of infection, but your body is healing properly from what we can tell. We will keep you under observations for today and do follow up tests afterwards to be sure."

"... I was told the pill is low-risk." As the words exited my mouth, I looked to my dad in the hopes it would even start to explain any of my actions and inactions to him.

"It generally is. This type of complication is very, very rare. Unfortunately, you fall into the very small percentage that had a complication."

This time dad spoke. "If she ever needed to have an abortion again, would she go through this?"

"It depends on what caused it. But for medical or surgical abortions or even childbirth, Emilia is at higher risk for it regardless because this has happened before. If there was a medical cause for it that passes by the time she were to fall pregnant again, she might not... But that issue that caused it might exist next time. Regardless, she needs to follow up with her GP to investigate it. The best course of protection for now is birth control."

"I vomited a pill and forgot to take a follow up," I mumbled.

"Then one with a lower chance of failure like an IUD, injection, or implant might be better? You can discuss it with your GP or one of our doctors during discharge."

"I think I might just abstain from hereon," I muttered.

The doctor gave me a small smile, seeming glad that I was able to joke in some way about this. Though then she said, "Do take more care of yourself, Emilia. I will send notes to your GP about some follow up care. Whether in the next few weeks or down the line, it is something you should look into so that we can take additional measures to prevent this or lessen its impacts if you were to ever fall pregnant again. Have you ever been tested for anemia?"

I shook my head.

"Is that not something you tested last night?" dad then pressed.

"She most certainly was anemic after losing blood, which was why we did the transfusion. Though it would be worthwhile to test if she is normally anemic when her blood is back to normal or perhaps if it was an early condition of her pregnancy."

"I see..." Dad turned to me. "We better follow that up then?"

I shrugged. "If I never have kids, it won't be necessary..."

"Anemia can be an issue at any time. If you ever need a surgery, it would impact you then. You may have had symptoms of fatigue that you didn't think much of, but symptoms can get worse. Often treatments are just about changes in diet and including supplements like iron."

"Oh," I uttered.

"Do you have any more questions for me?"

I looked to dad first before glancing back at the doctor to shake my head.

"Let the nurses know if you have any more questions and myself or the doctor in the ward will come answer them."

"Thank you," I replied.

And then the team ushered out of the room, leaving my dad and I alone.

A few moments of silence passed, giving me a chance to process. I was the first to break the quiet. "I'm sorry, dad."

"What are you sorry for, kiddo?" he replied, brows furrowing. I couldn't tell if he was mad, sad, or disappointed. Maybe all.

So I said, "That you found me like that... That I didn't tell you."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't come to me."

"No... I just... I didn't want to disappoint you."

"The disappointment I have in myself for not being there for you while you went through that alone is greater than any disappointment I would have had at finding out you were pregnant."

"I just... I felt so..." A lump had risen in my throat and my eyes started to sting. "I was so confused... and ashamed... and alone."

"Oh, Em." Dad wrapped his arms around me. "You wouldn't have been alone if you told me."

"But you're not the one who should have to be there for me with that."

He was quiet for a moment, rubbing circles into my back as I breathed deep breaths to calm the storm that had brewed in me. Then he finally said, "Is that why you've been so anxious about reaching him?"

"Yes... and he wouldn't text back. Or answer my calls." My voice was unashamedly creaking and cracking in all the wrong places now.

"Maybe he's been away from his phone?"

"He's been reading my texts... I've gotten read receipts."

"Then... I have no excuses for him, Em."

"Nor do I..."

"... did you want me to try calling him?"

"I think... I'll try once more to call him. And if he doesn't... maybe it's time I just look at the obvious and admit it's over."

"Whatever you choose to do, I'll support you."

"Thanks, dad... Wait. Who's with Archie?"

"He went to a friend's house. They said they're happy to keep him until we're home."

"Is he... okay?"

"He's worried about you. But I didn't tell him what was going on. I should let him know you're fine though. He's been spamming me with texts asking for updates."

"Go call him while I... try to make my call."

"Righto. I'll be back in half an hour. Might duck over to the shops and grab a coffee... the instant coffee here is rubbish. Want anything?"

"What do they have?"

"Um... at this time, the bakery, Subway, and a cafe is all that's open."

"Can you get me a sub?"

"The regular pizza melt?"

"Yes please."

"Righto." He leaned down to peck me on the forehead. "I'll be right back. Call me if you need me."

I watched my dad leave the room, sitting quietly for a few moments before I dug my phone out of the bag my father brought. After plugging it in and turning it back on, I waited and watched my screen, hoping it would light up with missed notifications.

Though nothing came through.

No texts.

No missed calls.

He was still ghosting me.

Taking a deep breath, I opened my recent calls, selected his number, and dialled.

It rang this time.

And it rang.

And it rang.

And then the inevitable sounded in my ear: You've reached the message bank of...

I hung up and opened my texts instead, unable to speak the last thing I had to say.

Me: I hope you have a wonderful life, but I can't be part of it anymore. I've tried. But I can't. Sent at 8:52am.

Then I did what I knew I had to do. I clicked his contact, renamed him, then blocked his number.

After, I deleted our message history. I deactivated my Instagram. I deleted the app entirely. I uninstalled all other applications his accounts were logged in on or he was able to contact me on. Then I went to my files and started erasing the final remnants of us: the photos, the videos, and the songs.

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