Painful Lullaby

"I don't wanna go!" I protested. I was pouting in the passenger seat of Jag's car as he drove me to the doctor's office for my appointment.

"You have to go," Jag said.

"Why?" I whined, crossing my arms over my chest like a spoiled child.

"Well, we have to know how the baby is," he said. I sighed, knowing that he was right but I wasn't willing to admit it. I turned and looked out the window as Jag turned on the radio.

The ride was unbearably long. I've always hated going to the doctor. I don't know why, I just hated it. I always made myself sick from being so nervous about it. Right now, my hands were cold and sweaty and my heart was pounding hard. I could feel each beat. And my stomach felt like it was a blender.

After what felt like forever, Jag pulled into the parking lot. My hands were shaking like crazy now because I didn't know what to expect. Jag shut off the car and looked at me.

"Look, Roxie. It's all going to be okay, you hear me? They're not going to hurt you. You'll be fine," Jag said. It helped me calm my nerves enough to nod.

"Well, then, let's go," I choked out. My heart was still pounding, though. I fumbled with my seat belt, but got it open. Jag had opened the door and was waiting for me. I took his hand, and we walked into the hospital. It was small but there were about three people in the waiting room.

"Go sit down," Jag whispered to me, smiling at me. I sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs and waited. Jag went to tell them that we were here or something. I picked up one of the random magazines that were on the table. I grabbed something about animals and read that absently. Jag came and sat down next to me.

"Your appointment is coming up when they get room for you," he whispered, then looked at the magazine with me. I was reading about panda bears.

"Roxie Fischer?" Someone asked. I stood up, looking at a nurse who was standing in the doorway. She motioned for me to follow her, and I did. Jag also followed, holding my hand.

She led me down a hallway to a small room. There was a reclined chair thing with a regular chair next to it. I sat in the reclined one, and Jag sat next to me. The nurse pulled on some gloves and then lifted up my shirt to reveal my stomach.

"I'm going to do an ultrasound so that you can see how the baby looks and I can tell if it's developing properly," the nurse explained. She squirted some sort of gel on my stomach. She used this weird little thing to spread it around. As she moved it around, the screen next to the chair showed some static-looking shit. The nurse knitted her eyebrows together and moved the thing away from my stomach.

"I'll be right back," she said, then left the room. Jag squeezed my hand, trying to reassure me.

The nurse came in with a doctor, who checked the equipment and then did another ultrasound on me. Then they both left the room.

Eventually, the nurse came back in. She looked at me, and wiped the gel off of my stomach.

"Roxie, I'm afraid I have some back news," she started, "apparently, you've had a miscarriage."

I couldn't talk. I couldn't even think. But eventually, I gasped the word, "What?"

"You're no longer pregnant. You've miscarried. There are many factors that could've caused it. Your age is one, and any drug or alcohol consumption could also have caused it," she explained to me. Right then, I knew I'd fucked up. Big time. The times I'd drank, the pot. I knew it.

I tried to hold it back, but I burst into tears. Jag hugged me and told me it would be all right. I was too upset to say anything. I just sobbed into his shoulder.

I didn't know when it happened, but Jag had put me into the car. He was driving us home. I cried the whole way home and then cried myself to sleep that night.

__________

I woke up the next morning, and started crying automatically. We didn't go to school that day, and Jag kept getting texts. He cried with me for a while, but held himself together. Occasionally, he'd get up and go into the bathroom. I could hear him sniffling, and I knew he wasn't as strong as he was telling himself.

I didn't want to live anymore. I don't know why, but that baby became special to me. I was imagining what my life would be like with it. I could see us all, a big happy family. And I was crushed that I made such stupid mistakes. I heard Jag sit up a little bit.

"Why was I so stupid?" I asked him.

"You're not stupid, you just made mistakes. It happens to everyone," he said, then got up and went to the bathroom. My heart ached terribly, and I fell back asleep, into the pain.