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Oh, whatever, like that man wanted to have a baby with her. He would probably rather not know if she got pregnant.
Yeah, but you should give him the chance, I think.
Well, too late now. She really could not get in touch with him. She’d never seen him before in her life, and she’d never seen his friend Erik or his wife. And, oh, well! Too late!
Fuck.
She felt ill.
She rolled over on her side.
I won’t be pregnant, anyway. This would be too easy.
Not that it had actually been very hard for her and Valdemar to get pregnant with all her miscarriages, though, right?
They’d never had timed sex. They’d never tried to get pregnant. But, it had just happened a whole bunch of times. And then they’d lost all the babies, and then they’d finally found out that it was Valdi’s fault, that he was a carrier for Noble’s disease.
And then…
Then Abigail.
She rolled over onto her back and her eyes stung.
Little Abigail, her sweet beautiful darling who’d suffered so much, who’d been in so much pain, and for a baby who was dying since the day she was born, the amount of time that she’dnotsobbed, that she’d stared around at her surroundings and been cheery and sweet… It was a miracle, really, that they’d had any of that.
But, mostly, mostly, the poor little girl just screamed in pain.
Nothing helped.
Hiljd was so tired. Nothingbuttired. Tired and heartbroken. Already heartbroken.
And she was so angry with Valdemar, because it was his diseased sperm that had caused this, and that was why their little girl was dying. She knew it wasn’t his fault, but some part of her blamed him, and he could tell.
Every night, taking turns, up with the poor little girl who was screaming as her body fell apart, walking her, rocking her, nursing her, holding her, sobbing…
Every few days, back to the doctor’s offices, trying things, all kinds of things, anything to help her.
Valdi still not getting it, and she knew he didn’t get it. Still thinking there was some miracle that would mean Abigail could survive. He had hope.
And her, nursing the child she was already grieving.
Fuck that man.
She rolled over, face in her pillow, and sobbed.
She’d had to divorce him after that. She couldn’t bearlookingat him. Shedespisedhim.
At the same time, she knew he couldn’t help it. Of course, he wanted there to be a miracle. Of course, he wanted Abigail to live. Of course, anyone would. She hadn’t let herself get swept up in it, though. She couldn’t afford that hope.
Maybe because she’d been through too much.
Valdemar didn’t know what it was like, the toll it had taken on her body, the miscarriages, the entire full-term pregnancy, then the delivery… and there was no time to recover, of course. She was just thrown into caring for a terminally ill infant immediately.
They didn’t want to let them take her home, but she convinced them. What did it matter if Abigail was dying, anyway? Why not let them all have some sweet, somewhat normal memories? Why not give Abigail whatever goodness they could give her?
Hiljd was so conflicted, that was the thing.
She was in love with her daughter. She’d never loved anything the way she loved that tiny little baby. She was in awe that Abigail had made it thus far. She wasn’t supposed to make it this far. All the doctors had said it was impossible. And then when it was becoming possible, they said she should terminate, and then when Abigail was born…
