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We lost the baby on a Tuesday. No name, no warning, just blood, and her crying in the bathroom, and me frozen in the hallway like a ******* coward. She called it nature. I called it punishment. Neither of us said the truth: we didn’t know what to do with all that grief, so we turned on each other. I held her after, but not the right way. She needed rage, I gave silence. She wanted me to scream with her, I whispered and checked my phone when I couldn’t take her breaking anymore. She said, “You didn’t care.” I did. But I didn’t know how to show it without falling apart too. And I thought I had to be the strong one. What ******** that was. We stopped talking. Started sleeping with our backs turned. Started looking at each other like strangers who shared a secret too painful to survive. And yeah, eventually she left. Packed her bags like she was cleaning up a mess we both made, but only she had to carry. We don’t speak now. I don’t blame her. I blame the silence, the shame, the ghost that never grew, but still haunts everything. I still think about them, the little one, and her. Both gone, both real, both things I couldn’t hold on to.
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Jun 9, 2025
Jun 9, 2025 at 4:21 PM UTC
What We Couldn't Carry
We lost the baby on a Tuesday. No name, no warning, just blood, and her crying in the bathroom, and me frozen in the hallway like a ******* coward. She called it nature. I called it punishment. Neither of us said the truth: we didn’t know what to do with all that grief, so we turned on each other. I held her after, but not the right way. She needed rage, I gave silence. She wanted me to scream with her, I whispered and checked my phone when I couldn’t take her breaking anymore. She said, “You didn’t care.” I did. But I didn’t know how to show it without falling apart too. And I thought I had to be the strong one. What ******** that was. We stopped talking. Started sleeping with our backs turned. Started looking at each other like strangers who shared a secret too painful to survive. And yeah, eventually she left. Packed her bags like she was cleaning up a mess we both made, but only she had to carry. We don’t speak now. I don’t blame her. I blame the silence, the shame, the ghost that never grew, but still haunts everything. I still think about them, the little one, and her. Both gone, both real, both things I couldn’t hold on to.
Its been a year now since my world fell appart.
joshua-michael
Written by
29/M/South Africa/Bangkok
Jun 9, 2025
Jun 9, 2025 at 4:21 PM UTC
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