She was left in the emergency room without really understanding what it meant. She was frightened that no one really cared to explain. It made her feel sad, the cab ride home made it even worse. The cabbie decided that the fastest way home was something that the fare could hold as a possibility and just a thought, or desire. She didn't feel well, that was a basic, she had been feeling this way since it happened.
"He didn't mean to" she thought to herself, the words spilling from her mouth without sound yet still fogging up the window of the taxi. Her forehead was beginning to press up against the glass. She was nauseous.
A few days later she found herself alone with her mother, "what did the doctor say?" she asked. Her wretched old voice haggard by the years of smoking. "Where?" she demanded. "Mom, they said I'll be fine, that I'll just need an exam." Her mother looked her over. There was more then just a bump there and they both knew it. "You haven't felt anything in over a week?" the mother asked, conscientiously. "Mom, I'll talk to you about it after the appointment!" she was worried about the outcome of the conversation. "Bill say's I'll be fine. And his best friend is an engineer and he's married to a nurse who say's this kinda thing happens all the time." she could tell after she said it that her mother didn't want to implicate herself, she watched as the old woman lit the third menthol cigarette since their conversation began.
Later that night she had a dream where she saw herself sleeping. She saw herself right laying there next to Bill. He's hardy, sleeping, he just got back from Texas when it happened. She had sent him out to pick up the propane tank for the BBQ. "You know I can't lift anything heavy right now baby?" she said. Of course he understood. He loved her, and she only wanted to make sure the steaks were going to have enough gas to broil them through to well done just the way he liked it. He left for the convenience store when it happened. It scared her then, and she did her best to forget about it up until the point she saw the face of the pediatrician.
"So we're looking for a heart beat?" the doctor asked with her eyes wide. She was crouched down listening, gently. There was nothing and they both knew what was next. "What did they tell you in the emergency room last week?" asked the doctor, more distantly then before. "They said that the baby had no heart beat." She knew it then, it was a fact.