Lady Hadley had been noticeably missing from most of the birthday festivities and the Christmas preparations. For the past few days, the woman had been dealing with horrible stomach cramps and spotting that concerned her physician. She was instructed to rest as much as possible, so that meant she left her chambers less and less.
She was proud of herself for managing to get up and get dressed every single day. Her husband would stop in for a few hours, typically. They were still getting used to each other.
The morning after Water's birthday, she woke up in more pain than ever before. She felt truly awful.
The pain was excruciating. It rivalled anything she had ever felt before; but it was far too early for the pain that she'd heard other women speak about. She hadn't even had the quickening yet, it could not be time for the baby to arrive!
Glancing down, she dared to dip a hand beneath her skirts. . . blood. There was a lot of blood. It felt as if the floor was ripped out from under her and the room was spun around in the way that Zachrie was so fond of doing with marbles.
Her knees buckled, she hit the floor - the last thing she remembered before the world went dark was shouting for her husband.
When she came to, she was in her nightgown with a soft-spoken midwife talking to her. She had miscarried. It was too early to know if her child would have been born a boy or a girl, but the midwife said that was just as well. It wouldn't do to dwell on what could have been. She was instructed to rest before she was left alone.
Hadley didn't agree that it was best that she didn't know what her baby was. Hadley didn't think that anything could be for the best in this situation. She had never felt so strangely empty. She hadn't realized how much she could feel the little life inside of her until it was gone. She hadn't realized how much she loved her unborn child until the chance to keep them was taken from her.
On top of that, her marriage was now in jeopardy. She's not so naive as to think she was married out of love. No. Bartlet married her because she was pregnant and he needed more legitimate children. It wasn't a grand love story, no matter how fond he was of her.
She had failed him and their child.
She was so lost in the hell her mind created for her that she didn't hear the door open or her husband's approach. If she had, perhaps she would have tried to quieten her sobs. Maybe she would have tried to dry the tears that were flowing down her cheeks. Maybe she would have sat up and tried to give him a warm greeting in hopes that her demeanor and the ability to suffer with grace would convince him that she was still worth keeping around.
"They told me what happened," he said with an uncharacteristically soft voice.
"You can say it. They told you that I lost the baby."
Rolling over to look at her husband, she was surprised to see how soft he looked. How sad. There wasn't anger like she had been expecting.
Bartlet had no way of knowing how hard it was to answer that question. First, she had to decide if she wanted to lie or not. If she wanted to repeat the midwife's words and try to put on a brave front. If she wanted to tell the truth, how much truth? There were no words to describe the ache in her soul.
Hadley's answer inspired Bartlet to climb into the bed, tugging her into his side. She sighed softly, letting her head lay on her husband's shoulder as the tears continued to come. She thought that she would have run out by now.
"We will have more children," he said firmly. Maybe he was trying to convince himself. "These things happen. The Watcher works in mysterious ways."
Hadley didn't respond.
She had no words left.
