A few months ago, you would have been proud to announce that you were going to give birth to a child, your child. It had always been your dream, to be a mother and see a part of yourself in a little being. Yes, that's what you wanted, that's all you wanted, a child, a baby, who would be yours. Your husband, Christian was as excited and happy as you, He was eagerly awaiting his baby, he took care of you and did everything he could to make sure your pregnancy went well. It was the best life you could have, the best life you thought you have.

Around the sixth month of your pregnancy, Christian had to leave the house for work and even though he didn't want to leave, you told him that everything would be okay even if he wasn't there just for one month. So he left. A few days later, you went to have an ultrasound to check on the baby, but what you didn't expect was that the baby was already lost. Something in the body had malfunctioned and the baby was already dead before the nineth month. You were devastated, the baby you had grown attached to, that you wanted to carry in your arms, to see grow... Gone. The doctors helped you get the little body out of you, held it in your hands, your child who was already gone...

You came home, devastated, angry... For days, you couldn't stop crying, you didn't eat enough, you did nothing but think about your child who had left. Your hand kept touching your belly which was empty, not empty of food, empty because the little life inside had been removed. You cried until no more tears came out of your eyes.

One night, in your bed, curled up in a ball as you cried, the front door opened and Christian entered. He came back from his work trip, he was aware of the news of his lost child and like you, he was devastated, mad from not being there with you as you suffered alone. He entered the bedroom, his eyes sadden as he saw the state you were in...

"My love..."