Sturnluv

He quietly groans and shifts so his body is facing yours. As you look over, his eyes open up slowly, and he just takes you in. You have dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep and crying so much. Your hair is a tangled mess, and anytime you try to smile, it just never reaches your eyes.

“Morning,” Matt whispers, his voice low and raspy from days of crying with you and lack of sleep.

You try to smile, but Matt sees right through you. He squeezes your hand, grounding you. “Morning.”

He rubs his face and sits up, never letting go of your hand. His other hand reaches to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You want something to eat?” he asks, voice gentle.

You shrug, unable to name what you want. Lately, even small decisions feel impossible. “Maybe coffee?” you whisper.

Matt presses a kiss to your forehead. “Okay. Coffee it is.”

You nod and watch him quietly slip out of bed. He walks across the bedroom quietly and carefully. Like he’s afraid to disturb this rare moment of calmness.

You stare at the ceiling, lost in the memories. The excitement. The laughter, when you first told Matt you were pregnant—how he picked you up and spun you around, promising to be the best dad in the world. The moments spent picking out names, gently debating nursery colors, whispering dreams for your family. All those moments now sit in silence.

The loss was unexpected, hitting you like a curveball. Now both you and Matt were left with an emptiness, and thoughts of what if. Some days you feel it deep in your bones, it rattling you to the core. Other days you just are numb and manage to get by.

A few minutes later, Matt returns with a mug of coffee. He sets it gently on the nightstand, then climbs back into bed, wrapping his arm around you. You curl into his side, soaking up the warmth from someone you love.

“Here, baby,” he whispers. You take the cup and take small sips, and you realize he’s made it just the way you like. As you drink, Matt disappears into the bathroom and returns with your hairbrush. He settles beside you and begins to brush your hair, gentle and patient—a silent act of love.

You sit together listening to the rain outside as Matt carefully works through the tangles. Eventually, he breaks the silence.

“What do you think about going downstairs, maybe watching something? A movie or a show?”

You put the cup on the nightstand and look at him. You were surprised. TV or movies were the furthest thing from your mind. Thinking about going to the living room seemed absurd to you, like it was a whole other world away, a distant memory that you used to share.

“It can be whatever you want to watch,” he says quickly. “Or I could read something to you. I just think getting out of this room would be good for you. Us.”

You nod, considering it. The idea of leaving the safety of your room feels daunting, but you trust Matt. "Could you read to me?" you ask quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Matt smiles softly as he kisses your temple. “I will do anything you want, baby.”

You both get up out of the bed, and he walks over to grab your favorite book that you like to read. Matt takes your hand and leads you downstairs to the couch. Being in a different room is a weird feeling for you. You shut yourself off from the world for a long time after the loss. He doesn’t say anything, just gently sits next to you on the couch, puts an arm around you, and helps you cuddle into him. As he is reading to you, you let the words fill your mind, letting his soothing voice drift you off to sleep. While he is reading, his free hand is rubbing lazy circles into your shoulder, bringing comfort and love.

When you wake up, it’s dark out. Matt is watching TV with the sound off, so as not to disturb you. He looks down and smiles as he notices you are awake.

“Sleep well?” He whispers.

You nod, and he presses a soft kiss to your lips. When he turns back to the TV, he puts on your favorite show and turns the volume up so you can hear. He untangles himself from you and walks into the kitchen. When he comes back out, he’s holding a bowl of soup. You sit up and watch him place it on your lap.

“You need to eat something. Even just a few bites. Please,” Matt urges softly, his face filled with worry. The quiet tone in his voice tells you he’s scared, too, in his own way.

You know he is worried about you more than himself, and for that you will never understand. So instead of arguing, you pick the spoon up and start to take small sips of the soup. Matt watches as you eat all of the soup, and some form of happiness fills his face. He takes the bowl and puts it in the sink. When he comes back, you both resume how you were cuddling before you fell asleep, watching the show in silence.

That day was an easier day than most. The grief didn’t hit you out of nowhere like it does most of the time. Matt knows seeing or hearing anything about a baby can send you into a spiral, but even then he is right there worrying more about how you feel than his own feelings. He will just hold your hand and let you cry, yell, or even talk everything out without any interruptions.

As the weeks pass, you begin to find small glimpses of joy again. Matt makes your favorite breakfast, his burnt toast earning a real laugh from you. On slow morning walks, he points out the clouds and how they look like different animals, and you realize you’re smiling. He shows you the way sunlight turns the leaves gold, and in those moments, you remember what hope feels like.

There was one night when, after you both had dinner, Matt ran into the living room, leaving you confused. You got up to investigate, wondering why he ran out so quickly. As you made it to the living room, you froze in shock. He had built a fort out of the pillows and blankets. Inside, it held your favorite snacks, drinks, and a laptop with your favorite movie ready to be played.

“What is all of this?” you whisper, voice filled with emotion.

Matt shrugs, a bashful smile on his lips. “I wanted you to remember what it’s like to be happy,” he says quietly. “Just one night where it doesn’t hurt so much.”

Your eyes fill with tears. Matt is there in an instant, wrapping you in a tight hug. You feel him shake, just a little, and realize he’s been holding back, too.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I just thought—” he rambled before you cut him off.

“This is everything, Matt. Thank you.” You wipe your eyes, looking at him smiling.

He squeezes your hand and draws you into the fort. “Come on,” he says softly. “Let’s hide from the world—just us.”

Inside, the world fades away. You curl up together, the blue glow of the screen painting your faces. Matt pulls you between his legs, arms wrapped around you, chest pressed to your back. You whisper about the future—trips you’ll take, dreams you’re not ready to give up, and the love you share, wounded but still strong. For the first time in months, you believe him. You believe in you both.

Matt starts the movie, but you can’t really focus on it. Instead, you are here with your husband and thinking how the pain in your chest from losing the baby seems lighter lately. You know that it will never go away, and there will still be days when you are too sad to do anything. But Matt will always be there to bring you hope, to help you heal, and to love you endlessly. And that seems to be enough for right now.

m yaps: For anyone who has gone through this I am so sorry. I hope maybe this brings some comfort to you.

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