We're All Moving Forward, No Time to Turn Back

A rare cold wave hit our city, and as someone who's always been sensitive to the chill, I was doubled over in pain. Daniel had promised he'd come home today, yet I stood in the biting wind, feeling like I was bleeding out, and he never showed.

After my D&C at the hospital, I saw a post from his junior, Ada: [Today we face the snow together; this life counts as growing old side by side.] I thought I'd be heartbroken, ready to cry and make a scene like before. Instead, I calmly typed, [Congratulations.] Congrats to them for getting what they wanted, and congrats to me for finally moving on.

As we parted, Daniel grabbed my hand, pleading for me to wait just a little longer. I said, "Let it go; I've waited long enough." I had waited so long that all the love and hate had faded away with the snow.

***

It was freezing outside.

I've been frail since childhood, and snowy days have always terrified me. Today was my birthday, and after weeks of overtime, Daniel promised he'd be home. He wanted to see me as soon as he walked in, so I dressed up and waited by the door. But in my rush, I forgot my keys.

I thought he'd be home soon, so I didn't worry at first. But after two hours of waiting and countless unanswered calls, I realized he wasn't coming. My hands and feet were freezing, and the pain in my stomach was getting worse.

After the twentieth call went unanswered, I felt a drop of blood fall onto the snow. I shivered and called for help. By the time I got to the hospital, the doctor told me I couldn't keep the baby. It hit me only when the cold instruments were inside me—I was pregnant.

A nurse scolded me, "How could you be so foolish? Waiting in the cold for two hours and not even realizing you're pregnant!" I was in so much pain I could hardly breathe, unsure how to respond. Was it silly? Was two hours really that long?

When I thought about it, I had been waiting for Daniel for ten years; it had become a part of me. The nurse asked me to stay for observation for half an hour. I opened my social media and saw Ada's new post: "Today we face the snow together; this life counts as growing old side by side."

In the snowy scene, Daniel's tall figure stood out. I thought I'd be devastated, ready to call him for an explanation. But strangely, my heart felt calm. As I thought of the blood, it felt like a part of me was leaking away. All my overwhelming love for Daniel seemed to flow out with this child, little by little.

I took a cab home alone.

The news of this child's loss hit me hard and fast. I had no energy to think; all I wanted was to brew some ginger soup to warm up and get some sleep.