The days dragged on, you barely spoke to anyone, barely slept, barely ate. You asked them to leave you alone and they did as you wished, even though it killed them. They wanted nothing more than to comfort you, to hold you, but you refused any contact. Depression had set in and bathing was a thing of the past. You spent most days in bed, not sleeping, but just lying there. Your thoughts occupied by your life so far and what could have been with the baby. Would anything really change? Would you have stopped risking your life and become a mother? The questions continued, day after day.
“You have to eat something.” John sat on the edge of the bed with a tray of food.
“Not hungry.” You responded monotoned.
“Please? Just one bite.” His hand outstretched to you, offering you half of a sandwic
