Laying to Rest

She watched the candlelight flicker and twist and reshape by forces unseen, eyes glassy in its glow but no tears escaping to mar her cheeks. It was comforting to know she was heard, even in a small way, not sure yet if it was Ludo or some other force. The sudden weight on her shoulders, not unpleasant but surprising, made her stiffen momentarily, before she recognized it as an embrace of sorts and relaxed. These deities could exact terrible prices, she had seen it so, but that they also the capacity for such kindness was comforting. ”Thank you for coming, Ludo.” she said with a small smile when she heard their voice. She was a bit surprised, knowing she had given less than a good showing when they first met. It made their appearance all the more appreciated. But their question made her expression drop thoughtfully, brown eyes resting on the stuffed bunny on the alter. ”I don’t know what I believe anymore.” she whispered quietly. ”Not wholly anyways. But then…then I did believe there would be a soul to take to rest.” She wanted it to be so. She wanted to be grieving what was a person forming inside her, not just a squiggly circle that had yet to be assigned a soul. ”I only know that for some reason, a reason I perhaps cannot understand given my humanity, that they were not intended for this world long.” Whether something happened to the child within, whether it was actually her body not acting as it should, whether it was simply how much time they had been allotted by fate – all things she could not really answer, but the answers to which would not make her heart hurt less. ”I don’t know what they would have been or become either…it is part of why I grieve.” she said quietly, smiling just a little. ”A mother always hopes and imagines though. That they would have been healthy and strong, kind and empathetic, smart and confident…most mothers only ever want the very best for their children.” Most, she noted, because she knew not all mothers were the same. Some mothers were only mothers by pure technicality, not disposition. Other mothers were so because they carried out that role, without ever having brought a child to the world. She turned her head slightly towards the side she had heard Ludo’s voice from, as if to smile at them directly. ”I only have hopes, hopes for things I will never have...hopes for a person I will never know...hopes for a child I will never hold.” Because no child that came after would replace this one. No two children were the same. Whoever this child would have been was not comparable to whatever siblings might come after. She would never know this one. Never hold this one. Never see this one. "And even if they were none of those things I hoped they'd be, I would have loved them all the same...I will always love them all the same." Phoebe Be gentle to all and stern with yourself