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My heart is broken.

Fragmented.

Crushed.

The love of my life is gone, yet I take solace in the fact that a part of him is growing inside of me. Still, I feel like I’m short of breath at times as I struggle to accept reality. I knew what I signed up for. I accepted it.

Does it make it any easier?

Not at all. I feel like I’ve died, too. A part of me is gone.

“Autumn,” Riley says, sitting on the bed next to me.

I’m at her place. I haven’t been home since Judah died. It’s been a month and my tears have yet to dry up.

“Autumn, I brought you some soup.”

I don’t want to eat, but I know I have to for my baby. I sit up slowly. Tears roll out of my eyes involuntarily.

“I’m worried about you,” Riley says. “The whole family is. Your phone has been buzzing nonstop. His parents, your parents, y’alls friends…I know it hurts, Autumn, but these people are in your corner. They want to comfort you. They need to know that you’re okay.”

“That’s the thing,” I say, wiping my eyes. My voice is hoarse and low. “I’m not okay, Riley.”

“And that’s fine, too. Tell them that. You don’t have to try and hide what you’re feeling. You’re not grieving alone. They’re grieving, too.”

I sniffle. “It’s been four weeks. It feels like it just happened yesterday.” I wipe the tears that have streaked down my face and continue, “I don’t know what to say to anyone.”

“Say what you feel.”

I stir the soup and say, “I feel lost. Who am I supposed to be without Judah?”

“You’ll be you. You’re the mother of his son. Little baby Judah, and right now, I can tell you that baby is hungry, so eat, mama. You’re not supposed to lose weight during pregnancy. You’ve lost five pounds.”

I sniffle again. “I don’t want anything to happen to my baby.”

Riley takes the soup bowl from my shaky hands and says, “I know you’re going through it. I know. I don’t know how it feels, but I have an idea. All I ask is that you try to wake up every day and be thankful for the time you got to spend with him and the gift he’s given you.”

She takes my hand, places it on my stomach, and says, “He’s given you that little boy, and that little boy needs nutrients to grow.” She takes a Kleenex, wipes the tears from my face, and says, “Now, eat.”

“Okay.”

I take one spoonful. It feels like a huge step, but the more I eat, the more my baby wants. So I eat. I eat to nourish my body so I can get through the grieving process. I eat so my baby grows healthy and strong. In about three weeks, he’ll be here.

“You made this soup?” I ask Riley.

“Sure did. Don’t sleep on my skills. I may not know how to do a lot of things in the kitchen, but ya girl gon’ make a soup every time.”

I giggle and continue eating. I say, “I knew this was a possibility, Riley. I knew Judah had cancer, yet I wanted to love him, anyway.”

“You did.”

“I have no regrets,” I tell her, because I don’t. If I could do it all over again, I’d choose Judah every time. The short time I had with him was the best I’ve ever had.

I continue, “I’ll never regret my decision to be with him. I’m just sad.”

“Are you sad to the point where you think you need to see a doctor or talk to a professional?”

“No. I think I can handle it.”

“I think you can, too, Autumn, but only if you lean on the family for support. Don’t shut them out.”

“You’re right. I think I should try to go home tomorrow, and before you ask, no, I’m not ready for it, but it has to be done, right? It’s our home. I’ll feel more connected to him there.”

“I mean, I’m down to come with you.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Autumn, you haven’t been there in a month. It’s going to be difficult.”

“I know. A lot of things in my life will be difficult for the foreseeable future, but I have to get through them for my baby’s sake.”

“Well, you know I’m down to support you in everything, so if you get there and you need me to come stay with you or anything, just call me.”

“I appreciate that, Riley. Thank you. I honestly don’t know how I would get through this without you.”

“Of course. You’re my best friend. I wouldn’t dare let you go through this alone. I love you, girl.”

“I love you, too.”

“And I love you too, little peanut,” she says, placing a hand on my stomach. Then she embraces me and tells me that she won’t let me leave the house until I’ve eaten all of the soup.