Forever In My Heart — The Baby I Lost
By: Shona Crampton | Date: July 27 2016
My eyes opened slowly and gently as rays from the sun peaked through the curtains and fell on my pillow. I looked down, kissed my hand and placed it softly on my belly and whispered “I love you.”
The smell of my husband’s breakfast caused my stomach contents to flutter in my stomach as I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom to vomit. Who gets morning sickness in the second trimester?
I arrived at the doctor’s office like in previous visits, and anxiously awaited for him to warm the gel. Dr. Barnet oozed the chilling ultrasound gel on my belly. “Let’s hear your babies heart beat, and see if you are having a boy or girl.” His voice exposed the same happiness and enthusiasm that I was feeling.
Suddenly my heart began to race as I waited and waited to hear the sweet sound that mimicked the sound of galloping horses. I heard that magnificent sound last visit, why not now? Just as rapidly as my heart sped, my heart came to a halt. The sound of the heartbeat was not present. I could not hear the sound of the heartbeat.
Tears started to form puddles in my eyes as I gently rubbed my belly. “Come on baby? Wake up, please wake up,” I pleaded to my baby, but there was only silence.
“We are going to go to another ultra sound room.” Dr. Barnet said as he took me by the hand and led me to another room. “This machine is more advanced, so we will be able to hear the heart more clearly.”
I walked out of his office and down the hall in a daze, ignoring the stares of other patients. I entered the room and stared at the bed and then stared at the machine. A part of me was reluctant to even set foot into the room. I took a deep breath and shuffled toward the bed. I sat on the bed but my legs became as heavy as concrete, they wouldn’t leave the ground, so I lifted each leg up on to the bed individually. I hugged my belly tight while the corner of my eyes unlatched the flood gates and tears flowed down my face as they washed away any evidence of happiness.
I waited again, and held my breath, daring not breathe so that I could hear the sound of my baby’s heart. I turned my head away from the ultra sound machine and avoided the doctor’s eyes. I knew what he was going to say but I didn’t want to hear it. He gently clasped my hand in his and softly spoke, “I am so sorry…” Dr. Barnet continued speaking but I could only hear silence. Silence that echoed through the room, absolute silence as I yearned for noise, I yearned to hear the sound of waves crashing over the speakers.
I waited in the lobby for my husband to come pick me up…more waiting. I collided into his arms, smacking into his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I sobbed into his chest.
“It’s not your fault,” he whispered clearly but softly in my ear. I could hear in his voice, he was crying too. We stayed in the long sterile hallway as strangers respectfully passed by. He gently kissed the top of my head as he took me by the hand and guided me to our car.
I stared blankly out the window on the way home in a catatonic state watching as the world seemed to continue on while my heart was breaking. How was the world able to continue on? How dare people be happy, not today.
This piece originally appeared on Her View From Home