Forever In My Heart — The Baby I Lost

the baby I lost

the baby I lost

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

About the Author

Shona Crampton is a small town girl living in the big city world. She is a child and youth counsellor, mother, wife and advocate for mental health. She has three college diplomas and a University degree; you could say that she loves education. Shona is a new blogger and hopes to shed light on issues that children and families face such as, pregnancy loss, grief, mental health, eating disorders, cyber-bullying and how to fit in some quality family time in our chaotic schedules.
Connect with Shona on Twitter and Facebook.

2 comments

  1. I’m sorry. Unfortunately, I’ve been in a similar situation. I went through two miscarriages before conceiving our son. Then due to a heart concern they found around 20 weeks I waited in a panic every visit thereafter to hear that heartbeat as reassurance that he was still doing okay in there. I’m not sure if this happened to you before or after you had your other children, but it definitely made the pregnancy that followed an anxious, nerve racking experience. Much love.

  2. I am so sorry. Reading this was like de ja vu for me since I had a very similar tragedy happen at 13 weeks. You’re never the same after something like a miscarriage. ((HUGS))

Comments are closed.

About The Author Shona Crampton

Shona is a small town girl living in the big city world. She is a child and youth counsellor, mother, wife and advocate for mental health.She has three college diplomas and a University degree; you could say that she loves education. She is a new blogger and hopes to shed light on issues that children and families face such as, pregnancy loss, grief, mental health, eating disorders, cyber-bullying and how to fit in some quality family time in our chaotic schedules.