Trigger Warning - Miscarriage.

 

This photo popped up on my IG feed and triggered a core memory. One I wish I didn’t have to relive when my eyes close. 

Something I would never wish on my worst enemy. 

Let me set the stage for you. 3 weeks into quarantine and RONA 2020. No one was allowed to come with me to my appointments or ultrasounds. I walked into a empty lobby - maskless and alone. 

No one uttered those words to me. But I knew what a 12 week old baby in the womb looked like. 

And my baby didn’t look like they should. 

The tech cut the ultrasound short and told me “I’m going to send the results over to the doctor and they’ll be here in a minute.” 

For a minute I was in purse disbelief. I was shaken. On FaceTime with my husband. Him asking “is everything ok?” “What’s going one?” On repeat. 

I was holding my breath. For a moment I had all the hope that my baby wasn’t gone. But in my head I knew. 

The tech said she would go get the doctor while I cleaned up.

 

The next few minutes - maybe it was even an hour? - were a complete blur. 

I went to the bathroom and texted a few close friends. They called me...I think. 

Dylan said he would come pick me up. I had driven alone. He had been working from home, watching our daughter and building a pergola with his dad. 

The tech came back in. No doctor in sight, but she was on the phone. I begged them to let my husband come in and be with me and they said no. No explanation. Just a “NO”. 

I called Dylan back and the doctor began to explain my options. Still in disbelief, I couldn’t comprehend what the doctor was saying. 

They left and I laid back on the table waiting for Dylan and my friend to arrive to pick me up. 

To each and everyone of you experiencing infertility, a miscarriage or stillbirth - my heart aches for you. I am here to listen or cry with you.