Even now words fail me. I usually say "miscarriage", but it was in some ways much worse than that.
I wasn't thinking & I went alone.
At first the technician screen turned to me, sound on so I could hear the reassuring beat of your heart. Oh, the joy I felt hearing that sweet sound. The relief. Then she turned the monitor away when the picture showed a lack of amniotic fluid. As the bitter reality of what those words meant enveloped me, I still clung on to the sound of your heart, beating clearly. After long minutes the tech turned the sound off.
That morning, July 16th, was your 13 week mark. And there was no change. The medicines hadn't worked, I would have to leave the hospital to go to a private clinic.
I'm not even sure if I was awake. I was mentally numb.