“There is no heartbeat”

I go to work. The smell of coffee in the staff room makes me dry wrench. I’m struggling to drink the litre of water you’re encouraged to drink before the dating ultrasound scan. My first patient cancels. I’m counting down the minutes until I head down the road to my appointment.

I arrive. At first I think the sonographer is really awkward. He barely speaks. Bri is two minutes late, trying to get a park. The sonographer waits. When Bri arrives, the sonographer spends a few moments with our baby visible on the screen. He turns to me.

“I have some bad news. There is no heartbeat. I’m so sorry.”

The words are crushing. It feels like a scene from a movie. Bri wraps himself around me. I hate that we’re all wearing masks. I can’t believe this is happening. The tears stream down my face.

“Are you sure?” I ask. He shows us our baby once more and prints out an image. I’m so grateful now that I have that keepsake of our time together.

And then I realise, I have to get my baby out. I cry even more. The sonographer calls my boss and my midwife. He’s kind and gentle and gives us a moment together.

Now what. I feel completely broken. We make our way home where I spend the rest of the day in bed.