There Are No Shortcuts For Navigating the Grief of Miscarriage
Her View From Home, 07-20-2019 https://herviewfromh ... age-grief/
Not again, I pleaded. Please, God, not again!
I laid there on that cold examination table with my legs up on the stirrups, and my gut told me something was wrong. The resident’s silence was ominous. I closed my eyes and shook my head and steeled myself for what was to come. The resident sighed and turned to me.
“There’s no heartbeat,” he said. His tone was casual like he was informing me of the time.
My steel armor cracked and broke, and his words wounded me. I wanted to cry but could not. For a short instant, Denial came in and sat down. I asked to see the monitor. He turned the giant machine my way and, there, in the middle of a black background, there was a tiny but unmistakable grey-whitish human shape floating in a clear liquid. The eyes, hands, and feet were visible, and the tiny embryo had already assumed a fetal position. The resident zoomed in on his chest. No movement. No little flicker on the screen to indicate life. He wiped off the transducer, turned off the monitor, asked me to join him in his office and walked out of the room.