In the small, dark room of the Foetal Assessment Unit the ultra-sonographer shook her head. No heart beat. With pity in her eyes she informed me that the "foetus had demised" - yes those were the cold, clinical words that she used.
That was the moment I walked head first into the wall. And it hurt.
I had not seen it coming. I had looked forward to the check up - to say hi to my 2 munchkins. The wall would not be moved and I walked into it. Pain throbbed throughout my body. She measured some more, and also checked over Baby B to make sure there were no further concerns. My mind was numb. I was told that since Baby A was the same size as Baby B the heart must have stopped beating only in the last couple of days.
The ultra-sonographer had squeezed us into her busy schedule so couldn't spend much time with us. Too soon she was ushering us out of the room. I had to will my legs to move to take me out of the dark room. The light seemed to bright for me, too happy, too full of life. I wanted to stay in that small, dark space for a while longer. I didn't want to face the world. I could relate to the darkness - it made sense. The light didn't make sense.
Back in our gynae's office I couldn't grasp what I had been told. My body felt no different. There was no bleeding , there were no cramps in my womb. No physical sign of the death that was allegedly inside my womb. Surely, surely the ultra sound was wrong. How could it be that the baby's heart just stopped beating. It did not make sense, in fact it still doesn't. This whole weekend I have been struggling to understand it all...it is like my brain doesn't work. It is like I am grasping at smoke or a cloud, I can't take hold of it. I just can't let go of Baby A. It's like I can't even start grieving because in my heart I don't believe this Baby could be dead.
My heart is so confused that I can't even think about the Baby B - apparently now there is a threat of me going into labour in the next 6 weeks. It is just too much for me to contemplate.
The one joy in all of this has been our precious Matt. He has certainly been aware that something is not right with his mom and dad. On Thursday he started showing many more of his sensory stimulating movements, like head shaking and seemed to go a bit wild. We were a bit concerned how to cope with him and the whirlwhind of emotions. Yet today he surprised us over and over, he was calm and caring. His interactions with us were so therapeutic and he truly brought joy into our home. I thank God for Matt and the light he brings into our lives.
And I look to God to carry us through this storm.