It was a very special day for me and my boyfriend—we were heading to our first prenatal appointment. We arrived full of dreams and plans, brimming with hope for this little one who was already so dear to us. We were envisioning a future that would be ours—a future filled with happiness.
Walking into the room filled me with joy; I felt right at home among all those beautiful baby bumps. We were all there with the same dream: a wonderful pregnancy and a healthy baby. Then my name was called—I was stressed, and my boyfriend was all nervous... All the preliminary tests went well; we received a ton of gifts and brochures describing the joy of having a baby—my boyfriend was already flipping through them, a smile on his face. For us, it was becoming more and more real…
Cervical exam… Everything is going very well: “Perfect,” says the doctor. February 13 is given as the expected due date. I feel a sense of wonder as I look at my boyfriend, my eyes full of stars and a smile on my lips… We’re over the moon. We move on to listening to the baby’s heartbeat, but the baby is too small to hear it yet. Still, everything is normal—we’ll hear it on August 28… Filling out paperwork and heading to the hospital for various tests. The doctor says he’s curious and that, to be sure of the dates, we’ll do a quick ultrasound “just to see”… Cold gel on my belly—it’s simple, but I’m savoring the moment because it’s magical… The baby doesn’t show up. No panic—he’s moving the probe around…
And there it is on the screen, our little one—I can’t believe how clearly we can make out its limbs. My boyfriend and I are speechless; we’re meeting our little poppy for the first time, filled with joy, our eyes brimming with tears…But suddenly the doctor seems worried; he tries again for some reason I don’t know… to us, everything looks normal—our baby is on the screen… Then the words: “This isn’t good news—the baby is too small and there’s no heartbeat…” The shock hits when I hear, in a daze, the words “missed miscarriage.”
The grief, the feeling of helplessness, the confusion, and the anger at having gone through all those procedures that had seemed so pointless to us—all of it washed over us. If everything had gone well, I wouldn’t have realized it: but when we left with my prescription and my next appointment, leaving all the gifts and brochures behind us, crying as we faced the compassionate eyes of those I was now jealous of, we told ourselves that the system was truly flawed.
Right now, the process is underway and the pain lingers within me, but I’m certain that we’ll get through this ordeal and that, on the next try, we’ll have a healthy baby. Until then, we’re going through the stages of grief, and I’m grateful to the people who are there for us—but especially to my boyfriend, who is simply an extraordinary person whom I love with all my heart...