Even if you suspect that there could be something wrong with your pregnancy, or even if you are the biggest worrier on the planet, I don’t think you can ever prepare yourself for the moment the doctor tells you the baby is gone.
My mom and I sat in the waiting area at the hospital for my ultrasound appointment. When the tech came to get me, I told to my mom to wait, that I could go on my own. As soon as I got up on the table and the tech put the probe on my stomach, I knew it was over. Her face literally deflated. She didn’t say anything but her expression said it all. She told me to wait there and left the room for a moment. It felt like an eternity, but a minute later she returned with one of the high-risk OBs that I remember from our time at the hospital when pregnant with our son. “I’m sorry I have some bad news,” he said. “It’s a miscarriage. The baby has died.”
This is the part that keeps replaying in my head when I close my eyes. Even though I knew it was coming before he entered the room, those words remain so clear. I don’t know exactly what I said at that point. I know that the tech went to get my mom and that they told me I would go see my OB, Dr. P. I called to D to tell him the news, but again, I can’t really remember the conversation.