Heartbeat

I am 10 minutes early.

After signing my name on the first available line, I sit and wait.

Deliberately I thumb through magazines, one after the other as families of four smile up at me from the glossy pages.

It’s finally my turn.

I am ushered to a dark room and asked to undress.

The image on the large screen above me is fuzzy, difficult to make out and yet somehow I know.

My hands begin to sweat and I am holding my breath.

“I’m sorry, there is no heartbeat.”

A sound I have never made before escapes my throat.


This post is for Write On Edge’s weekly writing assignment RemembRED. This week’s prompt: Conjure something. An object, a person, a feeling, a color, a season – whatever you like. But don’t tell me what it is, conjure it. 100 words or less. Constructive criticism is welcome.

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Comments

  1. says

    Oh Tonya, this is so well done, in that I am there with you. But I wish you wouldn’t have had to go through that.

    I am amazed at what can be said in 100 words.

  2. says

    You already know how much I adore this post. It’s honest and poignant and strong.

    (I am so, so very sorry this is real.)

    Much love to you friend, beautifully written.

    • Tonya says

      I am so grateful to you for being the first one to read this post. I worked on it a lot and your support and kindness mean the world. xoxo

  3. says

    My heart breaks. I am so sorry you experienced such sadness and loss. Thinking of you and sending you love. Such strength in sharing. Huge hugs.

  4. Sophie says

    So much joy and hope just vanishes in just a few seconds, leaving you feeling completely empty… Such an awful feeling. Sending you big, big, hugs, My Friend xoxo

    • Tonya says

      It was a roller coaster of a moment… Hard to believe that was in January. Here’s hoping I never hear those words again. Ever. Sending love to you today and always. xoxo

    • Tonya says

      Indeed. Hard to believe this scene occurred in January, it was far too easy to put myself right back in that ultrasound room. Sigh…

  5. says

    Oh my friend. Oh no. I had heard those words too, actually I had heard “there is nothing in your uterus” and that last line is exactly how I felt: that the grief I was about to feel was coming out of me in sounds that I didn’t recognize.

    It was a beautiful piece to describe an unimaginable moment.

    My love, hugs and hope are all with you today. XO

    • Tonya says

      I’m sorry for your loss too. It’s so hard. This was difficult to write, but I needed to, you know? This scene took place in January and even though it’s been months and months since then, I was able to conjure up the emotions as if it were yesterday. Strange how the memory works, isn’t it?

      Thank you for your kind words, Kir. xoxo

    • Tonya says

      Thank you. Everything was better than text book with Lucas that I just took all the good news for granted I suppose. I hope I never hear those words again.

  6. says

    oh honey.

    i felt the fear. and i heard the sound at the end. ive made that sound too. so much love to you for your bravery in letting us in to read this.

    • Tonya says

      Thank you, I appreciate you saying so. I was nervous about pushing *publish* on this one, but I’m glad I did.

    • Tonya says

      It’s been 10 months since the miscarriage, but in an instance I’m back in that ultrasound room. Thank you for your kind words.

  7. says

    What a terrible moment. I know all to well because the exact same thing happened twice. It was like the world had come crashing down around me.
    There is nothing that anyone can say or do to make it better either.
    Hugs.

    • Tonya says

      It’s so much more common than I ever thought. I’m sorry for losses too. This was #3 for us, but I’m hopeful that the next time will go smoother. :) All digits are crossed.

    • Tonya says

      Oh, it’s a scene I wouldn’t wish on anyone. One minute there’s life and the next there’s not. Sigh…

    • Tonya says

      It was difficult to write and there was a lot of editing and re-editing, but I’m pleased with it as much as I debated about sharing it or not. I’m glad I did.

  8. says

    beyond amazing what you can conjure in so few words. I am so very sorry for your loss – hoping that writing it here helps with the healing of such devastation in some small way, seeing how many others you connect with, who you touch with your poignant words. thank you for sharing this…it’s beautiful in a way that only “human emotional life experience” can be.

  9. says

    I’m so sorry. I was there too. Almost word for word. What a difficult thing to experience. I’m sorry you had to feel that pain. So, so sorry. Hugs to you. Big, long, silent, tight ones. Xo
    Talking about it was healing for me. I remember trying to figure out who I was after I heard those words. I thought I knew myself inside and out, but I didn’t. I didn’t have a clue. I’m here if you need to talk about it.

  10. says

    This was one of those posts that I love, but wish never had to be written. I’m so sorry for you. I know how frustrating and isolating and heartbreaking a miscarriage can be. I’ve never had one, but it seems like everyone close to me has experienced at least one. It can change you. Emotion aside, your post was excellent and the end left me with that “kick in the gut” feeling that I crave from personal pieces like this.

  11. says

    Oh Tonya. I felt this as much as I could (meaning you certainly conjured up the feeling). I have never experienced this particular form of loss. My heart goes out to you.

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