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The sun is already up. The young mum pulls the curtains aside and opens the windows while cuddling her toddler. He smiles happily and wraps his arms around her neck gazing at the sunrise in the distance. Such warmth fills them both and they remain like that for many minutes.

“Today we are going to see your brother or sister,” the mum whispers in his ear while rubbing his small back. “Can you imagine, she continues smiling, in a couple of months you will be a big brother! You will teach her how to play with you, share your toys and hold her hand as she takes her first little steps.”

She looks at his golden hair, taking in his scent and with one hand caress the small bump she is carrying underneath her shirt. Her heart skips a beat and she says a little prayer, hoping for everything to be fine. Closes her eyes and dreams of little hands and feet, giggles and cries in the middle of the night, cuddles and joy. “So soon!” she tells herself.

Putting on a white, immaculate blouse she got the day before, fixing her hair to look her best when meeting the little one, just a little perfume since she heard it might harm the baby and tell her hubby she is ready.

“Did you take the coins for the picture?” she asks while putting on her shoes. She takes another look into her diary where she has glued a pic of the 6 week scan. If you look attentively you will see a small blob. “He had such a strong heartbeat!” she remembers. Puts the diary carefully into her handbag. Earlier they have scribbled some questions for the doctor since everything must go perfectly!

The sky is clear, a blue only days of spring can bring and white clouds that pass from time to time, slowly and sluggishly, pushed by the sweet warm breeze. A perfect, wonderful day! They practically skip on the way to the hospital on this beautiful day of March, forgetting that just a little while ago they were having a silly quarrel. Some things are a lot more important than others and for certain meeting with your unborn child is the most important thing there is.

11.50 a.m. Just on time! The proud father announces their arrival and they take a seat, impatiently. They joke around, they read brochures and plan on going on a shopping spree right after the scan. After all, that tummy needs some taking care of.

Her heart jumps when she is being called. A cold sweat passed through her body. Why? She shudders and chases away any bad feeling. The room is slightly lighten up, the doctor is nice, the table looks comfy. Her heart jumps knowing in just a few second she will hear the sound she has been longing to hear for 12 weeks now.

Hop on the table. The gel is not as cold as she was expecting it to be. The bladder is nearly full and the scan is a little uncomfortable. Does she seem to mind? She does not. The doctor is taking a little longer than she expected to say anything. She looks at her face to detect what’s going on. Mind goes blank, heart begins to race, cold sweat covers her back.

“Did you experience any sharp pains, bleeding of anything? Spotting?”

Eyes widen and cannot comprehend why these questions. Everything was find. She had a healthy diet, took Folic Acid, Magnesium and Calcium just to be safe, did just mild Pilates exercises and never experienced any discomfort, except nausea and dizziness, sore breasts and some cravings, all normal from what she read.

The doctor suggests emptying the bladder and trying a vaginal scan to see things better. Being used to the internal scan she agrees happily, knowing she will see more like this and runs to the bathroom while her husband remains behind covered in clothes and handbag, diary filled with hopes and dreams.

In the bathroom everything turns grim. “Why would the doctor ask those questions? Could something be wrong? There is no way! I never had any pain of any kind, my body is in great shape, I ate only healthy food and drank lots of liquids” she encourages herself while washing her hands and glancing in the mirror. “God, please let everything be fine, please!”

She runs back, wants to see her child as soon as possible. Enters the cabinet smiling, chasing away the unsettling thoughts. Undresses and awaits to hear the sweet sound of the heartbeat. “Will the doctor be able to tell me if it’s a girl or a boy?” It hurts but she bares it, it’s for the good of the baby. Turns at her hubby and asks if he can see anything. He cannot make out anything of the screen. Staring at a chart on the wall behind her she feels the equipment being retracted from her body. “Why didn’t the doctor say anything? Did she measure everything and now will tell us how the baby is doing? But she did not ask for the coins we brought for the picture…”

The room shrinks. The lights dim. Her ears cannot accept. Her heart stops. Her soul dies. She cannot talk or utter a single syllable. “What has just happened?! What did the doctor say?” She turns to her beloved, searches for his face and tries to make out what happened.

“I am very sorry but today we do not have good news for you. Your baby stopped growing at 8 weeks and 4 days according to the measurements. I am sorry but I cannot find a heartbeat.”

“What? No. No. No, it’s a mistake, right? I am fine, my baby is fine, what is she talking about? she shakes her head as wanting to wake up from a nightmare.

The doctor leaves. The cabinet looks huge; there is no air. She wants to tear off her blouse; she cannot breathe, it’s suffocating, she screams and cries and begs for everything to be just … just not real! Why her? Why her baby? What did she do wrong? Was it because she forgot to take the Folic Acid that one time? Was it because she was breastfeeding? Was it because of something she ate or drank? Was it because of the pills she was given for urinary infection? What was it? What did just happen? She shakes her head again, cannot think straight and falls in screams and sobs into her husbands arms.

Minutes later, in front of the hospital’s entrance she is crying her heart out leaning on a wall. People stare. She sees no one. She tries to understand. “…a missed miscarriage? What do you mean my baby died 4 weeks ago? I had nausea until 2 days ago, I am tired all the time and have to wee more frequently than I usually do. Why did he die? She was fine at my 6 week scan. I saw her heart beating, it was strong! What happened?!” The doctors look determined her not to say anything else but listen to the empty words.

“Around 1% of the women who suffer from an early miscarriage have what we call a missed miscarriage. It’s when the baby dies but the body fails to recognize it and continues to act as if everything is normal. You can choose to go home and wait for things to start naturally, we can give you a pill to speed things up or you can opt for a D&C.” Condolences followed and they were escorted to the door.

1%. She is the one percent… I am that one percent! I looked at the bright blue sky. How can it look so beautiful while my heart was broken into pieces? Maybe, just maybe the doctor is wrong. After all, I had no symptoms of miscarrying. And I know, I read, I researched, I did everything right, didn’t I?

Maybe, just maybe, my baby is fine. I am sure she is fine.

It’s been 4 days since the 13th of March, 2014. For me an eternity passed. I am still waiting, still hoping for a miracle, for the impossible to happen. I have nightmares and wake up sweating, feeling my small bump and caressing it just before realizing … he’s gone!

I will never see those small feet and hands, I will never smell his hair, see her eyes, hug her, hold her tight and love her. My heart aches and calls for my baby. I find myself wanting to continue taking my pregnancy vitamins and gently touching my tummy in the shower. My heart breaks over and over and over again while my eyes do not dry. I fail to understand, to accept, to stop praying for a miracle, asking God for the impossible.

My toddler wants to hug me and I cannot. I look at him and see the one I will not see. The one that went to heaven before I had the change to feel his little kicks, hear her giggle, put her on my chest and snuggle.

Sometimes I feel a small cramp and my thoughts go out to him, hoping he is fine. Then, in an instant, I know I pray for nothing. There is already no life inside me, no little bump growing into our child. Nothing. It does not seem real. With all the tears and the heartaches and the reality that hits so hard, still I pray this is not happening to me; after all, I still feel pregnant.

She was with me at every step, she lived with my warmth and my heartbeats lulling her as she grew stronger and stronger… until no more. Until nothingness and the silence of a shattering soul. I don’t want to be saying this, I fight it with all my being, oh my loved one, part of my soul… Goodbye, my beloved. I am sorry I did not get to see you, I am sorry I did not take better care of you. I pray you are happy, smiling down on us from heaven and know how much you are missed and loved. One day I pray to see your face and give you all the love I cannot surround you with now.

Goodbye, my baby!