No Heartbeat

No HeartbeatThose words I had heard before.  Those words I knew I might hear again.  No heartbeat.

Just over eight weeks pregnant and at my first prenatal appointment with only my sixteen month old son.  This last Thrusday was to be a busy day with doctor’s appointment, errands, picking up kids, and heading to the first night of Blissdom, a conference for bloggers.  My husband was taking off work early so that he could be with the kids while I went to the conference which is why he wasn’t at the doctor’s appointment with me.

So as I lay there with my baby screaming in the stroller on the floor beside me, I watched photos from the ultrasound being projected on the monitor.  Having done this so many times, I could tell right away that things did not look right.  I hoped that I was wrong.  The camera in my mind went instantly to how excited my husband’s face had been when we found out we were pregnant again.  “I’m okay,” I told myself.  I had to be okay.  My crying boy needed me.  I had so much to do.  I chose not to grieve.  I chose not to let myself feel.

My doctor confirmed what I already knew to be true from the ultrasound.  Though I had been carrying a child, it appeared there was no longer life.  I held myself together through the rest of the appointment, as I made phone calls, broke the news to my children, and got ready to go to Blissdom.  I didn’t have time to think, to feel.

It was a busy afternoon and evening of meeting so many people from the blogging world at the conference.  I didn’t tell people.  It didn’t seem appropriate.  It was late when I arrived home and I fell into bed.

The next morning I woke up early to make it back for the day’s sessions.  I was exhausted, but enjoying myself immensely.    Toward the end of the day I went to a photography session.  I relaxed in my chair after a full, tiring day ready to be entertained again.  Photos of newborn babes brought tears to my eyes, but I was fine.  And then the speaker flashed a photo of a NICU baby on the screen.  All I heard him say was that the baby was 1 and 1/2 pounds.  I wasn’t even thinking about myself or my situation.  I had pretty much blocked it out.  But at that point an involuntary sob heaved from my body.  It was out there before I knew it was coming.  With one hand I grabbed my things.  With the other I covered my mouth, and I ran from the room.  In the hallway I was thankful for a friend who comforted me as I sobbed uncontrollably.  You can’t always choose when to grieve.  I went home and spent the rest of the day with my family.

God has taken another baby home.  I really am okay.  It is still sad because life is precious, but I am content to remain a family of seven if that is the Lord’s will.

If you are a prayer warrior: I have another sonogram next Thursday to confirm that our baby is gone.  But please pray for me as continuing to carrying a baby that has died is tough.  I still feel pregnant.  I’m still nauseous.  So here again I am waiting for my body to miscarry, and Lord willing would really prefer that to surgery.  Thanks so much.

Important UpdateSigns of life at second ultrasound!



  1. says

    Oh sweetie, reading your words spoke to my heart. I lost a little one, in January after seeing numbers increase and climb. Instead of taking time to grieve the loss, I threw myself into activities happening around me and you’re right–sooner or later, the uncontrollable cry came. Time does help but it’s still hard at times. I’ll be thinking of you.

    I also wanted to let you know that your story resonated with other readers because yours made the top 3 most visited, so will be featured tomorrow, shared on FB, Twitter, and I’ll add it to my Pinterest Featured Board. Thanks for sharing your heart with us and for linking up.

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