Sunday, 13 June 2010

Heart. Beat.

Yesterday morning I woke up with some peace. I’m grateful for this because Friday did not start out well at all.

I took my mother to a hospital appointment at the hospital I was born in. They have a new annex and my mom was to meet her doctor in the Women’s Clinic. Ok, that really doesn’t mean anything, but I was still relieved to find just a few children in the office with their moms. I’ve been hanging out with kids since Tuesday, so I was solid about kids. Unfortunately, I was totally blindsided, not by a sight, but by a sound.

A heartbeat. A baby’s heartbeat.

Background: While I was pregnant, I absolutely loved hearing Isla’s hearbeat. I initially saw it during ultrasounds, then heard it during latter appointments. When I was admitted to the hospital, I would hear it about every four hours when my blood pressure and temperature were checked. It kept me strong and hopeful. It kills me that I’ll never hear hers again.

So yeah, hearing the sound of a heartbeat filling this small office sucked the air out of my lungs. At first, I was livid at my mother. “Why didn’t you tell me there’d be pregnant women here?” And I got up to leave and dissolved into sobs. I did not care who was looking at me or who was in my path, but I knew I couldn’t listen to that distinctive “whoosh-whoosh-whoosh” anymore. I stood crying in the stairwell while my poor mother kept telling met that she didn’t know, she didn’t know. I was crying so hard that she started crying too. I left to get some air and gain some perspective. Every breakdown that I have is one tiny step to a better place. Embrace it, feel it, and let it go. And that’s what I needed to get in front of the hospital while people went about their business.

I returned to the clinic after some time to keep my mom company and then I left to meet up with one of my BFFs. She took me out for a delicious lunch, we picked up one of her sons from daycare and ran errands. I also picked up my developed and retouched photos of Isla. And we talked about insignificant things and big things.

When my mother got home from work, we stayed up until 1:30a.m. talking about my feelings and how much I hate it when she tells me not to cry and that I’ll have another baby. We then talked about the future and out of that conversation, I felt a new idea forming. I slept on it and woke up feeling good about it.

Things have gradually started to become clearer over the last few days. Coming home has been good for me. I've had a lot of help over the last week, particulary from my mom, sister and my oldest friend. I'm definitely in a more positive place right now (for now). I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who reads this blog and comments and talks to me about what I’ve written. It comforts me more than I can say.


  1. Good for you. That talk with your Mom will be remembered for years to come, I'm sure.