Lil says...
All this time I wanted to share it, but I didn't know how. I notice that so much more happens than we think, because unfortunately there is still a bit of a taboo on it. I take you back to the summer of 2019, when after three months of feeling nauseous, I finally started to feel a bit better. I was three months pregnant and of course I took those ailments in stride, but man, I had some really rough days (including vacation). I am on my way with daddy cool to our second ultrasound. The first time was so magical, seeing the little heart beating, our future growing in my belly. Due on my mother's birthday, January 30, we wait for the ultrasound technician to call us in.
In hindsight, perhaps a bit naïve, I lie on the couch with my belly exposed, joking about the gender. With a slightly rounder belly and the screen in front of us, I see that the little one no longer looks like a peanut but suddenly has arms and legs. ‘Wow, it's really starting to become a little person,’ I say... I can see that it isn't moving, but I was foolish enough to first think that the screen had frozen or needed to ‘boot up’ for a moment. Until... The ultrasound technician looks at me with a look I will never forget. ’I'm so sorry, but the heart is no longer beating, guys...’
I look at my boyfriend. I see that he is getting emotional. But I am not. I clean my belly and stand up like a robot and ask her: ‘What's next?‘ ‘Let's go outside for a moment,’ says my boyfriend. We sit on a bench in front of the door. I look at my phone. A missed call from my father, a text from my grandmother, and a lot of sweet messages from friends who are eagerly waiting for a first ultrasound photo. I break into a hundred pieces. I've never felt so sad. This is heartbreak squared. My tears keep flowing. And suddenly, there stands a beautiful pregnant woman in front of me. She is wearing a boho-style dress and has some braids in her hair, it looks cool on her. ‘Sweetheart,’ she begins, ‘I just want to tell you that it will be okay, really. I've sat on this same bench nine times with buckets of tears. And now, now my little boy is coming any moment.’ She hugs me and then walks away. Nine times, nine...
Back on the bench. Together, but still so alone, I realize that I am not allowed to be the mother of this child. I am no longer pregnant. I have a terrible feeling of failure inside me. Completely unjustified of course, but it is my feeling. There is something in my belly that needs to come out, something I have tried so hard to care for, something I strangely already loved, something I fantasized about, something I would stroke with my hand over my belly a hundred times a day and even talked to when we were together. I try to stop my tears. The midwife calls us in to discuss the options for this missed abortion. I stand up and once seated at her desk, the robot in me is immediately back.
In the summer of 2019, I received the sad news of a missed abortion. After three months, it was seen at the second ultrasound that the heart unfortunately no longer beat. I will take you with me every Tuesday morning on Amayzine.com for the coming weeks to give this event in my life a better place, to make this subject less taboo but especially to give others in a similar situation the feeling that they are not alone. Because together we are so much stronger. And alone, you are not. I promise you that.
