“We had a promise made, four hands and then away”

I’ll never forget the gasp my love made, fingers squeezing as my own reciprocated in turn and the joyous, single laugh escaped from my own stunned lips.

A monochrome life watched over us from the monitor as we kissed, heartbeat thundering in pulses of black and white. Our baby.

Our unexpected baby, growing straight out of loss. The panic of ghost materials and ectopic nightmares washed away with an earth-shattering love for our daughter of less than a centimetre. Five weeks old and healthy in the safety of my soul-mate’s body. A sanctuary of nurture and warmth.

We began to prepare, to nest. I looked at cots and fielded questions from the youngest and oldest of our existing brood of three, brought together as family by our love, itself an entity born out of ruin.

Then came the bleeding, almost on the eve of our first official scan, and planned became emergency.

In the silence we knew, the love of my life and I, but we are professionally brave for others. It wasn’t until the still of the monochrome cut us with its slashes of mortality that we broke. Our baby had died.

Our baby died and there was nothing left but medical treatment.

For a short time we were separated in our grief. My brave everything facing a very real, physical pain of anguish, while my own heart broke in a different agony.

Because I’d already laid back on the sofa, tiny daughter asleep on my chest, little heart beating against mine.

But four hands became two once again and that life already lived became a starless night.

In the dark, as the tears fell, my soulmate and I found each other, fingers squeezing and reciprocating as we mourned our baby girl.

“And you, you knew the hand of the devil. And you, kept us awake with wolves’ teeth, sharing different heartbeats. We were in love.”

You can find my soulmate’s words here.

If you have been or are being affected by pregnancy loss please make sure you are supported. If you are struggling there are a great many organisations offering help and support. The Miscarriage Association and babyloss are good places to start. And, for all it’s worth, our hearts are with you too.

2 thoughts on “Heartbeats 

  1. God, I’m so, so sorry for your devastating loss. It bloody hurts, I know. A beautiful piece of writing of such a heartbreaking subject. Wishing you both strength and hope for this difficult time. Follow you on Twitter and am thankful for your insight into Brexit and Trump. You’ll be in my thoughts and prayers (not religious in any way, but…you never know) Piles of wishes that you both find some peace and calm in this awful situation.

    Like

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