My baby, small but scrappy in last week’s ultrasound, was silent in today’s. Its fierce little heart has stopped.
Once again, I am confounded by trajectories and deeply aware of how small and powerless I am.
And yet, impossibly, through the fits of tears and completely unexpected range of thoughts that have kept me awake tonight, I feel very much like I’ve been prepared for this. I had no idea that it was this I was being prepared for, but as I arrive here, it’s like someone walked this trail ahead of me leaving supplies, which I put in my pack as I went, not knowing what I would need them for. Yet at this moment, here they all are – that passage from the Psalms I’ve been weirdly drawn to for weeks, the sudden and odd (and guilt-inducing) emotional detachment from my pregnancy over the past few days, even my last post, which meant something totally different to me when I wrote it, now reads eerily like it was written for this moment. And this is the moment I need to get through. Just this one. And I am bewildered to find I am equipped for this moment.