Content warning: This post deals with infant loss and may be triggering for some readers.
The silence in the room and on that ultrasound machine was deafening.
Three words which will forever haunt me broke that silence.
"There’s no heartbeat."
I was thirty-five weeks into my relatively textbook first pregnancy. I went to bed the previous night with my baby moving about and woke to nothing, knowing something had gone terribly wrong. Later that morning I gave birth to my 3.16kg strong and 44cm long beautiful son, Mason.
I walked through my house while pregnant picturing Mason in it, how his life would fill our entire home, a house full of love and laughter. I was in love with his room which was so ready for him to come home. I had pictured where his bouncer would be and where his play mat would go.