I was six months in and he was active, until one day he wasn’t.

,For me, pregnancy was lonely. I have been pregnant, dismissed and single and pregnant while married, both were equally lonely experiences. It feels as if no one understands.

I was six months in and he (my son) was active, until one day he wasn’t.

I was waiting tables in the afternoon and noticed that I had not felt him move. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt him respond to anything.

Being that this was my first pregnancy, I panicked. I called my best friend who had no sort of medical experience whatsoever, which in hindsight, tells me I didn’t want to know the truth.

I explained that I had not felt him move and I was concerned. He assured me that I was just worried for no reason and to relax since I already had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for the next day.

All this time my pregnancy was on a need-to-know basis.

I did not mention to any of my coworkers that I was pregnant, but that morning during the lunch shift, a coworker publicly guessed the secret I was sure I hid so well.

Honestly, I can’t remember the conversation or even how I felt about it because I experienced more important emotions that day.

I took off work early.

The plan was to work the lunch shift, make my doctor’s appointment, and then return that evening for dinner.

I didn’t go back for four years.

My doctor was family.

She was part of my village. Growing up performing alongside her daughter, there were times where she chaperoned me. She’d seen me act like a little brat and yet, still watched over me as we toured different parts of the country performing.

Initially when it was revealed to me that she would be my OB/GYN, she gave me the option of requesting another doctor, given we had history. Refusing the option thus far has been one of the best choices I have ever made for my children.

My appointment was scheduled as a routine, but it was timely. I was calm and told her about the conversation I had with my friend the previous day. She used her stethoscope and listened for the heartbeat.

Nothing.

She ordered an ultrasound. Asked me if I wanted anyone there before the examination. I called “him”. I waited for him. He arrived. All was confirmed.

 Since I was six months pregnant, I had a decision to make. I could wait and hope that my body realized that my son was dead and go into labor on its own, or two; induce labor and give… death.

She told me that I did not have to make the decision today and that I could wait and think about it.

Hope for the best…

I wondered why and how this was happening to me.

I sat in the parking lot and cried from a place I had never cried from before; the pit of my soul. I wondered why and how this was happening to me. I didn’t go anywhere. I didn’t do anything. I went to work, school, his place, and home. I minded my business. I had very few friends at the time trying to keep what was happening in my life as close to my chest as possible. I knew people who smoked during their pregnancy, but yet I was losing my child.

My opportunity to raise my first child.

I could have delivered that day.

Given our history, and the character of her heart, I know she loved me. Yet I hoped that if I prayed hard enough that my son would come back. He would kick me. His heart would start beating again. I wanted to give him that opportunity to come back where I felt he belonged.