“I want there to be a word for that moment right before you find out that your baby no longer has a heartbeat.
A word for the way it gets really quiet all of a sudden.
A word to describe the way you keep searching the ultrasound tech’s face as they try to avoid your gaze
I wish there was a word to explain the perceptible shift in the atmosphere.
A word to describe the way your head gets spinny and all you can hear is the hum of machinery and fluorescent lights.
I want there to be a word for the vulnerability you feel as you lay there just lying to yourself about what’s to come.
A word for the way your heart goes from fluttery to thudding in your ears.
A word for that feeling of dizzy panic and heavy grief that hit you at the same time.
