The saddest sound
Feb. 6th, 2006 05:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ailbheToday I heard the saddest sound, queueing for paperwork at Ultrasound. A woman went into the room I had used to see my baby wriggling inside my womb. She was held by a midwife, and helped by a nurse, and her face was tracked with tears, and she shook. And then as I stood in the queue for the forms, I heard her crying.
I heard her crying.
I heard over and over and over and over a cry without words and without control, a cry that came from the depths of her soul. I knew - we all knew - you couldn't help knowing - her baby was dead. Her baby'd stopped growing. Her baby was gone. Her baby is gone. And the gone-ness will just go on, on and on, forever and ever, her baby is gone.
I heard her crying.
I cried myself. And so did the nurse at the filing shelf, and the admin assistant who booked me my next scan, and the midwife who waited, and the elderly man who I think was her father. The woman who came out saying "I must call Sean, where can I use a mobile phone?" I think was her mother.
I heard her crying.
I heard her crying.
I heard over and over and over and over a cry without words and without control, a cry that came from the depths of her soul. I knew - we all knew - you couldn't help knowing - her baby was dead. Her baby'd stopped growing. Her baby was gone. Her baby is gone. And the gone-ness will just go on, on and on, forever and ever, her baby is gone.
I heard her crying.
I cried myself. And so did the nurse at the filing shelf, and the admin assistant who booked me my next scan, and the midwife who waited, and the elderly man who I think was her father. The woman who came out saying "I must call Sean, where can I use a mobile phone?" I think was her mother.
I heard her crying.
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(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-06 09:17 pm (UTC)Three times my primary has been that woman. Three times I've held her as she cried and cried. Three times we've had to work through to pain, the anger, the sorrow. Three times we've had to find some sort of meaning again.
It's such a terrible thing to have happen. I feel for that woman, and I damn well feel that my own pain is still there.