Imagine

Imagine trying to desperately remember the last time your baby moved.
Imagine willing your baby to move, talking to her, playing her music.
Imagine racing to the emergency room with the fear that something terrible has happened to your baby.
Imagine being told that your baby no longer has a beating heart, but not knowing why.
Imagine being in the hospital, knowing that you are going to give birth to a baby that will never take its first breath, all the while hearing the first cries of other babies- live babies- just in the next room.
Imagine hearing a dad yell to his son, “Quick the baby is coming”, while being wheeled in a wheelchair through the labor and delivery ward after 12 hours of fruitless labor.
Imagine returning to your car with the new baby seat still installed in the back.
Imagine going to the hospital pregnant and coming home from the hospital empty-handed.
Imagine returning home full of dread and walking into the cold, empty nursery.
Imagine putting all of the newly assembled baby paraphernalia back into their boxes.
Imagine having a distended belly and feeling the kicks of a baby who is no longer in your womb.
Imagine your milk coming in, but having no baby to nourish.
I don’t have to imagine. This is my nightmare.