The jelly felt warm on my tummy. This surprised me. It’s normally so cold. I was about to tell the ultrasound tech this but she was beginning to spread the jelly with the wand and I held my breath. With a simple move she was turned and the screen was coming to life. I was so thankful that she did not turn the screen away from me to start like they normally do. I was already grieving and she knew it...there was nothing that needed to be kept from me. My breath caught in my throat as the most delicate sweet little hand caught my eye. It was reaching up to heaven. In my mind I reached down and held her sweet hand. My thumb rubbed the inside of her palm. I heard the ultrasound tech begin by exclaiming how perfect my baby was, after all her size was right on, and I waited, still admiring my baby’s beautiful hand, for her to realize what I already knew. No 12 week baby has a hand floating in the water above her head. The u.t. stopped mid sentence. She zoomed in on my baby’s chest. Our eyes met. I smiled weakly at her. “There’s no heartbeat is there?” I turned my eyes back to my baby as her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t understand, this baby is so big, I thought...” I saw my baby’s face for the first time. That sweet nose, turned up just the slightest bit. “Sweet baby. My sweet baby. You’re so beautiful.” I reached for the screen. Her little hand was still reaching up to me. “My precious baby.”

I looked at the u.t. “I’m sorry, I’m OK.” She looked at me. “Sweetheart, this baby just died...maybe two days ago. It just doesn’t make sense.” We both looked back to the baby. Time stood still. It was just me and my baby. I don’t remember the screen going dark. I asked her if I could call my husband and she left. My husband’s voice filled my phone, “Hey” I said. “Our baby is gone. Our baby is dead.” I was sobbing. His voice was broken. He was making his way into the hospital. We went back and forth, he tried to offer words of comfort while we both broke. We got off after I instructed him how to find me. I began by sending out a text to all my family and friends. “We just found out that our baby has gone home to be with Jesus. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” Within seconds my phone was beeping responses and ringing. I spoke to my sister. As I got off the door opened and the u.t. moved aside for my husband to enter. She left us. I was on my feet and his arms took me in. My weeping made no sound but turned my soul inside out. His arms were strong but weak. We broke together. Finally he asked if he could pray. I don’t remember the words he prayed. We prayed tears. We prayed brokenness. We cried for sin and its effects. Our one flesh had met the wages of sin, but it’s toll was on our dear child. The u.t came back in the room. She looked at us hugging, cleared her throat and said, “I, um, need to take more pictures.” I thought, “No you don’t , you took 500!” Then her eyes met mine and I melted. She was trying to give us a gift, one more chance to see our baby together and my husband’s first chance. I climbed back on the table and he took my hand. I could feel his prayer even though his lips weren’t moving. Raise our baby, Lord. I let him pray but I could not join him. Our baby was gone. I looked on the screen to where I would see her floating hand and it met my eyes. “Sweet baby.” I held her hand. We were three silent observers to the tiniest miracle of God. Time stood still as we all sat in awe. 

My husband was behind me with one hand on each of my shoulders moving me through the hospital corridors. I wept and could not see the floor beneath me. I told the lady at reception that our baby was dead. I’m not sure why. Some how we made it back to the parking garage and prepared to head home to face our other children and tell them that Mommy and Daddy could not protect their tiny baby sister...that she was dead.