a heart that’s full up like a landfill



In a sonographer’s rooms, J is with me, so is Mum.
The sonographer sweeps the transducer across my belly.
“Is this a planned pregnancy?”
“No, not really but wanted. Why?”
“I can see two babies’ heartbeats instead of one”
I burst into tears.
J roars with laughter.
In the operating theatre, on the table. Epidural administered, stomach bare, waiting.
J at my side, holding my hand.
first baby is delivered, red & crying. Wrapped & held, brought to my side.
The obstetrician’s voice floats in the air.
“Rebecca, I can’t find your second baby.”
Minutes tick by. A strange emptiness surrounds me.
His voice again.
“Rebecca, your second baby is not alive.”
The room begins to buzz.
(in my head – He’s joking. He’s got to be joking. This is a trick.)
“Rebecca, your second baby is not alive.”
Buzzing in my ears.
A gap.

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