(Side note: I wrote this a few days ago. Last night, I was re-reading some of my posts from the beginning of this year, when I was still pregnant. When I got to the post where I lost Iris, I could not read past the first paragraph. It hurt too much. I usually take comfort in my own writing, but not yesterday. So, ironically, it felt like the right time to post this one.) The Maternal Fetal Medicine department had to do the scan to confirm that Iris had no heartbeat.

I had a wait of nearly 45 minutes after my OBGYN could not find a heartbeat before the confirmation scan. 45 minutes. At least I was put in an exam room by myself and not in the waiting room. Ger was on his way, but had not arrived yet. I was alone.

I had already accepted that she was gone. My doctor told me that he was probably not wrong, though he wished that he was. During those 45 minutes I began to assemble my tribe. The deeper tragedy was that having just gone through this five months prior, I knew that I needed to do. Make sure someone could take care of the kids, pick them up from school and keep them overnight. Contact my family. Text my boss. Start telling friends. I was certain I would need the support.

So right before I received that awful confirmation – again – I surrounded myself with the people who care about me, even if it was only with the words of a text message and not physical presence. Here are just a few.