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To the doctor who cared for me,

I had never met you until the day I walked into your office, and you calmly asked me to lie down for my scan.

For you, this was kind of routine. . . just another scan to confirm a baby had died in utero. For me it was far from routine, it was torture.

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I could hardly answer you as you gently enquired how I was doingmy ability to communicate had pretty much vanished over the previous 48 hours.

Tears just streamed down my face as I nodded yes to your question, to confirm I was OK.

I wasn’t.

I lied.

I was far from OK.

I was broken.

I did not even recognize myself when I looked in the mirror.

You smiled at me, the sort of smile that says I don’t believe it, but I won’t challenge your answer.

You then said, “Shall we just start the scan?”

I nodded yes.

As I stared at the screen, I held my breath. My faith was so strongI totally believed I might be about to witness a miracle. Yes, I had been told days before my daughter had died, but since then I had endlessly begged God to bring her back to life.

I watched the monitor for any sign of life, but my little girl was just . . . still.

She was no longer kicking and waving back at me as she had a mere six days ago.

Time stood still, as my mind became crammed with questions, all involving the words, why? and how? I could not ask any of them, thoughit was like I had been struck dumb.

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You carried on, recording measurements and entering information into the computer.

You thought I was silent, but I was screaming so loudly it deafened my ears.

A silent scream . . . a scream someone can only produce when their world has just imploded in front of their eyes. A scream so loud, so powerful it cannot be heard by human ears.

You could have given me platitudes like so many others had, but you didn’t.

You silently took my hand, looked into my eyes, and said, “My wife and I have lost three babies, too.” You then sat stroking my hand as I sobbed not only for the child we had lost but because you understood. You got it.

I knew you did not pity us, you empathized with us, and that meant your words were authentic and genuine.

You could have easily then slipped into an official doctor mode, but you didn’t. You took the time to explain things to us, being careful to avoid using common medical jargon.

You treated us like family, and I am not sure you are truly aware of what a gift that was.

We were aware of the fact you had another family waiting to see you, but you did not rush us, you allowed us time to sit and try to regain our composure before we exited the room.

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Thank you seems too small a word for helping us through that time, so instead, I will simply say without your help I don’t know what we would have done.

When you trained to be a doctor, I know you did so to help save lives. It would be easy to think the only way you can do that is by performing life-saving surgeries, but by offering us true compassion, you helped save usperhaps not from death, but from our hearts being even more broken as they lay shattered on your office floor.

Previously published on HuffPost UK

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

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Zoe Clark-Coates 

Zoe Clark-Coates BCAH is an award-winning charity CEO, business leader, author and TV show host. Following the loss of five babies, she co-founded the charity 'The Mariposa Trust' (widely known by the name of its primary division '') with her husband Andy, enabling her to use her training as a counselor, as well as her business expertise. As an innovative leader, she has steered the charity to become a leading support organization globally, providing vital support that reaches over 50,000 people each week. As a gifted communicator, she has earned the respect of politicians, the government, and many high profile celebrities and influencers. She has a TV show called Soul Tears where she interviews celebrities and people of note about their journeys through loss. She is also a trusted expert and media commentator for many other programs on BBC, ITV, and Channel 5. In 2018, she was appointed by the Sectary of State for Health as co-chair of the National Pregnancy Loss Review, this is the first government review ever conducted into the care and support provided to all people, who lose babies before 24-weeks gestation. Zoe's three books, Saying Goodbye, The Baby Loss Guide, and Beyond Goodbye are captivating and are essential reading for anyone who is grieving. Follow her on Instagram at @Zoeadelle and Facebook

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