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The outright gore of it convinced me the pregnancy had ended. I tried to cancel my ultrasound but the doctor convinced me otherwise. Just to check, you know. A mix of horror and wonder filled me at that appointment, as though I was watching a nature documentary play out on the flat ultrasound screen. My womb had grown but it was crumbling down, as though its poor construction was finally catching up with it, teetering on the edge of destruction. Fervent cells vibrated and lashed against the defenses of my uterine walls, visibly pounding it into inevitable disintegration. Maybe they believed they were tasked with a mission, to search beyond the ramparts for the baby that, unbeknownst to them, still wasn’t there.
