“I’m sorry, there’s no heartbeat,” the sonographer said, while I stared at my baby on a monitor, trying to comprehend what I had just been told. The baby was a fuzzy white oval shape floating in a circle of dark – there, on the screen, it seemed more real than ever. How could it not be alive? I didn’t understand; I’d had no signs. I felt fine. I looked at the sonographer again. “You’ve had what is called a ‘missed miscarriage’,” she said, and handed me some tissues.