May 7, 2012 – I have sat in this waiting room more times than I can count, but never on this side. This is the side where the pregnant ladies sit. I sit alone, but only for a few minutes. Keith gets here and we sit and wait. It has been a long weekend and a long work day of waiting. Here we are waiting again.
The tech calls us back and asks a few questions. She explains that she will do the scan and Dr. S will come in and repeat the scan. She does not want us to be alarmed when the doctor comes in and repeats what she has just done. I lie back on the table and the scan begins. She takes many measurements and just as we had heard a few days ago, we hear that beautiful heartbeat. She finishes up and takes the pictures to show the doctor. Several minutes later a genetic counselor enters the room and introduces herself. She asks several questions and leaves the room.
When she returns, Dr. S and the tech are with her. Dr. S quietly repeats the scan. She finishes and helps me sit up. Then the words I was not expecting to hear. “It’s not good.” She says more, her exact words I cannot remember. The heart is outside of the body…abdomen did not close…ribcage not formed correctly…a pocket of fluid built up down the spine…not compatible with life. All I’m really hearing is my baby is not going to live.
Shock sets in. We are assured that nothing I did or was exposed to is the cause of this. There is no reason. Our baby’s body just did not form correctly. We are told that I may or may not make it to term. If I do make it to term it may or may not be a live birth. One thing they know for sure. Our baby has no chance of life outside of the womb. We have to make a decision.
As they leave the room, they tell us to take as long as we need. I call my sister and ask her to find someone and drive to Charlotte to get Keith’s truck home. I can’t drive. She wants to know what is going on, but I cannot tell her this horrible news on the phone. We wait for her in the parking garage.
We drive to my parents’ house, then Keith’s parent’s house feeling quite the opposite of the joy we felt announcing our pregnancy not even two months ago.
My life changed on that day. Most of the afternoon and evening of May 7, 2012 is a blur. There are three things I vividly remember.
1. The words of Dr. S “It’s not good.”
2. The look on everyone’s faces as we told the news. The revelation that they already loved this baby as much as I already loved this baby.
3. Sitting in the recliner at Mama and Daddy’s with his, Mama’s, my sister’s, my brother-in-law’s and my niece’s hands laid on me as Daddy prayed over me. There is truly something powerful about that.
The tech calls us back and asks a few questions. She explains that she will do the scan and Dr. S will come in and repeat the scan. She does not want us to be alarmed when the doctor comes in and repeats what she has just done. I lie back on the table and the scan begins. She takes many measurements and just as we had heard a few days ago, we hear that beautiful heartbeat. She finishes up and takes the pictures to show the doctor. Several minutes later a genetic counselor enters the room and introduces herself. She asks several questions and leaves the room.
When she returns, Dr. S and the tech are with her. Dr. S quietly repeats the scan. She finishes and helps me sit up. Then the words I was not expecting to hear. “It’s not good.” She says more, her exact words I cannot remember. The heart is outside of the body…abdomen did not close…ribcage not formed correctly…a pocket of fluid built up down the spine…not compatible with life. All I’m really hearing is my baby is not going to live.
Shock sets in. We are assured that nothing I did or was exposed to is the cause of this. There is no reason. Our baby’s body just did not form correctly. We are told that I may or may not make it to term. If I do make it to term it may or may not be a live birth. One thing they know for sure. Our baby has no chance of life outside of the womb. We have to make a decision.
As they leave the room, they tell us to take as long as we need. I call my sister and ask her to find someone and drive to Charlotte to get Keith’s truck home. I can’t drive. She wants to know what is going on, but I cannot tell her this horrible news on the phone. We wait for her in the parking garage.
We drive to my parents’ house, then Keith’s parent’s house feeling quite the opposite of the joy we felt announcing our pregnancy not even two months ago.
My life changed on that day. Most of the afternoon and evening of May 7, 2012 is a blur. There are three things I vividly remember.
1. The words of Dr. S “It’s not good.”
2. The look on everyone’s faces as we told the news. The revelation that they already loved this baby as much as I already loved this baby.
3. Sitting in the recliner at Mama and Daddy’s with his, Mama’s, my sister’s, my brother-in-law’s and my niece’s hands laid on me as Daddy prayed over me. There is truly something powerful about that.
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