It was a beautiful day in May. The week before Memorial Day Weekend. We went to our prescheduled appointment with Dr. Smith*. He is a pretty well known individual and pretty much the only prenatal doctor in the area, or so we were told.
Before the appointment, I did have concerns about the safety of the baby, but figured it was just my paranoia. I would say to my husband, “Something isn’t right. Why can’t I feel the baby moving as much as Sadie?” He would say that I was paranoid and everything was okay. He was probably right.
We entered the appointment thinking about whether or not we were going to find out the sex of the baby. We were happy, ecstatic even, because we were going to be able to see the baby during the ultrasound. Scott, my husband told me that we were NOT going to tell anyone the sex of the baby. This was our only concern at the moment. Little did we know that things would turn upside down in a matter of minutes.
The ultrasound started. The ultrasound technician asked the usual questions.
“Would you like to find out the sex of the baby?”“Yes.”
The ultrasound continued with some small talk and then after a few minutes the technician became pretty quiet. She started asking questions again after a while:
“Have you experienced any unusual sickness during your pregnancy?”“No.”“Have you felt your baby moving normally?”“Well, I just started feeling movement in the last two weeks.”
Silence, again. More pictures taken.
“Okay, the doctor will take a look at the pictures and then will be right in.”“Okay, thank you.”
We waited a long time, it seemed. I had an uneasy feeling. I told my husband that something wasn’t right. Again, he said I was crazy.
The doctor came in, took more pictures and asked questions:
“Have you smoked during your pregnancy?”“No.”“Have you used alcohol during your prenancy?”“No.”“Have you used any prescription drugs or recreational drugs during your pregnancy?”“No.”“Okay, I’m going to go and look at the pictures that I just took and will be right back in.”
“Okay.”
We waited for what seemed like a long time. I looked over at my husband when the doctor left and said, SOMETHING ISN’T RIGHT! He said, “it’s fine, dear.” I tell him that it isn’t fine because I have never sat through an appointment where someone treated me like I did something wrong during the pregnancy. It isn’t fine, I thought. It’s not fine. I sat looking at a black screen saying over and over, It isn’t fine. I knew all along that it wasn’t fine. I tried staying strong for Sadie’s sake.
Finally, the doctor came in.
“I’m just going to lay it all out and not sugar coat anything. The fetus has multiple anomalies that are not compatible with life.”“Okay.” *blink, blink*“The fetus has what is considered a dandy walker variant which is excess fluid in the brain. The fetus is missing a kidney, has a hole in the heart, and is measuring at 21 weeks instead of 24. We do not believe that the fetus has down syndrome. Generally, the head and body are not comparable in size. In this case, the fetus has a body and head matching the same gestational week. We feel that the fetus has trisomy 18 or 13 which, again, is not compatible with life. We do not feel that the fetus will last past 28 weeks gestation.”“Okay.”“We believe that at this juncture, it would be wise to have an amniocentesis so that we know what we are dealing with. We can do that right here in our office if you would like. I would just need to get everything ready now.”“Okay, that is fine.”
The doctor leaves Scott and I alone in the room with Sadie. I have tears running down my cheeks but only a few. I quickly stop them and focus on what we are doing, an amniocentesis.
The doctor comes into the room with everything needed and performs the procedure. He takes the amniotic fluid out and cleans off my belly. We are free to leave.
Free to leave the office but not free of the news we were delivered.
We walked out of the office and I got into my car. Scott had to go back to work but asked me if I was okay and if I wanted him to drive me home. With tears streaming down my face, I tell him that I am fine but asked him to tell my family the news. He held it together but I could see the pain in his eyes.
“I’ll email your family and let them know.”
He hugs me and tells me he loves me and then leaves us to go to work. At least I think he went to work. He may have gone someplace just to cry alone by himself without me seeing the tears.
I sit there with tears streaming down my face and think: Why? Why me? Why us? Why is this happening?
No comments:
Post a Comment