1 Week ago, this morning…
…I was busy. Hustling about to get the children ready for school.
…I attended Mass — the all-school Mass
…I smiled at many people — all familiar faces that smiled back
…I went to breakfast with my husband and with my son, Dominic
…I looked forward to my ultrasound and finding out for sure the gender of the baby I carried
…I cared for my husband who seemed to be coming down with a cold and told him to rest at home instead of come with me
1 Week ago, this afternoon…
…I endured an eerie check-in as I prepared to go in for my ultrasound
…I sat in a quiet waiting room, thinking how weird that check-in was
…I followed a beautiful girl back to the ultrasound room, verifying for her I wanted to know the gender
…I waited for the news that never came — the heart rate, the blessed heart rate that I had been so blessed to hear at 5 previous mid-pregnancy ultrasounds
…I watched as the technician’s face turned more serious
…I asked, “Is that the head?” and “is that an arm or a leg?” to break the silence and get some kind of feedback so I didn’t have to interpret her facial expressions
…I heard her say, “I need to get another person to come and verify what I am seeing — I am not seeing any heart movement.”
…I had a pause and then, the tears and the sobs began before she left the room yet. Nothing had been verified, but I already knew.
1 Week ago, this evening…
…I had made arrangements for our children and we made the drive to the hospital
…I had endured hours of crying and sobbing, only to wonder where the tears could be coming from at this point?
…I drifted to sleep not knowing if it would take half a day or 2 days to deliver my precious boy
…I drifted to sleep praying to my Nana (who had suffered a stillbirth with her first baby) asking her to pray for me that this would not take too long — I couldn’t bear it.