Well, I guess I shouldn’t leave you all hanging. The next part was the one that kept dragging on for what felt like forever. Ill try make it short and sweet for you, because I am just that kind.
So lets see…where did I leave off? Oh that’s right- I was overwhelmingly happy. But not every joyful thing in life can last forever.
It all started about 7 weeks in. I was feeling everything I should be: sick all the time, eating like a rabbit for fear of spewing it all out moments later, and taking 2 hour naps just to get me through the day. And you know what- I didn’t even care. I knew that I was taking care of my baby and had this connection so deep, that I would have done anything in the world to make that baby safe and healthy. And I liked napping anyway, so now I had a lovely excuse. One day, I just felt wrong. I knew something wasn’t right- mother’s intuition, I have been told. So I called the doctor hoping to hear that all was well and that once again my hypochondria was kicking in. If only I had been that lucky. They called me in for an ultrasound and I had 20 minutes to get myself and my husband there, hearts beating like crazy, hoping for dear life that our baby was okay. After all, I had been doing everything right, doing the best I possibly could. We went in for the ultrasound and for a few moments they couldn’t hear the heart beat. Longest moments of my life, let me tell you. I have never been so fearful for silence in my entire life- and now here it was, our joy or fear hanging on this poor ultra sound tech’s word. The good news- after a while she heard the heartbeat- what a relief!! There it was. As I looked up at the screen I saw my baby, growing safely in my belly. And there in the corner of the tv screen was a little thump thump thump- and we watched our baby’s sweet heart beat along with mine. That joy dissipated quickly as we went to see the dr. and she informed us that the heart was actually beating about half as fast as it should be at this time. We can be hopeful, but only that- hopeful…not sure. So there we were, leaving the office terrified and knowing that in the next few days I couldn't actually be certain of anything. In the meantime, all I could do was cry, hold my belly close, and pray to God that he would let that little heart keep beating stronger. A week later… the heart beat was still slow. I was 8 weeks along now….he (yes..we believe it was a boy…) should be stronger by now. She told us we could be “cautiously optimistic.” So there we were…another week spent hoping, crying and praying. You know- I kinda had a feeling that things were going downwards. Some people felt that I was being negative, but I suppose that’s the only thing that saved my heart from entirely breaking. You see, if I had believed my baby was okay, I am not sure I would have survived what happened next.
When we first got pregnant, I happily made our first appointment for 9 weeks out. Now here we were, oddly enough on that same day, yet our heart missing the joy that should have been present. As I laid on the ultrasound table, I saw it before the tech had to say a word: no thump thump thump. Our baby’s heart had stopped beating sometime during the week. Its strange now to look back and think “when?” Was it during the night as I dreamed up baby names or nursery colors? Or maybe at work while I watched what I ate and drank all my water. Or maybe while I watched t.v., laughing with my husband over a funny commercial. I’ll never know when it happened, or if i noticed our poor baby leaving me, in a sense. All I will remember is feeling my heart drop, and hearing my husband try to navigate the details with the doctor while I cried into my hands. Who knew it would be us? And who knew this pain existed? I’ll never forget that day.
No comments:
Post a Comment