Just Keep Breathing

I can honestly say that up until this point, March 13, 2013, was one of the very worst days of my life. I was finishing up at work for the day and Chris happened to be in my office as we were going to ride home together. I received a call from my midwife who had just been sent our ultrasound images and called me from what sounded to be her car. When I heard her voice, I knew something was not right. She went on to tell me that there was “definitely something wrong” with our baby, and that her jaw, brain, and possibly heart appeared to have some major issues. I can’t describe what it felt like to hear that news. Chris knew from my face and instantaneous weeping that something was very wrong, and I listened on while trying not to become physically ill. As she spoke, I envisioned my baby spending months in a hospital NICU. In my mind’s eye I pictured her with severe disabilities that would rob her of a normal life. The news about a potential diagnosis didn’t affect my love for her in any way. I felt nothing but intense affection towards her as I began to shift my perspective to life with a disabled child rather than life with a healthy child.

Our midwife told us she would call the maternal fetal specialists in a city nearby to set us up for an appointment, and she was able to pull some strings and get us in the very next day. At this point, I assumed that our daughter’s condition was serious, but I didn’t know how serious. My mom drove up to meet us at the hospital the next morning, and we watched and waited in devastation as the ultrasound technician at the specialist’s office completed another anatomy scan without saying much at all.

The technician left to get the doctor, and I could barely breathe. I held my mom’s hand and stared straight into the light above my bed in sheer disbelief that this was actually happening. When the doctor came in, he confirmed that there was something seriously wrong with our baby. He began listing off the various parts of her body that appeared problematic, and my whole world came crashing down as one word and one word only stuck out in the midst of the conversation: fatal.