Reminiscing

I was driving today and like usual that's when I do most of my thinking... you know the thinking that winds up in a teary mess. I have dreaded this month altogether and just have not put it into words yet, until now.  I wish I could remember the exact date, but I am almost positive it was early March that we went in for a 20 week u/s. You may have already read all the details that ensued on Jenna's Story page, so I don't mean to repeat myself. But it's been a YEAR. A WHOLE YEAR.

I remember we had normal married life going on. School for me, tons of work for my husband. We were still figuring out marriage. We had no idea what awaited us the next morning. I thought just another doctor's appointment. We were hoping for a girl, but would soon find out much much more than the gender.

A YEAR.

I remember it like yesterday. We got to my regular OB's office. Within minutes, I had my u/s. The u/s (second one in my whole life) took long... 20 minutes or so. I thought it was no big deal. I remember the tech measuring and measuring and measuring some more. I sensed something was wrong but I would not realize it until much later. I tried to lighten the mood I thought I was imagining by commenting on the baby's silhouette and the baby's head which seemed to be larger than the rest of her body. I just thought it was normal baby development...

The tech didn't respond.

She asked if we wanted to know the sex of the baby and asked us what we thought the baby was. I told her my husband had dreamed of a little girl the night before, and added that we both thought the baby was a girl. With both grandmothers in the room, the news was confirmed.

There is a blur here...

I remember having a checkup and the grandmothers left at that point. I remember us somehow ending up in the doctor's study. I remember thinking to myself, this can't be good. I remember crying because she was telling us that our baby's measurements were not what they should be. I also remember thinking I am overreacting, of course my baby will be okay.

I remember the doc being extremely cold as she broke the devastating news. I don't think she was used to dealing with high-risk patients, she sure didn't act like it. Her staff squeezed us into a high-risk clinic where I would end up transferring my care.

I was the last patient seen that day by a very overworked and caring perinatologist. She whisked us into that u/s room after hours of waiting. After what seemed like a lifetime of measuring our baby girl, she told us bluntly that we had a sick baby. Sick baby? Me? Why? How did this happen? This has never happened in either of our families! All I remember is a million thoughts rushing through my head, but none of them being a funeral. I never thought I would lose my baby girl. I just didn't think it was possible. Even after two confirmations of what seemed like a serious diagnosis.

After the u/s she gave us the option of an amnio. I didn't know what to do. I called my pastor's wife, panicked. Convinced that an amnio would not help the baby's condition, even though it was fatal, we declined; a decision I do not regret. After declining the amnio we were seen by a genetic counselor.  My eyes were blotchy and red with mascara running down my face. They led us down what seemed like a secret hallway where I didn't have to pass by other preggo women. I haven't forgotten that gesture. I am still grateful for that hallway. Before Jenna would be born, we would see another genetic counselor. Official waste of time.

A year ago we climbed wearily back into our vehicle. Neither of us could quite wrap our minds around the devastating news. One by one, family members and friends were called. The family members and friends, who hours prior, had just been texting us "Boy or girl?"

Within 11 weeks I would have a dead baby and a gravesite to visit. Life can change that quickly.

I wonder sometimes why I didn't fantasize about bringing a baby girl home. I don't remember talking about how much life will change, because I guess at that point we just didn't know anything. It makes me sad that I didn't anticipate more. I did plan for her, I did talk about her, I did hope for her. I DID until the end, and never entertained her dying, even when my doctor bluntly told me I could lose this baby, but I just don't remember anticipating being her mother more...

Maybe I knew in my heart of hearts. She was something extraordinary and special. Not of this world.