So the phone call came first thing in the morning from Dr. Turner's Office. He wanted to meet up with me to discuss our options for terminating the pregnancy and see how I was etc. The nurse also informed me that I would be having an ultrasound on the baby to make sure they had an exact date on how far along I was. This was not information that I had wanted to hear. Knowing that I was already facing that I had to terminate the pregnancy, the last thing I needed was an ultrasound...such a beautiful and magical time in the pregnancy. But I had to do what was safest for myself and the baby. However, I called his office at least three times to let them know that i needed the tech to know not to say a word, not to let me see anything...
Mom and I showed up for my appointment, which began with the ultrasound, then was going to be followed by seeing and discussing everything with Dr. Turner. I laid up on the bed, getting all prepared in the dimly lit room and too soon the tech came in. She was aware of my wishes but I reminded her yet again. As she began taking her measurements, and as we chatted about how "crazy" the past few days had been, I began truly wondering if I was doing the right thing...was avoiding seeing this ultrasound only going to ultimately cause me great emotional harm? Or would seeing my baby...the baby I could not have be worse?
So I asked her if she could tell by looking if the baby had anything wrong with him. As horrible as it sounds, knowing that I had to let him go, I almost wanted to hear that there was something terribly wrong...that I would have had no choice even if I was healthy. This was not part of what she was there to do, but she had no problems doing that. While we had been in there, she shared with me the story of her own personal loss. The baby that she had lost after finding severe birth defects at almost 8 months along. Then she told me that my baby looked perfect from what she could see. And that she could see what sex it was...did I want to know? And suddenly something inside of me shifted.
I was laying there, this close to my baby. How could I not at least spend this time getting to know him? How could I possibly expect to process or grieve this loss if I just ignored it? And that is when I found out I had a little boy. I asked her then if she would mind taking some pictures for me. I knew that many people would think this was some gruesome way of torturing myself but with all of my heart I knew it was right. She agreed completely that I should have those pictures (we had still been sharing our stories of our losses throughout this time and she was so very understanding, respectful and compassionate). I asked her if she would mind going ahead and tilting the screen so I could watch him. I felt him moving around and had to take this opportunity to see him. My son. She was just wonderful...turning the big TV on so I could watch, taking multiple pictures and we watched my son move around...putting his thumb in his mouth, and moving all over. None of this was anything she was suppose to do, yet she did, and it meant so much.
