Facing Down My Demons.
I should’ve known yesterday,when I all of a sudden did not want to drag my butt out of bed after the major countdown I put you all through,that something was in the works inside of myself. I should’ve known that God had a much bigger plan then just us finding out the sex of the baby in the works.
I texted Brandon early yesterday in the morning giving him a heads up that I was not doing well at all and was a nervous bundle about today’s appointment. He texted me back a bit later reassuring me that everything would be ok and regardless we would get through this together and that he’d see me after work.
I hate driving to new places especially big campuses like the one the hospital is on. I started off on my drive and put in my music and tried not to think…I didn’t want to think about whether or not it was a boy or girl…I didn’t want to think about if I’d find the building alright….I didn’t want to think about Reed and walking through that loss.It worked,until I got into the parking garage.
I hate driving through parking garages.Brandon called as I was trying to stay calm in the dark small drive through spaces and make it to the top level,where I could see the sun, to tell me where he was. I calmly told him I’d meet him at the entrance but I needed a moment. Thank God we were both early because after I hung up the phone I started gathering my stuff up and the tears started.
AND THEY DIDN’T STOP
No matter what I did…the tears would not stop. I cursed silently at myself for even attempting to put makeup on because I now looked like a splotchy mess. I cursed myself thinking I would even be halfway ok going in for more extensive testing. And I prayed….I prayed for myself to pull it together and I just couldn’t. As much as I wanted to pull myself together I could not do it and there was a reason for that.
When I found the entrance and saw Brandon I lost it even more. I told him point blank,”I don’t want to go in,I can’t do it.” As my feet still moved me forward. He wrapped a loving arm around me and tried to comfort me as we went into the hospital. I pulled it together briefly in the elevator and then promptly started crying again when we walked into the perinatal floor.I stood at the desk waiting to check in alternating between dry eyes and wet ones. Brandon standing there being protective as he could be.
Meeting with the genetics counselor was the hardest and the most calming part for me.She explained to me the normal testing that had already been done and shared the results which in her words,”All looked way above average and are excellent for my age.”(Yes we’ll ignore the age comment.)
She then asked me to share with her about Reed….and for the first times in ages I could not get the words out. I broke down beyond being able to speak…beyond being able to even look at anyone. She asked me if I had been able to hold him and say goodbye because “happy moments” are so important in the grieving process and I wanted to tell her,”Trust me lady there is nothing happy about your child dying in your arms.” But she was so sweet and so caring I know she was just trying to help. When she asked about medical records and found out that Reed’s Endocardial Fibroelastosis had literally been found out within 48 hours and after completely normal ultrasounds just weeks before she told me she would jump on the phone and get the records. She also reassured me that because of such a quick happening of the whole ordeal that she did not think it was anything chromosomal. By the end of meeting with her I felt better but the tears were still on and off.
I tried to make small talk with the ultrasound lady as she set up. It didn’t last long because as soon as I saw my beautiful baby on the screen I lost it again. Brandon sitting quietly next to me,held my hand.The tech,just like the counselor had,assured me she would tell me right away if she saw anything not right. She begin looking at parts and saying,”Looks good…looks normal…looks perfect.” and every time she would say that I would cry more.
Our baby looked perfect…relief.Our baby was moving around and being a stinker and not letting it see it’s face.I cried tears of relief. She then went to find the sex and after all the babies stubbornness,my little Adrienne had no problem showing off her girly parts. We both laughed that yes…of course it was a girl. I then cried more.It’s OK that it’s a girl..it’s wonderful that it is a girl…because I don’t know that even almost 9 years later I could survive giving birth to a baby boy yet.
I was feeling release and alright about things. Then the tech moved to the heart. I silently prayed I’d keep it together. Reminding myself she was healthy she was in good shape. The whole time having flashbacks of myself alone in the hospital room while the Dr checked out Reed’s heart.The tech then measured the blood flow through the heart and as the colors came on the screen I cried harder. There was no keeping it together. Everything looked perfect and yet here I was staring at a monitor that had once predicted my son’s death. Talk about facing down your demons.
After my ultrasound and having the Dr come in and look over things and declare,”What I see here is a perfectly normal baby girl.” we met with the DR for a bit in his office. He took the time to explain things to me about Reed’s condition that no other DR had EVER done. The genetics therapist had come in and told me she had tracked down my records and they were also on there way.
9 years later I had people fighting to get me the answers no one would ever give me. Not the why it happened necessarily but how it happened,and what it was. The Dr then told me in a month he wanted me back in for a fetal echo and also told me he’d be following through with me during the rest of my pregnancy. They were not resting on this. They saw how distraught I was over it all and they wanted to make sure everything was ok.
9 years later I am getting the answers and the service I never got. It feels odd and strangely comforting. It makes me cry that these Dr’s that had nothing to do with this delivery are going out of their way to find these things out. It makes me cry that Brandon has to walk through this with me but it also comforts me because he stood beside me yesterday and helped me walk through something he wasn’t even around for and exceeded every need I had.
I had to face down some pretty big demons yesterday head on. I was not given a choice if I wanted to face them and it was OK if I kept breaking down…but I know God wanted me to go through this.
9 years later another part of the healing has started and I couldn’t think of a bigger God,or a more skilled medical team,or a better man to be by my side to help me get through it all.