Not the News We Were Expecting

It certainly caught me by surprise.  I had happily taken the morning off of work so we could drop the boys off at their grandparents and Katrina and I could visit the ultrasound tech in peace. We were waiting outside for the tech to show up with my for-some-reason-sunburnt nose.  Katrina and I were laughing and joking with one another about the day and about our boys.

When the tech finally showed up, the office wasn't ready for visitors at all.  He had to move some items out of the ultrasound room and there were business cards all over the floor.  When we got into the room, the ultrasound projection screen wasn't working, so we tried to help him figure out what was going on.  He was able to find another screen that worked, so Katrina laid down in her spot on the cold bed and I took a seat next to her.  All these things added up to us just being in a real silly mood.  Maybe Heavenly Father was preparing us for the news were about to receive?  I really don't know.

It couldn't have been more than a few moment of the tech looking around at the baby, but sitting there in silence for those few moments got me uneasy.  I mentioned to Katrina that she should tell the tech what brought us to his office that day, how the college student who did the first ultrasound had though he saw a bubble or something around the baby's head.  After Katrina briefly explained, the ultrasound tech said that it looked like our baby had a pretty severe case of Anencephaly.  What the heck was that?  He started using words like "not viable" and after that, I couldn't really pay attention anymore.  My head started to spin and I had to leave the room. I walked into another room in the office that was a birthing room and sat down and put my head in my hands.  All I could think of was "what does this all mean?"  I sat there for a few moments and then got up and walked around again, not quite ready to go back into the ultrasound room.  "I figured she she might have a facial deformity" is the thought that kept going through my head.  "I never thought it would come to this".  This felt like too much to take in.

After what felt like forever, I went back into the ultrasound room, having no idea what they had talked about while I was gone, and it wouldn't have mattered, I could only think of "not viable".  I vaguely heard them talk about other options, more ultrasounds, 3D/4D to identify how severe the anencephaly, blood tests and the such that would cost quite a bit of money.  It's all pretty vague now.  But the next thing I remember, the tech is giving us hugs and telling us how sorry he is.  He gave me a big hug and refused to let go of my head for about 30 seconds.  It was probably good because I felt overheated and like I was going to faint again.  We got out of there with tears rolling down our faces and the little girls from the other family in the waiting room asking their parents what was wrong with us.

The drive back to my parents was even more painful.  In between tears, any talk of Abigail just brought more and more tears.  Were we not going to be able to see our little Abigail alive at all?  Were we going to have to go to the hospital to have this baby?  Were we going to go in for more tests to see if anything could be done?  Were we going to get to have our little Abigail forever?  The car ride felt like forever.

I just had to tell my parents that day.  We both couldn't imagine showing up to their house with our eyes all red and try to play it off like everything was fine.  I asked my parents if I could talk to them in another room and they knew something was wrong immediately.  One of our kids had told them about how the first ultrasound guy saw something off, so they knew we would have some kind of news.  I barely held it in, but was able to get out what I wanted to say.  Of course my parents were very caring and loving as they always have been, and offered to help pay for anything we might need.  All I needed at the moment was their love and concern and that was enough.

Katrina and I drove home in silence, with the kids being loud and playful in the back.  We talked briefly about the treats we were going to get and decide on the movie we were going to rent for them, but other than that, Katrina and I sat in silence.  Any mention of Abigail might have made the tears come flooding back.

We sat the boys down before we watched the movie and explained what was going on with Abigail.  The reactions were varied, as you'd expect from a group of kids from all different ages.  Layne, thinking of his favorite book/movie Wonder, wanted to find a solution to the problem.  Sam sat there in silence.  Ben had a few questions.  The two youngest were barely paying attention.  Afterwards, I barely felt like watching the movie.  I went into my bedroom and sat next to Katrina on the bed.  There was a lot of crying off and on the rest of the day.  I tried looking up anencephaly on my phone, but could barely stand reading anything about it.  I went to sleep that night exhausted and not knowing what or how to feel.