Although I had so casually dismissed the TA’s comment, I kept praying over the next few hours that everything would be all right. My heart thumped against my chest. What would this mean for my sweet baby?
Kenny picked me up from the academy and drove us to the hospital. Inside the high risk section, the rooms were much more spacious than the ones in Jenny’s clinic. The waiting room was filled with friendly secretaries and spacious sitting areas. The ultrasound room opened up to a space large enough to be a hotel room, with several chairs lined up in the corner for loved ones to sit. A calming picture of water rested above those chairs. Even the paper the nurses used to cover the chair was more decorative, flowers dotting the length of the chair. Somehow, the space made me feel more alone.
“Do you know the gender yet?” the technician asked.
“No, the baby was being stubborn and not showing us.” I smiled. Smiling calmed my pattering heart a little.
“Well, we’ll do what we can to find out.” The next few hours were rather quiet ones. The tech took measurements and listened to the heartbeat. She would change the settings on the ultrasound machine sometimes to see the blood flowing through the baby’s body.
I closed my eyes and tried to think about myself floating in water. Whatever was wrong with my precious baby, I didn’t care. Kenny and I would do everything we could to help her. Surgery and long hospital stays were not an issue for us.
“Looks like a girl to me.” The technician said. “I got a pretty clear picture.”
My heart fluttered. “I hope she will have Kenny’s red hair,” I thought.
Finally, the doctor entered the room. He explained that our baby did have organs outside the body, including the heart and liver as well as severe spinal curvature. This diagnosis was not easy to hear, but Kenny and I just nodded. It seemed that the baby would need major surgery. We could handle that.
The doctor paused. Then, “Most babies don’t survive ectopia cordis. They usually pass away inside the womb. Even if they live until birth, the longest they usually survive outside the womb is three days.”
The news pelted me in the face like hail in a biting wind. This could not really be happening to me. We had miscarried our first and had spent nine months trying to get pregnant again. I had to take progesterone in order to sustain this pregnancy. How could God take this baby away from me?
by Sarah George