The day of the ultrasound, now 3 days ago, I felt ill. So many people were excited anticipating a gender-reveal and told me how excited I must be, too. I smiled and nodded, thinking “Am I? Oughtn’t I to be?” I felt more and more nervous in the days and hours leading up to the ultrasound to the point that sitting in the waiting room I had a headache, felt dizzy, and like vomiting. I read a novel on my Kindle trying to distract myself. I did wonder what was wrong with me not to be excited about this. I was eager to know the gender and after feeling very surreal for weeks about the entire pregnancy I hoped that knowing if the baby was a he or she would help it feel more real.
The night before we were at our church small group. In that group of 4 couples including us there are 2 newborns. I’ve loved having a new camaraderie with the moms. In a place where I’ve felted supported but still lonely I thought parenthood would give us the missing piece of commonality to help facilitate community with these people. The parents in the group gushed about their own experiences with pregnancy and newborns, and their own ultrasounds. “It was so amazing how clear the picture was, like all of a sudden there was a real baby in front of me!” They said. So clear, so visible. So that’s what I was expecting but the images I saw on the screen as the technician moved the wand over my belly were not at all clear. I saw fuzzy monotone and occasionally maybe what was the baby’s head. Initially the lady told us what things were “here is the head, here is the spine…” Quickly though she got silent and I assumed she was just focusing and busy taking measurements I didn’t really need to hear about. The room was silent for 20-30 minutes while she zoomed in and out, moved the wand, and clicked images.
Finally she finished, still silent. Next we moved to a waiting room for a consult. We waited alone there for what felt like another 20 minutes at least. The clock said 4:10 (our appointment time was 2:30). There were two black chairs and a green chair. There were no posters on the walls. A box of peach-colored tissues sat on the counter. Dr. Wei eventually came to talk to us.
The medical world has polite, clinical terms for really atrocious or bizarre things. “Not-viable” = your baby is going to die. “Circumstances not compatible with life” = your baby is going to die. “Hemorrhage”= maybe you will bleed to death. “Amniotic fluid” = baby pee which he or she swallows and inhales continually. “Termination” = we will suddenly and forcibly end this beautiful thing that was supposed to fill your world and outlive YOU. All these things she said to us and my “expressive eyebrows” must have worked very hard to convince her to say better things. Or to figure out what the hell she was saying. Josh and I both cried but she said we handled it very well compared to most people. Well great, at least we handled it well. I am successfully more robotic than most mothers-to-be.
What she was saying is this: my baby has not grown any kidneys, which normally allow a person to pee, and therefore there is zero amniotic fluid surrounding the baby like there should be. Did you know that after week 12 amniotic fluid is basically just baby pee? And that pee the baby continually recycles- swallowing it and breathing it in- allowing digestive organs and lungs to fully form and function. Without that he can not continue developing functioning organs in order to sustain life outside the womb. He cannot live. And because I also have “placenta previa” a condition where the placenta has attached to the wall of my uterus directly covering my cervix, it is dangerous for me to either miscarry or deliver vaginally and the need to “terminate” the pregnancy is much more urgent. A second opinion the following day was even more resigned to termination than the first.
Medically speaking, there is zero chance my baby can survive and no interventions to attempt. I know that God is the “Great Physician” able to create something out of nothing. Able to enable life where life could not be. He knitted us together in out mothers’ wombs. He laid out our days before one of them came to be. He commanded the waves to obey him, parted the sea, called water to flow out of a rock in the desert. Surely he can command new fluid and new kidneys to form. Will he? I don’t know. But he is the same no matter what- both good and powerful. I pray for grace to trust him and carry on with whatever the form of gift he gives in each next day.
Bethany-in-transit 