Sometimes Dreams Die

After we found out I had placenta previa, the doctor put me on partial bedrest. I could go to work (I’m a teacher), but I had to limit my walking and standing. At home, I was on bedrest – the couch, the bed, the recliner. No cooking, no cleaning, no lifting.

The doctor also said that we could come in for an ultrasound any time we wanted just to reassure ourselves. After three days of bedrest, Skyler insisted we go back in for an ultrasound since I was still bleeding. No one ever thought the bleeding was going to go away. He just wanted an excuse to find out if we were having a boy or a girl.

The technician spent quite a bit of time looking at the baby. The doctor hadn’t ordered an anatomy scan, so I was a little surprised that she was doing all of this, but I didn’t care because we were getting to look at our beautiful, perfect baby. I also knew the baby was positioned away from the scanner, so maybe it was taking a while to get the right shot.

While she wasn’t completely sure, she told us she thought we were having a girl. She then said she had to go discuss something with the doctor. I asked her if the baby was alright, and she wouldn’t say that she was.

After hearing this wonderful news, we were just left by ourselves, knowing that something must be wrong, imagining the worst. After a few minutes, we were asked to go into the doctor’s office and wait for her to come in and talk to us. A nurse came in and tried to offer me a tissue. “I don’t want a tissue! I want someone to tell me what’s going on with my baby!”

The doctor came in, sat down, and calmly (too calmly) told us there was fluid on the baby’s brain and kidneys, and that they suspected a chromosome disorder “like Down’s Syndrome, only worse.” I couldn’t imagine anything worse than Down’s Syndrome. She also told us she suspected I had a partial molar pregnancy and that my baby had a condition that was “incompatible with life.” I had never heard of such a thing. My baby is alive and growing. We’ve seen and heard her heartbeat. How can she be incompatible with life? It didn’t make sense.

She had us go to a high risk OB for another ultrasound and a second opinion. The new doctor agreed with the lethal diagnosis after looking at the new ultrasound. She said we were likely looking at Triploidy Syndrome or Trisomy 18. Either way, she said we could expect a stillbirth.

An amnio was scheduled for the next week. My family drove in to be with us and comfort us. It seemed like a memorial service because we were made to believe our baby could die any day. I told my family that we were having a girl.

I stayed awake most of the night, bawling my eyes out and researching Triploidy Syndrome and Trisomy 18. All I read was that my baby had no hope, that both of these conditions were always fatal. I decided the best thing would be if my baby died before my next appointment to minimize her pain (and mine). I prayed that she would. If she didn’t die, I would terminate.