The first time that I recall leaving my body was during the birth of my daughter. The pain was unbearable and, left with no other options (and believe me, I tried to think of one), I knew that I must give birth to her. And so I left my body and did what was being asked of me by my midwife. Averi was just over ten pounds and she cried like a billy goat. I knew when I looked into her eyes that I would walk through fire for her. She was beautiful and perfect and has brought more joy into my life than I even knew existed in this world.
Yesterday, I left my body again. I wanted so badly to find out the sex of my baby and I was giddy with anticipation. I thought that I would find out at 18 weeks but I moved to a new state and a new doctor and he ordered the ultrasound at 20 weeks. Yesterday was my day. I put on the earrings that my mom bought for me on the day that we found out that Averi was a little girl, 4 1/2 years ago. I reminded myself to breathe. The ultrasound was long. Measurements were taken, there was small talk, and then the small talk ceased. Questions were asked regarding my due date. And then questions about bleeding. The ultrasound tech typed the words, “I’M A GIRL!!!” on the photo that showed the three tell-tale lines. “She’s definitely measuring smaller,” I heard her say more than once. She went to talk to the doctor and within a few minutes, I left my body. The doctor talked for a long time about the different disorders and abnormalities that could be detected with the Amniocentesis. I signed forms with a genetic counselor. He said the words, “no positive outcome.” He mentioned blood in the baby’s bowel. The doctor put a needle through my abdomen and into my uterus. I watched on a screen while my baby’s right leg, crossed delicately over her left, rested on the needle, pushing it away. The doctor and the tech mentioned how cute they found this. I drove home and went to bed. I could think of nothing else to do.
And now I’ll wait. Because I have to. I’ll remind myself to breathe. I’ll remind myself to blink. And when I do blink, I’ll realize that my eyes are producing tears – tears that envelope me and blind me. If I have to, I’ll figure out what to tell Averi. If I have to, I’ll find a way to tell her that the belly she has been kissing and hugging for months may not be giving her a little sister. Not now. I’ll have to tell her that I don’t know why.
During Averi’s birth, I wasn’t sure if I was awake or asleep, alive or dead, real or imaginary. Any one of these scenarios seemed just as likely as the others. Yesterday, as the doctor spoke, I told myself not to listen. I said that it was not real. It was a dream. And I just need to wake up. I’m waiting.
In lieu of that, I’m open to miracles. I’m open to magic. I’m open to Amazing Grace.
it’s sweet that she did that with her legs.
i’m sorry that this is happening. i hope, so hope that her health is better than anticipated.
Thank you so much, CC. I know all of the positive thoughts and prayers will work. They have to!
oh my God, Mary. I am sitting here crying and crying and crying. I’m sending every thought and prayer i have to you and your baby girl – both of them. Miss Averi will understand if she has to, better than any of us can. I know she hasn’t forgotten all of the magic and secrets yet.
When i was pregnant with Henry, our first, our ultrasound tech got very quiet and tight lipped and we didn’t know why until i got a call AT WORK that it was most likely either downs or trisomy 18, and that i needed to make an appt. for genetic counseling. Two weeks later, Marc and I sat with a genetic counselor who held our hands and explained every unthinkable thing that could be happening and sent us off to a level II ultrasound. EVERYTHING turned out FINE. NONE of what they prepared us for was happening!!
Please, oh please God let that be the case here.
Please know that our arms (all five pairs) are wrapped around you all in spirit and will hold you up when you feel you can’t.
Thank you, Marne. I hope that this turns out to be an error or two. How often do we wish for medical ERRORS? Yours turned out to be a beautiful boy. I’m hoping for a similarly celebratory ending to my story. Hugs to you and yours!
I am thinking magic thoughts for you. As hard as I can.
Thanks, Lori!
Mary, I have just only found your website via a prayer request from Marne. I have no words that bring any relief from what you must be going through so I am not even going to try to sound like I know or understand the place you must be in emotionally. The one thing I will say is that already you, your beautiful baby girl & your family are being lifted up in prayer from around the world! I hope you don’t mind, I posted an urgent request on my FB page tonight with a link to this post… We will continue to pray for as long as it takes!
Thank you, Fantacy. No, I do not mind a BIT. I am welcoming, hoping for, and begging for any prayers we can get. I don’t think we can have too many!
Wanted you to know I’m praying for you tonight too.
Thank you, Amy! I don’t think that miracles are too much to expect in this crazy life.
Oh Mary, my heart hurts for you right now. I will pray and send all the positive energy I can your way right now… there are miracles and I hope you have yours.
Thank you, Brenna. I haven’t asked for many miracles in this life but I am tonight. I can’t break Averi’s heart.
Mary, I don’t know you either but followed Marne’s link… my thoughts and prayers are with you, as well. Pregnancy is perhaps the most magical yet also most terrifying time in our lives. Don’t lose hope, miracles happen.
2 of my 3 pregnancies were high risk with multiple complications and the waiting is torturous. I will never forget that. Like Marne, the doctors prepared us for the most awful scenarios, but thankfully, my babies were healthy.
Don’t lose faith… I am praying for you.
Ang
Thank you so much, Angela. I love to hear the stories that have wonderful endings. I want that so much!
oh, mary. i’m so sorry you are going through this. i, like others here, have heard of very scary experiences with abnormal ultrasounds that have had very happy endings, and i certainly hope that this turns out to be your story as well. but in the meantime, i know you are scared and sad and i wish i could say the right thing. maybe there is no right thing. just know that i, that we, are thinking of you and wishing the best for you and your family. ((hugs))
Thank you, Suzanne. I am holding those stories close and silently telling them to my belly, to my daughter, and to the cosmos. I want to be able to tell others a similarly uplifting story in years to come.
I’m so sorry. You and that little girl will be in my prayers.
Thank you so much, Grace. Please keep us in your prayers if you’re able!
Mary,
My heart and soul are crying for you right now. I will keep you and your family in my prayers.
Please let me know if you need anything.
Thank you, Jennifer. Please keep praying. First results are on Tuesday and then another ultrasound on Thursday. MUST be good news!
Mary…I remember it well…the size of the needle…the words “genetic counselor”…the realizing I was holding my breath only when panic forced me to exhale.
The waiting.
They thought Adam would be a Down’s baby.
I wouldn’t trade him for the world.
But about you…I am praying. I am loving you and Averi, and baby girl, and Brian from a distance.
I am available to you and know you will get through this.
I believe in miracles and the presence of God in all things.
We are survivors…
Marie
Thank you, Marie. I don’t know if life was easier before ultrasound and amnio and blood tests but I know that the information can be suffocating. When you’re trying to grow a baby and the white coats tell you that you aren’t doing it right, the world ends a little bit. xo
Oh Mary – You are definitely in my thoughts and prayers….I had an amniocentesis with Ella and those were the longest few days of my life I think….the waiting is the hardest part. You are so full of grace….that grace will get you through whatever you have to.
Sending love and light….and Amazing Grace ♥ ~Melo♪y
Thank you, Melody! And Ella is as perfect as can be! Please do keep praying. I know that it will help. I’m certain of it. Thank you.
Many prayers to you!!!
Thank you so much, Rene. Please keep sending the prayers our way!
my friend shelby was told that her baby had an abnormally small head and that severe, debilitating birth defects were a virtual certainty. she was told that if her baby even survived the first few months, which was extremely unlikely, the retardation would be so profound that she would essentially have no quality of life.
she’s in kindergarten now and shows no signs that anything was ever “wrong.”
i don’t know if these stories help or hurt, but i felt compelled to share that with you, obviously with the sincere hope that it is helpful … xoxo to you all
They are helpful, Suzanne! The thought that I’m keeping in mind is of when you bring your kid to the doctor for a well-check and they measure and give you the percentages. In some cases with Averi, a week earlier vs. later would change those results by leaps and bounds. I am hoping that fetuses also have unexpected growth spurts and that they don’t just grow at the pace that’s been given to them by science.
Mary- Keeping you in my positive thoughts and heartfelt prayers as you wait to hear the results. Your writing is so beautiful and I hope its a form of therapy for you at this time. Lots of love to you and kisses to Averi xoxo
Thanks, Erica. I didn’t want to share this yet but I feel like I need the prayers so I needed to get it out into the universe. Please keep us in your thoughts over the next week. Shannon told me about your nephew and I love to hear all of these happy endings! Hugs.
yes! something my pediatrician said to me once when my first was tiny and i was full of questions as a result of reading too many books: she said, “well, there’s normal and then there’s the other way. either way is just fine.”
i love that, and i remind myself of it frequently!
I love that, too! When I was pregnant with Averi we were living on Lummi Island and didn’t have internet. I didn’t even realize how lucky I was!
if my son had died 6 weeks after birth, i would still thank God because i was given the chance to spend time with him.
praying that your story ends well. sending you light and love halfway round the world 🙂
from SITS 🙂
Thank you for your kind words, Cheri!
I found you through SITS and I’ve been reading ever since you were featured blogger.
I’m so sorry this is happening to you. I’m hoping that this is just a case of a tech and a doctor over-reacting or being too cautious. I’m crossing my fingers that your little girl is going to be just fine.
Thank you, Shana. I’m hoping for some good news on Tuesday and some great news on Thursday!
Mary, my heart is with you and your girls right now. I’m sending you big hugs and hoping hoping hoping for peace, light, joy, tenderness, whatever happens.
Thank you, Marlynn! I do believe that the shock is wearing off and the depression is settling in but hope is alive in little kicks and nudges from within. We’re still fighting!
Mary, I know this little life you are creating right now will be full of life, just as you are! I say a little silent prayer for you and your beautiful family. Big hugs are coming from Portland and I know that YOU know that we are all thinking of you. Please keep us posted, thanks for posting.
Thanks, Jen! She’s small but feisty from what I can tell. More news on Thursday and I just know that it will be good!
OH! And we’re back down here now! We’re in Hillsboro and God-willing, delivering at St. Vs…