I remember distinctly just how excited I was upon waking the day
of Ezra’s anatomy scan [aka 20 week ultrasound]. Somehow, I had shaken the
pregnant-after-a-loss anxieties and I was just happy, exuberant and yet somehow
relaxed. Such was not the case the morning of Baby Sweets’ ultrasound. Sunday
night, I kept occupied with several last minute “reveal session details,” and
somehow found myself sewing quick mittens out of red fleece until 11:30pm . . .
which turned into anxious thoughts that kept me up until well past 12:00am.
The
alarm sounded at 5:15am and Tony and I were groggily up and at ‘em for the day.
In a flurry of activity, we got the vehicles loaded, bodies dressed and out the
door. Unfortunately, with snow and traffic, we ended up running behind.
I ran into the hospital to check in and my whole concept of the
day’s progression was put off track when the receptionist came back to the
front after conferring with the ultrasound tech, informing me quickly “You’ll
have to reschedule.” Ten minutes. Ten minutes. Where could we have picked up
ten minutes to have not been late? I started getting upset immediately,
refusing to take the rescheduled appointment. All I kept thinking was that if
the hospital hadn’t of lost my original appt time, which was at 8:00am, we
wouldn’t be in this situation. We wouldn’t have had to leave the house before
6:30. I turned into one of “those people” and was very firm that I wanted an
appointment that day. No one budged. Almost on the verge of tears after
speaking with scheduling, I left the lobby. Tony followed me out, but then said
he was going to go back, “Just to talk with someone.”
Talking with someone turned into him asking to speak with the ultrasound
technician, who very unhappily obliged. Tony stated our case, why we were upset
about the original lost appointment, that we had both had to take time off of
work and that we’d had to arrange child care to which the ultrasound technician
finally threw up her hands and said “Fine, I’ll take you over my lunch!” Now,
with time and perspective, we know that it wasn’t her fault. We know that we
were the ones who were late. We wanted something to be done to remedy the
situation, but at no point were we rude, exhibiting un-Christ like behavior, or
ask her to take us over her lunch. We did still end up feeling like “those
people.”
So, with a rescheduled ultrasound at 12:00pm, we left the
hospital to join the boys and my Dad for breakfast, followed by killed time at
Target and the toy aisle, followed by Ezra napping in the Jeep and Tony and
Isaac heading off for the mall. When Isaac fell asleep in the car though, Tony just
decided to drive around for awhile before coming back for the rescheduled
ultrasound that we were early to.
Again handing the boys off to my Dad, who thankfully had a very flexible
schedule yesterday, we walked in for me to check in for the 2nd time. Since leaving earlier in the morning, I think it ate at both Tony and I that
we acted unlike ourselves to be so
forceful. At that point, I think we were both just as nervous for how awkward
the scan could go, so much as whether the baby was healthy! Thankfully, we
brought full arms of appeasement via small gifts from Target for the
receptionists and the ultrasound tech. When she greeted us, you could tell she
had resolved to be curt, but professional, until I handed her the gift and
subsequently choked up in thanking her and apologizing. Both were extremely
well received and she said “I’ll just say thank you, and we’ll leave it at
that.”
With that behind us, I laid down for the ultrasound and
immediately started to cry when she showed us both hemispheres of our Baby
Sweet’s brain. With both Ezra and Baby Sweet’s, it’s the brain that gets me
going, followed shortly by viewing all four chambers of the heart. While my
loss was early, it doesn’t lessen the fact that I understand how absolutely
miraculous each and every healthy pregnancy is. It never ceases to amaze me.
It’s interesting, how so many people love how I “creatively” announce
my pregnancies and find out the sex, while just as many seem to hate it. It’s
seen as over the top and ultimately narcissist, which I’ve never understood, as
it’s personal and intimate to us. Instead of finding out with a stranger in the
room, we get to find out together, as a family. Tony loves going along with it
and helps in any way he can, as it fills our time leading up to the big
ultrasound. And while the reveal is focused on the gender, it allows us to
forget about the what-ifs the ultrasound could discover until only a little
window of worry is open. We know that the ultrasounds sole purpose is as a
diagnostic tool to determine health of the baby, not the future paint color of
the walls of the nursery.
But I digress, over and over we heard how all of the
measurements looked good and lined up, pounding in that indeed, there was
again, a healthy baby. We didn’t give her any indication which sex we were
hoping for, but had just asked that she not share with us. Instead, I had
printed two pictures, clearly labeled “It’s a boy” and “It’s a girl” for her to
pop into a sealed envelope. At the end of the ultrasound, once all of the
required measurements were taken, she asked Tony and I to look away while she
tried to get an idea of the sex. Baby Sweets wasn’t too cooperative and the
tech tried for around 5 minutes to get a better view. She said at the beginning
that she had a “pretty good idea,” and then quickly stated, “Yup, I know it
now.” This led Tony to believe Baby Sweets was a girl and for me to only more firmly
believe our third boy was on the way.
As we wrapped up the ultrasound, we again thanked her for taking
us. She again asserted that the gift was unnecessary and that led to us
thanking her yet again! I was just beside myself that we had a third healthy
baby! Such an amazing blessing!
My Dad took the boys to Target for a 2nd time during
the ultrasound and we met up for lunch, each boy sporting a new toy . . . Ah,
Grandpa. :) We ate lunch
before I took off for my follow up appointment with my midwife, which aside
from her and I both thanking God for a healthy baby, was largely uneventful
[which are the best kind].
I was in and out within 35 minutes and found myself
leading a caravan to the tree farm for the reveal session . . . finally, only 6
hours after originally planned!
Thankfully, Gina and our friend Julia were both able to still
make it at the later time, with Gina shooting a session in between. I was
slightly concerned that the tree farm would dislike our shooting during
business hours, opposed to the original time that we’d discussed which was
before they even opened, but the owner Neil seemed pleased we were
there and didn't seem to have a single issue with our plans . . . small generator and
all.
So, we set off to find our tree location. Tony, Gina, Julia and
I, a rag tag bunch of Minnesotans with too many layers on to count to
compensate for the 15F weather. We made short work of decorating the tree,
before I set off to dress the boys in their outfits [ie layers, lots and lots
of layers]. It was my favorite kind of busy, the kind that keeps your mind
full, until before you know it, you’re standing with your family, in front of
your best friend and Dad, ready to find out the sex of your 3rd, and
for all intents and purposes, final child.
Unfortunately, not everything went as planned . . . you know,
kind of like the entire rest of the day,
and my poor sweet, happy hearted Ezra could.not.stand.the.cold. Nothing would
soothe him, so we decided to just go for it. We stood, our family of 4 ,in
front of that beautiful Christmas tree and I had no clue whether red or blue
bulbs would be shining when I opened my eyes. I listened as Gina, Julia, my
Dad, Tony and Isaac counted down from 3, but I wasn’t ready when they stopped.
I didn’t gather myself, I didn’t reflect, hope, wish, anything. I just opened
my eyes and for a moment must have completely lost myself, because I forgot
what I was looking at. I thoroughly believe there was a look of confusion the
first few seconds my eyes were open, because I just couldn’t comprehend: RED.
Red lights. Red lights meant a girl. A girl? We’re having a girl? Typing this I
still can’t believe it.
So many people have said comments to me over the course of this
pregnancy and even yesterday, even comments on this blog, regarding my “always
wanting a girl” or “trying for a girl” or anything somehow related to the
assumption that given my having two boys, I would most certainly hope to have a
daughter. I think I’ve finally pinpointed why it irks me so. It seems to short
change God. It doesn’t acknowledge the definite heart change of the magnitude only He can swing that has occurred to
only recently open my heart to a daughter. I really wanted three boys. No, this has not been my dream since I was a little girl, as domesticity
and mothering were not roles I desired to fill, but since marriage, since Isaac, that is what I envisioned, a mother to three sons.
I thought I understood her, that mom, she felt safe to me. I can without a doubt say it was never my dream to have a daughter. I hope I’m
accurately describing the condition of my heart and my hopes, because it’s why
I want to explain to every single person who seems to give me the knee jerk
reaction that I “must be thrilled,” that while yes, I am overjoyed [which is a
work of God], I’m also recovering from the loss of my original dream. I was so
convinced it was a 3rd boy, while I spoke of hoping for a girl, I
was already planning what my future looked like as a mother of three boys. And then there's just facing the fact that there are women, desiring a daughter, desiring a son, desiring any baby and here I am with the guff to lay it out there that this wasn't what I envisioned. It’s a very confusing mix of emotions.
And well, what everyone wants to actually see, the pictures. Gina Zeidler and Julia Prichard were troopers, especially considering the weather, let alone the schedule changes. Gina is my dearest friend, the one who has taught me how to be a friend. I treasure these images so much! I can't explain the shock, but the pictures can!
And . . . just getting into it! When we opened our eyes!
"You're going to have a little sister Isaac!"
"See Isaac? Red lights!"
Smiles all around!
