I need to write something... and I don't know that it will come out in it's entirety tonight. (Part of the problem is that though "resolved" - it's not. It's still a work in progress.) In fact, I really don't think I will write much tonight. But I do need to write something.
A little over a week ago, I had what I thought was a routine NT ultrasound. I'd had one before I left on vacation (end of June), but the baby was just shy of the 11-wk mark, so they couldn't do the measurement. I came back after spending a glorious 2+ weeks with family and friends, jaunting around MI, OH, and WV. Showing off my pregnant belly. Feeling good. Little did I know that when I came back for this routine ultrasound, that it wouldn't be routine at all.
My midwife broke the news to me that the u/s showed that Tiny Baby had something they determined to be anencephaly. This basically means, "without brain." As in, a brain just hadn't developed. This is simply "not compatible with life" (a phrase we heard many times over the last week). I guess this is quite rare, and they never really can say why this happens, but it sometimes does. It just made no sense. And it still doesn't.
We spent almost every day in the following week with a different specialist or another doctor. Ultrasounds that used to bring joy and hopeful anticipation instead brought tears, convulsions and trauma. One specialist expanded on anencephaly, by adding the term "anacrania." This basically means "without skull." So this may be obvious to you ... and somewhere inside, it was to me as well ... but this further confirmed that there is no way our baby could live past birth. I could continue to carry the baby, and it would likely even continue to take nourishment and grow ... but there was no way it could ever have a chance to live on the outside.
I had just come into my second trimester, so, keep in mind... that leaves me 2/3 of the way to go. 6 months of well-meaning, "How are you feeling?"s and "How's the baby?" and "What are you having?" 6 months of watching what should like hope grow ... but knowing with dread that when it came to the point to give birth, I would instead be in total despair. Maybe a stronger person than me could tell all those well meaning questioners and go through a "birth" like that - but I can't. I couldn't.
So my options did not feel like options. I'm thankful for "choice" but it did not feel like I had a choice. You never hear stories like this in the pro-choice/pro-life debates. If I had a choice my baby would have developed nice and normal brains and skull. My baby would live. My choices? Suffer now (already doing it) and/or suffer later (sure I will continue to do this).
But I am not pregnant anymore. We didn't know the gender (too early), but I had inklings and dreams it was a girl, so we call her Clover. And that's all I can write tonight.
