Today is my specialist appointment.
Lets backtrack a bit.
Late Feb 2007 I got a positive AFP test that indicated there was a good chance something was wrong with the baby. Some sort of neural tube defect. They sent me to a specialist. Dr. Devore. He was to confirm the suspicion and give an official diagnosis.
I was terrified while I was there. I kept thinking positively that everything was going to be just fine. I held on to all hope. I really did. As I waited in the waiting room I realized they were calling in all the other moms before me. Even the ones that had come in after me. They saved me for last. As the last women left the office and I was the only one sitting in the waiting room with my mom and then husband, they called me in. It was a terrible feeling. I spoke to a genetic counselor who really didn't make much sense to me. She gave statistics and numbers and generalizations. It all sort of went over my head since I was a nervous wreck. The part that I did remember and I still hear it echo in my head is when she said "Don't be surprised at the demise of your baby." I felt a lump in my throat. She then showed me to the room where the ultrasound was going to be done. There was an assistant in the room already getting the equipment ready. We made small talk. I tried to cheer myself up and ask if today we get to find out the gender and she said yes with a smile.
So after a few minutes in comes Dr. Devore. A tall and broad man with white hair. Not much of a people person. He starts the ultrasound pushing extra hard on my tummy. So much so that it sort of hurt. But then I saw it on the monitor. The baby and the heartbeat. I was so happy. I wanted to say "See!! My baby is alive!! Everything is ok!" But Dr. Devore kept doing the ultrasound going over measurements and things. He was quiet the whole time. Finally he stopped and asked me if my doctor had talked to me about Anencephaly. I said no. I had never heard of that. And thats when he said those words: "Your baby developed with a condition that is not compatible with life." He kept talking about who knows what but my world fell into a million pieces in that moment. I heard nothing else. I just started to cry.
When I was leaving each one of the staff members looked at me with pity in their eyes. I now knew why they saved me for last. They didn't want me to scare the rest of the mamas in the waiting room.
We somehow made it back to the car and just sat there. We didn't even leave right away. I honestly don't remember how long we were sitting there. But we cried. We all cried. And eventually we made it home.
Ever since then with each pregnancy, even with a normal AFP test result, I am always referred to Dr. Devore just to make sure everything is ok. When I was pregnant with both D and G the appointments were during the holidays so I remember sitting nervously with lots of Christmas decorations all around.
Today's appointment will not have that decor. It will most likely resemble the normal office I went to when I was pregnant with Genesis and got the bad news.
I know my AFP test came back ok with D2 but I still get nervous going to this doctor. His office gives me flash backs. Not only that but as I mentioned this doctor is not a people person. Not friendly or nice at all. He is an alarmist. And even my OB reminded me not to worry. That every woman he sees is usually given some sort of birth defect to worry about, and then they go on to have healthy babies. I know this first had as he told me G may have Downs Syndrome. Obviously she doesn't, but him just putting that thought in my head made me worry for the last part of my pregnancy. My OB says he errs on the side of caution. He rather say something may be wrong and then be ok, then to say its ok and something be wrong and then he will get sued later. I guess I see the legal aspect of that but seriously I have so much to worry about anyway, I don't need an alarmist telling me about something new to worry about.
Anyway, my husband will be going with me to this appointment and for that I am thankful. I don't think I could do it alone. It's also very odd that its the day after the 1 year anniversary of me saying goodbye to Abilla, and the day before the 1 year anniversary of her death. I somehow find comfort in this. Like I feel like her spirit will be with me. To ensure everything is ok. Well at least I hope. Seriously... who would have thought that while I was sitting on her bed talking to her, hugging her, kissing her for the last time... that a year later I could be nearly 20 weeks pregnant with another rainbow.