March 23, 2015
I was so nervous and I did not know why. I was ok either way. Ok I really wanted a boy. But I knew that if it was a girl, she would have the perfect wardrobe from Selah and they could share a room perfectly. But I still wanted a boy. And so did Michael. So I guess that was partly why I was so nervous.
My class of 1st graders had been wild that day. I let them “vote” on whether it would be a boy or a girl. The girls all voted girl and boys shockingly all voted boy. I left at noon, picked up the kids and we headed to get our ultra sound an hour and a half away. I remember feeling sick to my stomach. Not unusual seeing as how I had thrown up daily for the past 17 weeks. Every. Single. Day. 17 weeks. Luke was buzzing with excitement to find out if he was having a brother or sister. Up until that day he wanted a sister so “she could play with Selah and her girl toys and leave him alone.” Then that morning he changed his mind and decided he wanted a brother “so he could get bunk beds in his room.” (He wanted the baby to sleep up top. We decided we would rain on that parade at a later date.) Selah Grace had no clue what was happening, but just demanded “GEORGE” on the car TV. We had had this new car with a DVD player for a hot minute and she was already completely ruined for life. We drove there to Enid. Nervous excitement building the closer we got.
The ultra sound started as usual. A sweet girl who looked like she had been out of school for five minute rubbing cold jelly on my tiny bump and asking if we wanted to know boy/girl. To which we said oh yeah that’s the only reason we are all here. She began the ultra sound and I saw the profile. Nervousness gone. Love over flowing. A baby. A tiny little baby. This little alien had invaded my boy 19 weeks before and reeked havoc on my body, making me completely miserable, but I saw that profile and just melted. There it was. My baby. The child I would raise. Now what was IT??? Of course this sweet kid did NOT cooperate and it took forever. Luke & Selah handled the wait like champs (not!). Selah climbing all over the room and making a mess with Luke asking the sweet tech 1,237 questions. This poor girl was probably thinking, “I took this job so they only children I had to interact with were in utero. This kid is driving me nuts.” But then it moved its tiny little legs and decided to show HIS stuff. BOY. A Boy. It was a boy. I immediately began to weep. Happy fat pregnant woman tears.
We knew at this point it was probably going to be just measuring things and looking at blood flow, ect. So Michael decided to take the kids and go run errands. I was going to sit there and finish all the measurements and then walk across the street to my OB appointment and call him when I was done. So he left. I remember laying there relaxing a bit. I thought about how hard the past 19 weeks had been. 19 weeks of throwing up while teaching 18 first graders and chasing around a 5 year old and a 1.5 year old. But it was a (yet to be named) boy and I loved him. I had zoned out for a minute. Relaxing in the peace and quiet when I noticed she was taking pictures of his face and two times typed “lips” across the screen. I thought this was a bit odd, but hey what do I know. She then left the room and said she would be right back. Ten minutes passed. I laid there looking at the ceiling thinking this is my 3rd time around and I do not remember them ever leaving, but hey again I don’t know anything. She finally came back in and told me I was good to go to my OB appointment and gave me a few printed out pictures. I hurried across the parking lot and across the street to my Dr’s office. I was late so I decided running was a good choice. (Note to self when 19 weeks pregnant and you’ve lost 15 pounds from throwing up don’t run. Ever. I mean ever)
The nurse took me back to get my blood pressure, weight, ect and asked me how I was. I immediately started crying and blurted out I was having a rough day. I was a bit surprised that I said that and that I was crying. I was exhausted, but the day hadn’t been that bad. But I just shook it off and showed her the pictures from the ultra sound. I remember her studying each picture for a long time and congratulating me on the boy. Then she led me to the exam room and told me the doctor would be in shortly.
I remember Dr. Jackson (Dr. Michael Jackson to be exact) coming and saying, “I hear you are having a rough day.” I nodded yes still confused why I had said that. He then took a deep breath and said, “Well I am about to make it worse.” My stomach dropped. Nausea hit. I began to sweat. My mind was racing. I had heard the heartbeat. I had seen the heart beating on the screen. My baby was alive. I knew HE was alive. “I just got a call from the radiologist. They looked at your ultra sound and suspect a cleft lip.” WHAT? “In his ultra sound they can see a cleft lip.” I remember getting the words out “well that’s just cosmetic right?? That’s manageable.” Then I saw him cross his arms and say “well…” Well. Oh God. Well. That “well” sunk me. He then explained if it was just a cleft lip it was a simple surgery, but if it was a palate… About this time I made him stop and I called Michael. I told him to come up to the office because I needed him to hear what the doctor was telling me. He came up, with the kids, and Dr. Jackson began explaining to him that they thought the baby had a cleft lip. I remember asking what a palate meant and he started talking about potential issues.
Speech. Dental issues. Potential feeding issues. Possible immediate surgery after he was born. I remember hearing NICU and wanting to run.
I looked at the floor and wanted to just take off. Run. Far. Fast. Away. (But remember what I said about pregnant ladies running). I sat there and looked at my chipped toenail polish trying not to ugly cry in front of the kids. Tear streamed down my cheeks as the doctor talked about the amazing techniques they had and how these days after surgery you cannot even tell. I just sat there and remember saying to myself newborn baby – surgery. My newborn baby will need surgery. My newborn baby is going to need surgery. I thought I was going to throw up. The doctor then told me they were making me an appointment with a specialist in the city who does the high def 3D ultra sounds, but to go home and google- research and then call them with questions. We nodded and put on a brave face and walked to the car. I don’t remember what happened next, but I know I demanded a chick fil a chocolate milkshake and some chicken nuggets (the solution to all the world’s problems) and off we went. We got our food and I then had a moment of clarity and realized our family had been waiting for the text/call about if it was a boy or girl for close to 3 hours now. I needed to call them and tell them, but I just felt numb. After inhaling my nuggets all while throwing food at the banshees behind me (I want ketchup AND ranch AND bar b que mom! Mom! Mom! I need to dip. I need a napkin. Mom GEORGE! Why is eating in the car such a nightmare?) I realized we were going to have to tell our family. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want this to be real. I very smartly googled pictures of children with cleft lips on my phone and immediately put the phone down and cried.
A little ways down the road we called out families.
BOY (wahoo!!)
BUT….. cleft lip…. Not sure…. Specialist appointment. Not sure. Ok, but scared. Not sure what to think. Possible surgery. Yes that’s what Joaquin Phoenix has. Yes we are ok. Ok love you. Bye.
We got home. Put the kids to bed and fell apart. And continued to fall apart for 2-3 weeks.
Open Doors Sticky Floors 