at the monitor.
I sigh and resist the urge to tell him to shut up. Thankfully the tech laughs him off and wiggles the gelled wand on my stomach. “Ah,” she says. “There we go.”
The picture coalesces and I recognize the roundness of a little belly and what looks like and arm…or maybe it’s a leg. Either way, my eyes grow wet and I press a hand to my lips.
I’ve always treasured the Walkers. To me, they are my family, no matter what. But the moment I see my own flesh and blood, I realize that there has always been a part of me looking for that connection; something I know is wholly mine. It floors me to find it in such a small person. I’m speechless as the tech points out each body part and prints off the photos. I don’t even notice when she stops speaking or when she leaves the room.
Jack, who remained quiet the whole time, finally pipes up. “I don’t know why you’re over there crying. It looked like an alien to me. Are you sure you weren’t abducted?”
I don’t even smack him this time.
When the tech returns, it takes me a moment to sense the seriousness of her demeanor. But the downward pull to her lips is unmistakable. My elation starts to melt away and I feel my heart start beating more quickly in my chest.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I don’t want to worry you, Mrs. Walker, but there were some areas that I felt Dr. Hamilton needed to take a look at. Just a precaution,” she explains as though to stem my growing worry.
I appreciate the sentiment, but it doesn’t ease my fear. Jack squeezes my hand. I return it, probably cutting off his circulation in the process.
Doctor Hamilton, a stout older man with grey hair and a matching a no-nonsense mustache appears with his white lab coat billowing behind him.
“Mrs. Walker,” he says.
“Ms.,” I correct, my voice faint.
“Ms. Nothing to worry about, but let’s just take a look and see what we’re dealing with.”
He settles down in the chair with the tech hovering behind him. Everything in my vision narrows to the little monitor that I’d been watching so reverently only moments early. Now, a feeling of doom settles in my stomach and it makes me want to snatch the wand away from the doctor and throw the monitor out of the nearest window.
I try to discern the abnormality they’re looking for, but every body part looks perfect to me. As the doctor shifts the wand I see two arms, two legs. The outlines of fingers and the shape of the baby’s head. It’s so beautiful and perfect that it makes me want to cry.
Then the doctor pauses and says, “There seems to be an abnormality in the development of your baby’s heart. I want to order a fetal echocardiogram, just to be sure.”
My own heart skips a beat. “Abnormality? What’s wrong?”
“I can’t say for certain without more tests to confirm, but I’m concerned about the size the left side of your baby’s heart. At this stage it would be larger than it is which leads me to believe he may have hypoplastic left heart syndrome, which simply means the left side of the heart is underdeveloped. It’s a serious condition so I’m going to have you schedule an echocardiogram before you leave. We have an excellent cardiology and neonatal unit here at the hospital.”
I can barely speak but I force the words out. “Is—is it fatal? Is my baby going to die?”
“With early detection and care, there is a good chance of survival. If the echo confirms HLHS, he’ll need several surgeries after birth to redirect the blood flow of the heart. I don’t want you to worry about this until we do the echo and confirm. In the interim, I recommend that you take good care of yourself. Make sure you get enough rest and stay healthy. I know this isn’t easy news to face, but you are in excellent care.”
After a few more words and recommendations from the doctor, Jack and I are left alone. I immediately crumple into a heap of tears on the exam room table.
This is supposed to be one of the happiest moments of my life and it’s probably horrible that I spend it mourning the baby I am still carrying. As tears wet the shoulder of Jack’s shirt, I cry for the healthy, happy baby I’d dreamt of for the past four months. I wish for