Their Broken Hearts and Mine

Pregnancy Number One: Part 2

So there I stood, barefoot on the cool tiled bathroom floor, processing moments in time flashing through my head rapidly like a digital camera. My beautiful orange and purple Fall themed October wedding, the endless documents requiring our signatures on each and every page for our first house, and the last of several pregnancy tests laying on the sink vanity all flooded my mind replaying  over and over again. Time sure does fly, and before I knew it, my husband and I were almost through with my 20 week anatomy scan appointment at the OBGYN. My pregnant body ran on nothing but fumes of pure excitement at this point. I was rotating work weeks working 50 hours week one, then 30 hours week two. Ten hour work days on my feet as a pharmacy technician caused my feet and ankles to blow up like balloons, and I even broke shoes from the swelling. None of that mattered much to me because one day down was another day closer to finding out our baby's gender. The day was finally here. My husband and I would bicker back and forth about who was right or wrong. We changed our guesses on the daily. Finally, "congratulations it's a boy" filled my ears. Instantly, my heart was full enough to burst. We were beyond thrilled by the news of our soon to be baby boy. But, our congratulations was quickly interrupted by "there's something wrong with your baby's heart." My ready to burst heart sank lower than the ground that barely held me up. Fetal echocardiogram after fetal echocardiogram proved my biggest fear. Our baby boy's heart didn't form correctly in the womb. My pregnancy was labeled as high risk and suddenly we found ourselves kicked out of our regular OBGYN office and their hospital. I was unable to deliver there because they do not deal with high risk pregnancy. Soon, we were referred to a different provider highly qualified for delivering high risk babies in situations such as ours. Unfortunately, after driving three hours from home to this facility and developing a comfortable birth plan with the medical staff, our insurance company refused payment for the referral because it was considered out of network. So, there I stood, 35 weeks pregnant carrying a child that would be born with congenital heart disease that would need immediate surgery in order to survive. Again, I stood barefoot on the cool tiled bathroom floor crying in front of the mirror wondering how I've come to this point, 35 weeks pregnant, high risk, and DOCTOR-LESS. Once again we were sent to a specialist hours away and out of network according to our insurance company. Here is where I hit my rock bottom. Not only did we have the heart defects weighing on our shoulders, but it was here that we were told that our baby would definitely be born with CHD and Down Syndrome plus more birth defects. Here is where a doctor shattered my dream of motherhood by implying that it would have better to abort the baby than to bring him into this world. That man that shattered me that day, that specialist of the stars so to speak,  filled me with a fury I've never felt towards anyone before. My heart was overwhelmed with sadness, and I just wanted to shut my eyes and the entire world out forever. Here is where my husband took my hand, picked up the shattered pieces of my heart, and walked me out to the car with no intentions of ever looking back on that trip that day. Our  insurance company gave us the information of the high risk pregnancy provider that was covered under our insurance plan about three and a half hours away from home in the other direction. A birth plan was organized to the best of the medical staff's ability, and labor was set to be induced at 37 weeks gestation. My health and the baby's health were becoming jeopardize and I couldn't carry on any further.  I went from enjoying my pregnancy to having extreme anxiety over it. This was not how my chance to become a mother was suppose to pan out. If my husband didn't hold me up and be my rock since the original anatomy scan appointment, I'm not sure if I would have made it to the 37 week mark. His love and support never faltered and for that I'm forever grateful.