I have my ultrasound on my breast tomorrow. So many times in the past I have gone to ultrasounds, nervous and excited to see a little one wiggling around. I do remember a time, 3 years ago, when I had a promising ultrasound – a tiny baby, that looked like a grain of rice, with a beating heart…. then, three days later, I went back for a follow up ultrasound and the beating heart had stopped. My tiny baby had died. There was nothing I could do to save my sweet baby.
I always have a little bit of apprehension when I go in for my “dating” ultrasound, at 7 weeks. I have miscarried three times, so I know the feeling of loss when I am so anxiously praying for a healthy pregnancy. I know how hard it is to make calls to friends and family, telling them that my little one will never be held in my arms. I know the pain of listening to the awkward silence as people try to think of something supportive to say.
I was so thankful when I had my “dating” ultrasound with this pregnancy. My sweet little baby had a beautiful heartbeat. I was so excited! The little one’s heart rate was 170. Music to my ears!! At my first OB appointment, this past Friday, I was thrilled to, again, hear the whoosh whoosh of my baby’s heartbeat. What a miracle!!
During my exam, I casually mentioned a few lumps in my breast….nothing I was worried about. I just wanted my OB to be aware of them as she was giving me my breast exam. I told her that I was sure they were from nursing and then getting pregnant while nursing. It was almost as if I was reassuring her. Imagine the shock I felt when she told me that they weren’t from pregnancy or nursing. My biggest fear had already been put to ease – I had heard the beating heart of the wee one growing inside of me – and now I was being told that there may be something else to fear. She did reassure me with her words — “don’t feel like cancer”, “flat cysts”, “still young”…… Then she suggested an ultrasound of my breast. Another ultrasound. An ultrasound with no promises of good news.
I will never forgot the moment, three years ago… looking at my little baby, with the heart stilled…. begging it to start beating. Begging the technician to wait just one more second, to stay focused on my baby, as I prayed for a miracle. I will never forget staring at that screen, not wanting to blink, just in case I might miss the flicker of my baby’s heartbeat. I will never forget wanting to go back into the room, just moments after walking out, so the technician could look one more time. I just knew, if I wanted it bad enough….if I prayed hard enough….my baby would be okay.
I don’t want to have the ultrasound tomorrow. I don’t want to take a chance that the news will be bad. I don’t want to see the technician’s expression, if the results don’t look good. I don’t want to hear words of comfort. I only want to hear, “The lumps are gone!” Please, God, let the lumps be gone.
I am so thankful for my mom…. She will be there tomorrow, holding my hand. Just like when I was a little girl and was scared…she has always been there as my strength. Thanks, Mom. I sure love you.
Until tomorrow, Beckie