We weren’t sure how to feel driving to the hospital for the ultrasound. So many things could happen.
The results from genetic testing came back weeks prior, so we had an idea what to expect. But you can never be sure.
I met Karry and the boys in the hospital parking lot. My three-year-old made a beeline in my direction, arms wide and plugged with a paci.
The pacifier was a battle. I snatched it from his lips and put it in my shirt pocket while glancing at his mother.
“I know,” she defended, “but it was an emergency.”
I scooped him up and slung him inverted.
“Ready to see your little brother?” I asked him.
Big, exaggerated nods.
“Okay, let’s go.”
The technician was conducting a level-2 ultrasound to determine exactly what was going on with the baby. It was an important moment for us.
We had already been advised about the most likely condition of our baby. But we wanted to know for certain. We needed to be sure. (Read more . . .)