Friday, January 14, 2011
An old picture
Oh I have ultrasound pictures, but those are staying in their box for now otherwise I'll start bawling and crying and not write a single word.
He was a boy. One of those shameless boy fetuses that happily display their parts for the ultrasound technician to see. His name was DS. And no, that does not stand for "dear son", those were actually his initials. We had chosen names years before we were actually able to get pregnant. During the last days of my pregnancy I prayed that I could at least get to baptize my child. And yet, he was dead before we knew it. One day after the miscarriage, I baptized him in my prayers.
I remember the joy of that positive test, and the second test I did just to be sure, and the love I felt as soon as I saw a beating heart and the excitement later when we actually saw a head, a little torso and limbs and what I thought was a pointy nose and a smile... and I can't help but think that I want all that again.
But I also have the awful memories of the anguish, the broken hopes, the pain and the horrible sense of loss. And I definitely don't want that ever again.