Southern Ramblings

"Ok, I need to go get the doctor now. No worries I'll be right back."  This ultrasound technician was a liar. She worked in a high-risk fetal maternal medicine office. Her lies should've been more convincing.  One umbilical artery. Feet that aren't quite right. Left leg doesn't move. More tests. More ultrasounds. More doctors. Amniocentesis. More questions. No answers. And finally, her brain is "smooth"... "Ma'am, this pregnancy isn't viable. This fetus will not survive outside the womb. You need to consider termination, before it's too far along to do so." "NEW DOCTOR!" I demanded. And a different doctor told me the same thing. And after him, another doctor with the same opinion.  Another baby girl. I have four sisters and a daughter. This family only makes girl babies. And THIS girl baby is mine. This baby girl belongs to my sweet daughter. HER baby.  We prayed together. We researched, we cr...

The stories from our lives, a little at a time. Three miscarriages in four years. Desperation and despair creeped into our lives. There were so many sad thoughts hiding behind our smiles. I quickly learned why the average pregnant woman waited twelve weeks to share her good news. My daughter was asking for a baby sister. There is no real way to explain these grownup situations to a toddler. "A new baby will come when it's time. It's not time yet." And that was the best explanation I could give her. Her brown curls bounced when she twirled for me, happy with the same response she'd gotten a hundred times. That toddler was always under my feet. A cuddler. On the special occasions when she slept in my bed, her little fingers would burrow under my arms or waist. Momma's baby girl. Daddy's girl, too. Mawmaw's girl. Granny's girl. She loved being the center of our world. She never fully embraced childhood, she wanted to be an adult. She wa...