On Friday, January 25th, 2013, Joe and I went in for what we thought would be a routine ultrasound. Our only hopes/expectations were to possibly get some good pictures and find out the gender. As I laid there, we held hands, watching the screen, captivated by our little one. A worrisome alarm went off in my head as I noticed the stenographer was taking a lot of pictures of our baby's spine. That worry soon vanished in replacement of happiness because our stenographer informed us that we were having a little girl. I did not think about the alarms that went off in my head again until the sonogram was finished. The stenographer then asked us to wait while she rushed the results to a doctor. She tried her best to act as though this was routine, but having two previous children, I knew this was not how a routine ultrasound played out.
10-15 minutes later, the stenographer returned, still trying not to alarm us, but informed us that a doctor had seen the results and we were to schedule an appointment with our OB/GYN for first thing Monday morning. Joe and I went out to our car, and I called my OB's office. My OB's secretary said that I needed to come in immediately on Monday as soon as the office opened so my OB could speak with me. I asked her what was wrong, and she said she had no information, only that I needed to speak with my doctor about the results of the sonogram. When I hung up the phone, panic set in. As a parent, the last thing you want is to know that something is wrong with your child, and there is nothing you can do. All we could do was wait. Wait an entire weekend to discover what was wrong. This was definitely a weekend of hell.
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