Our Miracle Girl (Part 1)

It was a gorgeous Spring Day. Pregnant again, I was feeling happy and contented on my way for a check-up with the OBGYN. Happy and contented had been rare feelings over the past few months. My neighbor had kindly offered to watch my two-year-old for me while I visited the doctor. My husband was never able to get off work for my appointments, so I usually had to just take Dalton with me. When the time would come for "the examination," the nurses would just get creative in helping out so my toddler would not get confused by the whole thing.

This particular visit especially, it was nice to not have the distraction of a tiny person to entertain. The examination would be quite a bit lengthier this time as they would be hooking me up to the ultrasound to get an extra good look at the baby and it's development. It was all part of the regular routine in my prenatal care. Sometime about the second to third month, they hook you up and try to see that tiny heartbeat whose sound has just echoed loudly through the stethoscope. I appreciated that loud heartbeat. It was purer to me than a finely polished symphony orchestra.

Dr. S. had administered all the obligatory diagnostics and had left the room for a couple of minutes to take a phone call. I loved how real he was with his patients. He never worried that having an obvious family life would diminish his professionalism, and I really respected him for that. He was such an amazing replacement for the original OBGYN I had seen and reported, along with the sincere letter of apology he eventually sent to me. Still, that bridge was burned and Dr. S. was sent of God to restore my trust.

After the phone call, we had to wait a bit for another patient to finish up with another doctor in the ultrasound room. Then the machines had to be tweeked and there was a shift change with the nurses. Nothing out of the ordinary, but enough to cause about 20 - 30 minutes to pass since having heard that healthy heartbeat on the stethoscope. Finally, as the lights went out and the machine went on, the picture emerged. I am no medical professional and in fact, science and history were the only classes I ever struggled in to make at least a B, but I knew what to look for. That little sack, a blob, with an even smaller blob pulsating within it. Immediately I located the placenta sack on the screen, but as I squinted to find my baby's tiny heartbeat, so did the ultrasound technician. She moved the cold wand around and around until finally, the small space outlining the heart was clear. She wouldn't stop on it though. She kept passing over it quickly, stammering that she was having trouble keeping her wand still as she reached up to move the monitor away from view. I knew better. I had recently lived out this exact scenario before......