Thursday, September 5, 2013
Sometimes I find myself in situations where I have to make a very conscience effort to remind myself that the people I have encountered are not aware of my journey and that they are simple doing their jobs. 

Yesterday was one of those days.
My "worst case scenario" self had my realistic self totally paranoid about some leg pain I have been experiencing lately so my PCP ordered an ultrasound to put my mind at ease. All was well but I added a tally mark to the ultrasound list...I am almost certain that I have had more ultrasounds this year than most have in their entire life. 

As I laid on the exam table the sonographer was explaining the machine to me and telling me how good the imaging has become. She does not know me nor did she know that I am an ultrasound pro so I just listened to her. In her explanation of the imaging she asked if I had ever had an ultrasound. I hesitantly answered yes and she asked if it was "for the exciting gender reveal during a pregnancy." My instinct was to say, "nope, I found out I has having a girl after they stuck a massive needle into my abdomen while I was awake and nicely ripped out a piece of my placenta." I resisted the urge but politely responded that I had to have several ultrasounds due to a complicated pregnancy. My hope that this would satisfy as the answer was quickly crushed as she asked a few more questions.  I know I am beginning to heal because I can talk about my journey without totally losing it but I don't always like to share with strangers. It is sensitive and personal so I don't usually provide all the details but the sonographer seemed to really want to know our story so I give her my very quick and very rehearsed run down...Addy had a cystic hygroma and after an MRI, we knew she also had a right sided diaphragmatic hernia, dysplastic kidneys, and underdeveloped lungs.

After sharing, she asked if I drank enough water throughout my pregnancy. 
I found it to be an odd question after I just explained how Addy had passed away but she proceeded to tell me her story. She shared that her son had to go to the NICU after his birth because "he also had issues with his lungs." She explained that her doctor told her his issues were a result of "lack of amniotic fluid most likely caused by not drinking enough water throughout the pregnancy." She continued that he is "perfectly fine now" but he has "really bad asthma" which she feels really guilty about because she "caused it by not drinking enough water." 

I left the conversation at that. 
There was nothing else to say. 

For me, it isn't helpful to hear that God needed an angel in Heaven.
It isn't helpful to hear that my Addy is in a better place.
It isn't helpful to hear that I am young and can have more children.
And it isn't helpful to be made to feel like I did something wrong. 

I would have ingested the Mississippi River if it would have changed Addy's prognosis. 

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