One Year Ago Today

Today is not Owen's Birthday. Quite the opposite. Once year ago today we heard the words "Your son will die." It's a pretty emotional day for me. One year ago today: 10:00 am - Dan and I were getting ready to go to the doctor's office for an ultrasound. We were so excited. I was in my 38th week and couldn't wait to see how Owen was doing. 12:30 pm - By this time, Dan and I had seen Owen and were relieved that he was still a boy! Funny, but our biggest fear going into the ultrasound was that they had gotten the sex of the baby wrong. Dan left the doctor's office to go to work while I stayed for a check up with the doctor. When the doctor walked into the room and I was excited to talk about how the baby was doing. I quickly became alarmed by the look on her face. "Well," she said, "The ultrasound showed some abnormalities. Owen's arms, legs and chest, are measuring small. We are not sure what this means at this point so we would like you to see the perinatologist. We think that it would be best if you see her today." She told me that it would be a good idea to call my husband and have him come back to the hospital. 2:30 pm - I called my husband in a panic. "Something's wrong! Something's wrong!" I could barely talk through the sobbing. I thought to myself, what if Owen is a dwarf? That was the absolute worst thing I could have imagined. 'He look strange and people will make fun of him,' I thought. I didn't realize that it wasn't even close to the worst thing that could happen. I called my mother. I'll never forget the sound of her voice when I told her something was wrong. The wait to see the perinatologist was agonizing. When we were finally called in, the doctor did another ultrasound. The exact discussion was a blurr. I remember hearing "lethal" and some some term relating to his skeleton. Lethal. The severity of the situation dawned on me. "Will our baby die?". "Yes, your son will die." I remeber crying out. It was a primal, guttural cry. That's the only way I can describe it. It's the sound people make when their world comes crashing down. At 2:52 pm exactly one year ago, Dan and I thought our son would die. 7:00 pm - One year ago at this time, most of our immediate and close extended family had been told the devestating news. Everbody was as heartbroken as we were. My parents came over and cried with us. I had never seem as sad as on that day. Dan and I spent the rest of the afternoon alternating tears and silence. We bargained with God and promised that we would be better people if he let our son live. We prayed that our U of M appointment the next day would prove our diagnosis wrong.