Every June, as I prepare birthday invitations, I pause and offer gratitude for finding my maternal voice. This innate response saved my daughters life.... (excerpt from The Mother Consciousness)
...Then sure enough, just four days later, we were told by our obstetrician the crushing news that there was no fetus in the embryonic sac. He ordered blood work to be done and said, “We should see the hormone levels go down over the next week.” We were devastated. My dreams of becoming a mother were about to be fulfilled and then, once again, stolen from me! The days that followed were long and full of grief.
At our next appointment the obstetrician said what we had feared the most—the hormone levels had decreased by more than 3000 and that reflected a miscarriage. As if trying to comfort us he said, “Most pregnancies end this way and the parents never even knew that they were pregnant.” He continued, “This is the body’s way of getting rid of a fetus that was not healthy to begin with or malformed.”
He then lectured about doing a D&C versus allowing the body to naturally abort the pregnancy. As my husband and I looked at each other, we could tell this was a routine lecture he had given to many patients before us.
[Somewhere in the depths of my existence I had my first maternal instinct whisper to me, “What if he is wrong?” This split second thought would change my life forever!]
It was in that moment that I had found myself outwardly questioning the authority that I had blindly accepted as my truth the first two decades of my life. It was in this flash of time that I considered that this doctor and his tests could be wrong. With my husband at my side, I sheepishly said, “What if you’re wrong?”
Quick glances were exchanged between the doctor and the nurse, “Mrs. Richardson, I know this must be difficult…” He talked about being a Christian and how he would never recommend a D&C without just cause. There he stood telling us about his stance on abortion and how he would not recommend this procedure unless he was absolutely 100 percent certain that the pregnancy had already been terminated.
[Could the ancestral mothers have been listening to my silent cries for a miracle? Did I feel their wisdom in my cells or hear them in the recess of my mind?]
My husband supported my outward questioning of this doctor’s authority by firmly requesting another ultrasound. As they begrudgingly prepared for the procedure, I laid there, once again in the cold blue crinkled paper gown, in profound silence. I held my breath as we stared at the screen. My husband stood by my side caressing my hand. Minutes seemed to be suspended in time.
Then suddenly, there was a rhythmic movement in the middle of the screen within the very sac that just a week ago appeared empty. Stunned—we watched our daughter’s heart beat for the first time. Again, more quick glances were passed around the room as I let go of my breath. The doctor quickly said, “I guess I will see you in a month.” He abruptly left the room with no apology or explanation regarding the agonizing experience we had just painstakingly endured.
(My Daughter will celebrate her 10th birthday next weekend! Happy Birthday Angel-Girl!)
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