We headed back to our OB/GYN and the available doctor (not our regular doctor) had already received our results by the time we arrived. I will never forget how cold she seemed. She spoke of the baby as if she were a virus. Telling us that there was now no need to be ‘unnessarily pregnant’ and quickly giving us the name of two doctors that performed abortions and the number to a ‘very good’ abortion clinic. I stared at her in disbelief without being able to utter a word. All I did was sit there and cry while my husband and she discussed our options. I was still internalizing the fact that my baby would die. How could it be? She is still alive, and I want her to live. I want her to live!
As if things weren’t hectic enough at the time we were moving into a new home. Being that we were in the neighborhood we decided to go there and think. There we were in our bare kitchen, with just donuts, wine and milk available. I really wanted a drink, but even then I could not do it, she was still here dammit, and I would care for her till the bitter end. We went back home to my grandmother’s (where we were staying in between homes), and my mother and cousin were there. We broke the news to my mother first and then my cousin and grandmother. My mom and grandmother cried. I can still picture my grandmother in the corner of her living room sitting and crying. She kept saying, “How can this be? I can already see the baby here. I already had socks picked our for her little feet. How can this be?” Heartbreaking.
We talked out our options. My mother told me she felt abortion was forbidden by God. Before finding God, she may have considered it, but now….she didn’t think so. I was glad for her honest opinion. My husband wanted to go through with it. He didn’t want the baby to suffer (little to no amniotic fluid = little to no movement). He wanted me to reach closure as soon as possible. I was still numb but leaning toward an abortion.
My husband scheduled me with the abortion clinic and stressed just how devastated we were. The administrator took compassion of us and assured him that we would be well taken care of. A few days later we showed up. It was horrid. After registration I was told that my husband had to stay in a special area for visitors only. I burst into tears, I must have been such a miserable sight. While having my blood drawn a Spanish girl who was also having her blood drawn, asked me why I was there. “Because, my baby is going to die, and I am ending the pregnancy to spare us further pain. You?”, I ask. “Because my husband does not want us to have another baby”, she said cooly. I wanted to kill her. I think she sensed it because she stopped talking to me. Later on in the waiting room she was talking with a Black woman. This woman was talking about how she wanted to get the abortion over with because she was going to a party that night and she needed to get her nails done. I gave her this look that must have been so menacing that the Spanish girl told her to quiet down because not everyone who was there was there willingly.
At this point I was called in for my songram. I told the tech that my husband needed to be called in. She said no, with this look of utter disgust. I told her that I was not the shit that she was probably accustomed to outside, that she should treat me with respect, and that the administrator had said she would bend the rules this once. Ask her, I challenged her. Hubby and I were reunited by the grace of that adminstrator for our last sonogram (so we thought). All the anomalies were confirmed, but we were also informed that I had complete placenta previa. I had to go to a hospital. If anything went wrong I could surely bleed to death, (sign me up I thought).
I was numb. Now, I was really torn. The day before I took off from work; I wanted to spend that day with the baby. I remember we listened to a D.ave M.atthews CD together. All day I lay in bed with her. Just the two of us, surely God would not deny me this. That night I took a bubble bath and played more music, just for us. I told her how badly I loved her. How badly I wish I could have changed things, and saved her. I told her all the dreams I had for us. I told her of how I had looked forward to the day that she was born. So your the one that caused me all that indigestion, would have probably been by first words to her. And then an introduction: I am your mommy and you are my baby. I love you. Followed by so many gentle kisses. All the while saying this, I rubbed my belly and cried a river.
You see, I had prepared myself (somehow) to say goodbye. It took everything I had to say goodbye to her. I walked into that God-forsaken clinic prepared to leave without her, and now I wouldn’t. Emotionally I fell apart. I honestly wanted this hell to be over with. Now I had to find a doctor that would perform an abortion/induction at nearly 22 weeks. A doctor and facility that was equipped to handle me and my baby. Sadly under the advice of doctors we had the decided she would have an autopsy. My husband looked in his wallet and found the number to the two doctors we were given earlier by the evil ob/gyn that was on duty. The social worker on staff helped us make the calls. We finally found our doctor. Three hours later we were at his office.