The day my life changed...

My life changed today, for the better, I just didn't know it yet.  I've written this a hundred times over in my head trying to make it sound good; trying to find the words to express myself without sounding erratic.  There just are no words sometimes, or not enough, to do the love that I feel for my baby justice, or emphasize my love through all the raw emotions I felt today.  Deep down behind all the feelings, second guessing, and questions: I loved him, I always have, I wanted to love him no matter what, and I know I did, but...

It's an age old tale of wanting to go back in time and change something, but yet you know you would not give up that amazing little baby for anything.  You are thankful for the blessing and love that came into your life that very day you finally saw a positive pregnancy test.  Thankful for everything that has gone right so far, that could have easily been so much worse.  Yet, you cant help but wish it was different.  You know that you are a better person for what happened, that this little miracle changed your life for good.  You are overwhelmed with the feeling of still being a terrible person inside: wanting more, wanting better, just wanting him to be the perfect little baby you dreamed of; He's not.  Don't get me wrong, I love him, just the way he is, but the shock of it all causes a great deal of internal conflict and uncontrollable raw emotion.

My phone was ringing, but I was at work.  I was busy.  It was lunch rush and I reached down to silence the ringer, and could feel the lump in my stomach move into my throat.  I worked on, but I had seen who's number it was and I knew.  I knew that very second I saw the doctor's phone number that this was it.  This was the phone call to tell me something I did not want to hear.  I ignored the panic. I squished the unsettling feeling that the doctor only calls when something is wrong.  I breathed and worked.  I thought back on how I had convinced myself since last Friday that I had imagined the ultrasound tech's strange behavior and "non-chalant" digging with her wand and sticky gel in my pelvis area til I was sore.  I told Bryan that she made me feel uncomfortable, but I told myself it was just my overactive imagination combined with all my worries I have had since day one.  I tried to think of the letters Bryan had said she kept typing around the babies face: CL she kept writing.  I didn't know what that was, it angered me that they wrote simple things in such abbreviations that I couldn't decipher it.  I had decided Friday that I was calling on Monday to make sure everything was ok.  Monday came and went, and I heard nothing.  I sighed in relief then, that it was in fact, all in my head.  This was it though, the phone call I waited for yesterday.  I was sick to my stomach as I thought and worked.  I just knew it, this whole time, my gut feeling and instincts that I have never once felt in my life before this pregnancy, were all right.  I knew things that made me feel crazy.  I knew things that I couldn't prove with facts yet.  As a prepared to call the doctor back, tears rushed to my eyes.  I held them back.  I couldn't cry yet.  Something was coming.  I didn't know what, but it was coming.  And I couldn't cry yet, because I didn't know what to cry about.

I sat on the steps out back, behind the dumpster and calmly tapped the call back button.  I waited while the secretary got my doctor.  My doctor was beautiful and nice.  I remembered seeing her exactly 7 days ago at this time.  She smiled from ear to ear that day and talked to me without looking at my chart.  She knew exactly who I was.  I remembered her telling me that she liked my visits, as I never had any complaints.  Oh, I had complaints, but telling a doctor that I am tired and sore, to me, is just silly because they can't do anything about it.  My laziness is not a medical condition.  I waited on the phone to hear her voice again, I knew whatever she had to say would be in her kind reassuring voice.  There were days she told me everything measured perfect that I left the office on the phone with my best friend Sara, telling her, There is no way this girl knows what she is talking about! I'm huge! If this measures perfect on the outside, then I know for sure this baby is curled up in there 5 times!  The doctor said everything so nicely though, I couldn't argue with her.

I waited... after the secretary said the doctor was in an appointment.  They could have called me back, but I wanted to wait.  The "calming" elevator music played in the background of my thoughts, and I held my breath as tears streamed down my face.  Scenarios played in my head, making my tears fall faster.  I exhaled, It must be bad because I am waiting for a doctor to tell me.  My brain reeled, I'm going to lose my baby! I was so close to holding him!  How can this be happening!?  I waited... and waited, for somewhere between an eternity and 25 minutes.  I should have had them call me back, but I was already on the phone, I was ready.  I was afraid if they called me back, I wouldn't want to answer. 

Then I heard her sweet voice, filled with concern, "Shannon?"
Yes.  Oh I inhaled and held my breath, cause this was it...
The ultrasound on Friday came back abnormal.
Oh God, Please give me strength!
Do you have any family history of deformities?
I exhaled, "No", and inhaled.  Hold breath! Oh God, please no, no no!  A new flood of tears was streaming down my face now, cold and wet.  I closed my eyes.
The tech believes she saw a cleft on the babies lip.  It's very common.  She rushed the last sentence out to make sure I knew. And fixable. 
Tears just kept coming as I silently called out for help, barely hearing the doctor.  Please, please, please, no.  Why me? 
The doctor filled the silence with reassurance, but it didn't matter what she said, because I wasn't hearing up from down. She mentioned things like, it was nothing you did wrong.  It's something that just happens sometimes.  It happens in the first few weeks of pregnancy.  It's very common.  It's fixable.  We want to send you to another ultrasound at Magee, just to confirm the cleft and to make sure there aren't any other abnormalities.
More tears came in waves, as the sobbing I was holding inside became painful in my chest.  Oh God! Abnormalities!  Please God not me!
Do you have any questions?
"No, thank you." Thank you!  Who says thank you!

I calmly said yes to the first available appointment.  All I knew is that it seemed forever away, 3 appointments back to back, at two different hospitals an hour away.  One appointment was with the craniofacial team.  A whole team of people for my one little baby's face, OH GOD, his face!  Right on his face.  My baby is deformed right were everyone can see it!!  I just burst into uncontrollable sobbing.  I took a moment to just let everything out, all the anxiety I had been holding in.  I finally could breath and I cried.  I cried hard and loud, letting out all the pain I had trapped in my chest.  I looked up thru the tears, praying for someone to answer me, to tell me this wasn't happening.  I let so much out, yet there was still so much pain left as my body settled back to a quiet stream of tears. 
I heard the metal hinge of the back door opening.  I quickly wiped away my tears.  My boss looked at me and shut the door.  A second later, and another deep breath, I went back to work.  It was only 2pm, and the world was still moving on around me.

My plan: Hide for 3 hours.  I want to go home!  I want Bryan! The thought of having to tell him, wrenched at my stomach and made me sick, but I wanted to go home so bad!  I just wanted to tell him, and cry uncontrollably for as long as I wanted.  To cry without the pressure of having to compose myself, without the judgement of others staring at me.  But I couldn't run, so I held my breath and washed the dishes. 

My boss came back to get something.  I could see in his demeanor that he didn't know what to say, so he made a little work joke.  I wanted to tell him.  I wanted to tell someone.  I had no words.  I didn't know how to say it, so I said nothing.  I half heartedly smiled back, a thank you for trying to make me laugh smile.  I had to go back out front.  Everyone was going to see my swollen face and my red puffy eyes.  I am sure it had gone down a little, but I wasn't ready to face anyone.  I wasn't ready to smile and pretend nothing was wrong.  I don't know what I thought about for those long 3 hours, but I remember thinking it every once in awhile, as I fought back the wall of tears just beneath the surface.  I know in desperation for some encouragement, I texted Bryan.  I have no idea what I wrote, but I told him.  I typed it.  I typed about our baby-- our baby boy, the one I almost lost hope in ever having, especially a sweet baby boy-- had a cleft lip.  It pained me to type it, pulled at my heart to tell Bryan the boy he wanted badly, had a cleft lip and who knew what else.  I knew that anyone who looked at me in those 3 hours, could see the pure agony in my heart with just one look into my eyes.

At 5, I ran, walked fast, out the door with intent.  A 5 minute drive home to Bryan, far away from trying desperately to keep it together.  I put the keys in the ignition and speed dialed the first person in my phone, my mom, and drove.  I heard her voice and burst, burst at the seams and just poured out tears and no words.  I cried for things in that moment that I didn't even know about or understand.
Are you ok?
Yes.
Is everyone ok?
Yes.
Is the baby ok?
...sorta. He's ok... he's ok.  I caught up a little with those words.  He was ok.  My baby was ok!  I was more or less telling MYSELF that he was ok.  No matter what my fears were, he was ok.  He was going to be ok.
I cried, he has a cleft lip. 
The words left my mouth, I said it out loud and I cried harder.  I drove and I cried, and she just let me cry it all out, all of it.  The pain, the fear, the questions, the guilt. 
It's ok, Shannon.  They can fix it.  Doctor's are so good these days, they can fix anything.  You wont even notice when they are done.
Yes I know, yes I know, but...
There were so many buts.  But his palate, the speech problems, the surgeries, the ear tubes.  There was so much I verbalized; Yet, so much I didn't.  The teasing, the being different.  It's a deformity!  It's on his FACE!  My heart just flooded with pain on that ride.  By baby, my poor baby.
You know you didn't do anything wrong. 
Yes I know, yes I know,  but...
I know, I knew.  I said these things, but I was no where near believing any of it.  I let the reassurance come, but I didn't believe.
This could happen to anyone.  It'll be fine.  You and Bryan are great parents.  Everything happens for a reason and it's because you two are amazing parents.  If anyone can handle it, it's you.  He is going to be beautiful Shannon, and we are going to love him. 
I know, yes I know...
That's what I needed to hear.  He was already loved.  I needed to know that he was loved.  That everyone was going to love him, no matter what.  I knew my family would accept him, but I needed to hear that he was so loved, unconditionally.  The reassurance kept coming and the sobbing slowed down as my car slowed to park in front of the house.  It would be ok.  I was at my front door.

I collapsed on the couch with Bryan who was googling away: all the information, who a craniofacial team was... and the pictures.  I was out of tears by then.  Everything was so overwhelmingly scary.  I had so many questions, so many fears.  I don't know how Bryan felt, what he thought, but I remember looking at him and thinking he loved this baby, unconditionally, just as much as he loved him yesterday.  He googled away in complete optimism, and I loved for a little while thru him.

And then came the horror of more realizations.  My gorgeous 3 year old daughter came over and saw the picture of a precious baby, lip wide open, and in the innocent honesty of a child, let out a big, EWWW!  I wanted to cry again, but I just couldn't in front of her.  I just couldn't let her think I was crying because of her or her baby brother.  My insides twisted in knots, How am I going to do this?  How am I going to be strong for this little girl to meet her baby brother, when I didn't even know how I felt first!? I was terrified that Addison wouldn't like him.  That she would again say 'eww' when she sees his little face that looks like that.  How would I tell her it wasn't ugly, if I couldn't tell myself it wasn't going to be ugly??

I thought a hot bath would relax me, make me feel a little bit better.  I leaned my head on my arms over the tub and sobbed quietly.  I whispered, "I'm sorry baby" as I stared down at my bare belly.  Guilt rushed over me, as tears streamed, and I just kept saying I'm sorry, over and over again.  I didn't know how, I never would, but I was sorry because he was in my body, it was my responsibility to grow him, to love him, to protect him, and I somehow was failing him.  He couldn't do this on his own, he needed me, and I failed.  I cried more, cried out in agony, alone, just him and I.

I fell asleep, my eyes swollen shut and my pillow a little damp, with a very heavy heart.  I stared at the bottle of chemical filled hair shampoo I had been using those first 4 weeks I was pregnant.  Thought about all the stuff I may have done those first few weeks my babies face was trying to form.  I just kept telling myself, there was no way I could have known.  And when I woke up to go back to work, I cried the whole way there.  I couldn't stop thinking about it, couldn't stop wishing my baby didn't have to go thru this.  I texted my friend on that drive (she has a retarded brother) and begged her to tell me I was being shallow and stupid.  That this wasn't the worst thing in the world.  I needed to hear it from someone who lived it and knew it was ok.  I needed someone to tell me to shut up and get it together.  And with the encouragement of a honest friend I could believe, I wiped my eyes and worked.  This was going to be a one step at a time kinda thing...