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It wasn't fine.
Her brain wasn't fully formed and there was also something wrong with her heart. As the doctor explained, I stayed solid. I asked questions - clinical, doctor's kid questions - and then my voice started to shake as I asked, "So, there is no chance that this baby is healthy?" Then I apologized for getting upset. Ridiculous.
In true doctor speak he replied, "Well, there is always a chance -- but if I had to make the call, I'd say this development is not normal."
We left the doctor's office in a haze. Within hours, I was surrounded by my family, and I had spoken to my OB/GYN, my father, and a neonatal neurologist. All of these people had looked at my ultrasound images and the consensus was nothing good. No one could or would give me details, but everyone kept saying that my baby - the baby I could literally feel moving in my belly - would not be anywhere near okay.
Together, Randy and I made the decision to not bring our daughter into the world.
Getting an abortion at 21-plus weeks in South Florida isn't so easy. There is a clinic about an hour from my house that is surrounded by pro-life picketers daily. Devastated, heartbroken and every other word you can think of that means emotionally crushed, I couldn't imaging crossing a picket line and hearing people scream hate at me.
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