I just got done talking to my doctor (OBGYN) and she shared news regarding the chromosomal analysis that's been done after I lost my child in December. My baby had trisomy 22, meaning there were 3 copies of chromosome 22, instead of only 2 (one from each parent).
I was also just told that my baby was female. Emily.
How naive of me to think I was fine or that I am fine. My phone conversation was barely three minutes and I was already on the brink of crying. As soon as I hung up and shared the news with my husband, I broke down once again. I suppose this is how it feels when your heart is broken into pieces. Everything feels completely shattered inside and after a while, though the pain is not as raw, the edges not as sharp, the pieces are never quite returned to where they were. It's impossible to completely mend it and it will forever be fragile.
My husband (and probably all males for that matter) is of course the voice of reason. She would not have been able to live a normal life anyway. We can try again.
But that's not really why I'm in tears right now, is it? It's not why I need a tight hug right now to ease the pain, even if that were an illusion, yet another lie I tell myself.
Emily. A girl. A daughter, a sister, the first grand daughter that my mother has always dreamed of finally having, and the niece that my sister was eager to hold. The one who was going to look even more like me. The one Noah was going to take care of and watch over. The one who I was going to have fights with when she hit puberty with all her angsts and make me remember all the pain I brought to my own mother when I was younger. The one I would dress up and accessorize. The daddy's little girl.
Goodbye (again) Emily. At least Mommy was finally able to name you today. Know that you will forever be remembered.