As jelly was rubbed on my tummy, the ultra-sound tech commented about how she was going to look through the anatomy: the heart, the lungs, the brain . . . I jumped in with, “and the gender . . .”, smiling when she picked up on my“hint-hint-can-we-find-that-out-sooner-than-later??"
I only had to wait a few minutes before she found the appropriate position. Before the ultra-sound tech even said it, Dan noticed right away. “It’s a boy, isn’t it?” The tech smiled and said, “Yes, how did you know?” and seemed impressed with Dan’s ability. Dan laughed. “Well, it’s sitting right there.” I, of course, did not see anything right away. Dan’s always better and deciphering the images than I am, so I questioned, almost afraid to really believe, “Is it really a boy?”
When the tech confirmed, my eyes welled up and my soul felt a thousand emotions past and present, and I sobbed audibly. I remembered when we found out Ty was a boy, and I felt his birth, his life, his loss. It’s amazing how much the body can experience in only seconds. And I felt sheer happiness and gratitude.
Dan explained to the technician, “We have a boy but he passed away.”
While I continued to cry, accepting the fistful of tissues to catch the make-up that I hadn’t expected to run all over my face, she asked, “Does this baby have a name?”
“Aaron Ty Kiefer.” It sounded so beautiful.
I don’t know how the ultra-sound tech continued to explore anymore with how my stomach was bouncing around with my tears, but I eventually calmed down after a couple more minutes, smiling in awe of the cute figure on the screen and quietly relishing in the fact that I have the opportunity to raise another boy. I could not feel more excited or more grateful.
Dan later said to me, “So do I need to say it?”
“What?”
He continued, “You were right, and I was wrong.”
I laughed (like that was even in question), but said, “I don’t care about being right. But I did just know somehow. Are you happy still?” Of course, he is. He really, really is. He smiled and held my hand tightly through the whole experience.
It’s been interesting anticipating this gender. With Ty, we both hoped for a girl and didn’t have any real expectations. With Aiyana, I hoped for a boy, but felt it was probably a girl. With this baby, I just knew from the start it was a boy, with more conviction than I felt with Aiyana. Hers was a hunch. This one just had to be a boy though, and I would have been shocked to hear it was a girl. Still happy, of course, but it just feels so right to me that we’re having a boy now.
I feel like I need this to add yet another page to my grief and healing compilation. I have yet to go through Ty’s clothes and belongings since we packed them away two-and-a-half years ago. I’ve been waiting . . . and now, I can decide which articles of clothing I could bear to see on another baby, and which ones I will need to stay in their current condition and state, with memories only for Ty. I know a few of them all ready, most of which are from favorite pictures. I don’t know how it will feel exactly, though Dan made me promise not to do it alone. So we’ll do it together one of these weekends.
It’s crazy how knowing one fact can propel me through so many thoughts and emotions, opening a heavy door with a very long hallway of unknown up ahead. . .
“What?”
He continued, “You were right, and I was wrong.”
I laughed (like that was even in question), but said, “I don’t care about being right. But I did just know somehow. Are you happy still?” Of course, he is. He really, really is. He smiled and held my hand tightly through the whole experience.
It’s been interesting anticipating this gender. With Ty, we both hoped for a girl and didn’t have any real expectations. With Aiyana, I hoped for a boy, but felt it was probably a girl. With this baby, I just knew from the start it was a boy, with more conviction than I felt with Aiyana. Hers was a hunch. This one just had to be a boy though, and I would have been shocked to hear it was a girl. Still happy, of course, but it just feels so right to me that we’re having a boy now.
I feel like I need this to add yet another page to my grief and healing compilation. I have yet to go through Ty’s clothes and belongings since we packed them away two-and-a-half years ago. I’ve been waiting . . . and now, I can decide which articles of clothing I could bear to see on another baby, and which ones I will need to stay in their current condition and state, with memories only for Ty. I know a few of them all ready, most of which are from favorite pictures. I don’t know how it will feel exactly, though Dan made me promise not to do it alone. So we’ll do it together one of these weekends.
It’s crazy how knowing one fact can propel me through so many thoughts and emotions, opening a heavy door with a very long hallway of unknown up ahead. . .
No comments:
Post a Comment