Chapter 146: Testing
He wasn't sure how to say it to Abby. He was pretty sure
she'd agree with him, but they haven't talked about it, and she might not, and,
the appointment was coming up, tomorrow in fact, and he had to talk to her
about it because just whipping it out in front of Dr. Draz was a bad plan.
So after dinner, as they were settling down to relax on the
sofa, he said to her, "No matter what the test comes up positive for… I
don't care what might be wrong with her, I don't want to abort Kelly."
Abby gently touched his face. "And if she's sick and
hurting…"
He kissed the palm of her hand. "Abby, unless keeping
her alive means that she'll be in constant pain or hooked to a machine, unable
to survive on her own, I want to keep her. If she's not normal… We've got
money, we've got family for support, and I can quit my job to take care of her
if need be."
Abby snuggled in next to Tim, laying his hands on her just
starting to show belly, and kissing him gently. "Tim, did you think that would
be a problem for me?"
"I really hoped it wouldn't. But we haven't talked
about what if…"
"We probably should have. Unless she can't survive on
her own, I want to keep her. If I'd had any reservations about keeping her, I
wouldn't have risked getting pregnant."
"Okay."
"You scared?" she asked.
"Yes."
She nodded at that. "I'm refusing to worrying about
it."
He looks at her, and she half-smiles, and they both know
that's more a statement of intent than truth. Abby's forty, almost forty-one,
and both of them are more that good enough at math to know how fast the Down's
Syndrome rates skyrocket at her age.
She gives him that half-smile again. "Either the DNA
did what it was supposed to, or it didn't, and either way there's nothing we
can do to change it and nothing we're going to do about it besides love our
child and give her the best life we can."
"Good. I'm still scared."
"Me, too."
Once again they were in a dim room, staring at a grainy
white-on-black screen, trying to make out features as the ultrasound tech
scoots the wand around looking for a good view.
Finally she finds it, and the image of Kelly's head, neck,
upper back, and arms becomes clear.
She doesn't look much like a shrimp anymore. That's very
clearly a baby.
| Feet |
The tech is using her mouse to make different measurements,
and Tim wants to pound her with questions, all along the lines of 'is this what
it's supposed to look like,' but the tech doesn't know. It's her job to
measure, not diagnose.
When she finishes that, she checks Kelly's heart, which was
quickly thrumming away. Tim squeezes Abby's hand as they see the tiny
throbbing, almost blur of her heart pumping.
She points out finger buds and gets a shot of Kelly's feet.
It's very possible he cooed a little at the two tiny feet on the screen. Abby
certainly did.
And after, holding a new stack of ultrasound print outs, he
waited for Abby to get dressed, and to then see Dr. Draz, who would look at all
the measurements and say if Kelly looked okay.
They sat in her office, looking at the scans, not really
talking much, just flipping through them. He took photos of them for his phone,
and then sent them to her. And they waited.
He's not sure if she read it off his face, or having done with
the "How are you?" "Nice day out there." "Blah, blah,
blah," she's ready to get to work, but she opens their folder, looks over
something, flips through a few pages and says, "Everything looks fine. All
of your baby's measurements were within the normal range."
And for the first time in more than a week Tim felt like he
could breathe again.
Next
No comments:
Post a Comment