My husband and I called up my parents, as we always do in a crisis, and asked if they could come spend the night and take our daughters to school in the morning so we could get to the 7:30 a.m. amniocentesis. Again, it was as if the doctors wanted us there when no one else was around. Pregnancy is supposed to be a happy time and the last thing they wanted was a weeping mother in their office, or at least that is how it seemed at the time.
My heart broke because that day happened to be the Mother’s Day celebration in my youngest daughter’s preschool classroom. The children had been working tirelessly to perfect their special songs, one in English and one in Spanish. There was no place on Earth I wanted to be, and yet, I was unable to tell the doctor’s “no.” Continue reading