When the doctor ordered a head ultrasound on you to finally put to rest any doubts we had about your head size I was comfortable with the call. Why not just check? I felt confident that nothing was going to come of it. However, as the day of the ultrasound approached I had this horrible feeling. I probably only have my imagination to blame. I guess I got hung up on a worst-case scenario and dwelt on it too long.
You did wonderfully during your head ultrasound. Your arms were flailing a bit and we had to hold them down, but you did not mind the cool gel in your hair or the foreign environment. We were there for less than an hour and went home awaiting results. We did not expect to get results that night while we were finishing dinner. Mom answered her phone and I did not think anything of the conversation until she pulled the phone away from her ear for a second to tell me it was your doctor calling. I knew a 7pm call from the doctor the day of your head ultrasound meant only one thing, he saw something he did not like. I sat at the dinner table and stewed, bracing myself for the next punch to the gut. What am I about to hear? I looked at you on the living room floor, trying to get mom’s attention while she spoke to your doctor, wonderfully out of touch with the news being delivered to us.
Mom told me that the doctor was concerned about the size of your ventricles. Out of caution, he recommended a consult with a neurosurgeon, which would most likely be preceded by an MRI. Mom explained all this news about you very well, even trying to calm me as the doctor tried to calm her, explaining that large ventricles may not mean anything right now. The consult and MRI are out of caution so we can really see if something is not going as planned in that big head of yours.
As Mom called her parents and delivered the news, I had to lie down on the floor with you. I clutched you as you crawled over me, not even taking my hand away to wipe the occasional tear from my face, letting them slide down my cheek and drip onto the carpet. I wanted to cuddle with you. You wanted to play. I had to call my parents too so Mom took you upstairs and you fell asleep on her.
Going to bed that night I was wishing I would wake up and remember that this was all part of a bad dream. I guess that is the great thing about having a bad dream. You wake up and there is an instant when you think the dream was real, but then you really come to and you remember with delight that none of that bad stuff you dreamt about happened. But the next morning it was the opposite. I came out of a great night of sleep and then as soon as I remembered the new reality I wanted to go back to sleep. I wanted to forget again. It was so good, that peace I had during sleep, and now it had slipped away and I did not want to face the day without it.
To be continued…