One year ago, these were the last happy hours of my pregnancy. My world didn't crash down until 2 or 3 in the afternoon. I wish I remember what I did that morning. I know that I didn't clean what was left a mess from Christmas morning. I think I played with my new iPad. I have evidence that I took my very last pregnancy picture. I have one clear memory of Before that day. Hub and were laying in bed, playing with the iPad watching the YouTube video "I'm Santa and I Know It", laughing and laughing. Hub leaned over and told Baby that his parents were out of their minds. We laughed again and talked about how we were already scaring the child for life. We were so happy.
I missed the call from my OB, and called back as Hub drove out of the driveway. That's when the bad stuff started. They joy was sucked out and the terror moved in. 1:5 for T18, disaster. We knew we wouldn't carry to term a baby with such a poor prognosis, to watch a baby die in my arms was too much.
One year ago, I had my last scan and my amnio. We didn't get any pictures and I regret that. Afterwards, we went to dinner and bought an iPad case. I was told to take it easy, but I just knew it wouldn't matter. I didn't drink with dinner though, there was a bit of hope left.
One year ago, I took it easy. Hub wouldn't let me off the couch. I cried.