I am finding that the smallest things have the biggest impact these days. Not sure I made it clear in my last blog post but we did accidentally find out the sex of our baby despite our best wishes not to know. It was the most crushing blow yet and it has left such an impact with me.

Let me take you back a few weeks when we were in the hospital and knowing that we were going to deliver our baby.  George and I made the conscience decision to disconnect from the baby as much as possible as it was what we needed to help survive the darkest hour. It was the only way we knew that would help us move on and after the baby was delivered it was helpful to not know if it was a boy or girl. I never once tried to picture a face or look at “blue” and weep or look at a baby girl and wish.  We had our last doctor appointment (last Monday) and the nurse brought us back to the room to see the doctor but before we saw him she sat down, looked at me and asked, “what did you name her?”

SMACK –  I was knocked back…I was shocked…I was heartbroken. I didn’t want to believe what I just heard and I tried my hardest at that moment to not let the flood of tears take over.  It was a hard fight but I was winning until she left the room. I lost it. George tried so hard to make it seem like she made a mistake and I tried to let myself believe him but somehow I knew in my heart that the nurse was right and on November 18th I gave birth to a little girl.

Our theory was confirmed one day later when my doctor called to reveal the genetic test results. He told us that our baby had Turner Syndrome which he had mentioned could be the case in our earlier conversations. In Turner Syndrome the baby (it only happens in girls) is born with one X chromosome and the other is either damaged, partially there or non-existent. I believe he mentioned in our case the other X chromosome is non-existent. And then couple that with all the other issues our baby girl had and you have what George referred to as our “anti-lottery.”

I feel like you have to know this back story for me to be extremely honest with my feelings from here on out on this blog. I’m going to struggle as I have been struggling this entire week with this little fact. I gave birth to a little girl. I am a mom to a baby girl. George is a dad to a baby girl. I have yet to not choke up when I say or even think that I gave birth to a baby let alone knowing the sex and calling it a baby girl. Yesterday we were at my in-laws getting storage boxes of our crap to bring back home and I opened one of the boxes and noticed something red. I pulled this red fabric out of the box and tears welled in my eyes. It was my favorite little red dress that was bought for my cousin, Athena. I asked my aunt if I could have it once Athena was done with the dress because I wanted when I had a daughter. I love that dress but when I held it up it hurt so bad because I did have a daughter and she will never wear this dress.

Am I mad at the nurse that slipped? No, it was an accident and either way when George looked up Turner Syndrome it was going to give us the same answer as Turner Syndrome only exists in girls. However, when George researched Turner Syndrome he called me immediately to tell me not to look it up as it only confirmed what the nurse had said and he would have taken that information to the grave if he had to. The only reason he didn’t was because I looked up other information about genetics and egg abnormalities and found out the same thing, Turner Syndrome only exists in girls.  I will say that I am upset about knowing the sex especially so soon after delivering the baby. I found out less than two weeks after delivery when I was preparing myself to either never know or to maybe find out 20 years from now. I guess that deserves some explanation as to how but I’ll leave it here – my mom has a “memory box” that has information about the baby that George and I don’t want to open. What is in the box? I don’t know and I don’t know if I want to look at least for a long, long time. I found out the sex and it broke my heart I can’t bear to know anymore right now.

Today I go back to the doctor and I’m hoping to be cleared to return to work. I know that returning to work and getting back into the “groove” will be extremely helpful to me. As I stated in my last post I pray for normalcy and my work-week routine. I want to get up in the morning, get ready for work, pick up my over-priced coffee, drive to work, check my email, chit-chat with the co-workers, contact my clients, meet with new contacts and look forward to another day and another week and another year.