3. Thats the number of nurses who had come into the room at the time of my anatomy scan. I was so clueless, I really didn’t suspect anything until the last nurse told me the doctor would be with me shortly. At that moment, I didn’t know what to think, but just the thought that something was not right immediately caused my eyes to well up with tears. What did I do? Was it something I ate? My mind was spiraling.

“We are unable to find the babies forearm”. My body went into shock and immediately started scheming up ways to cope with what was going on. After a long discourse of what they had found and what my options were, the only thing i thought to ask was if only one arm had been affected. As if that would ease the weight of every terrifying thought that rushed through my head in that moment. Time stood still in that room. What made it worst? Every nurse, including the doctor himself, made themselves so cold and unattached to my situation. While I can sympathize that it was the end of an extremely long work day for them, I couldn’t fathom but contain my emotions from feeling that it was the beginning of a painful road for me.

Amber, one of my close friends waited in the car for me while I was at this appointment. She was suppose to hold the secret of the gender reveal. Little did she know, along with my husband, that I was returning back from that appointment with something much more unexpected (P.S. we never found out the gender that day).

I wept. I wept the entire ride home. No music. No talking. I just wept. Why me? Why anyone really? But why me? Why us?

As a believer, in hard circumstances, I think our faith immediately taps into this supernatural understanding of things and we begin declaring and prophesying how God will make this right. But for me, that moment didn’t happen until much later. I couldn’t believe this was my story.

We began telling our family and friends one by one. With every interaction we were met with tears, comforting words and their prayers. But even then, it seemed as though we were drowning in our own pity because noone could really understand how much this hurt.

4 weeks. Thats the amount of time we had to decide whether we were going to terminate this pregnancy or not. Abortion has never been something I’ve thought of because it personally just never sat right with me. It doesn’t align with what and whom I believe in. But finding myself in this predicament and feeling this agonizing pain of having failed, not only my baby, but my husband and family, I couldn’t help but to think.. …. How terrible would it really be?