When I found out that I was pregnant, I could not believe that I was going to be a mother. My life was about to change dramatically. My older sister had always told me about the morning sickness, and the sudden urges to raid the refrigerator. Those were the only real symptoms I never experienced. I always took things for granted, and never really stop to think that there was ever anything wrong.
On the day of my fifth month doctors appointment a sonogram was scheduled to determine the sex of my baby. Once we went into the room where the sonograms were held, it was time to see what we were waiting for. As the woman began the procedure, she let me know I was having a little boy. When she started to do the measurements she had such an awkward facial expression, as if there was something wrong. For some reason, she thought she needed some assistance from her supervisor. After the second look had taken place we were shown to the waiting room for a few minutes. The doctor’s appointment was just not turning out to be such a simple routine anymore.
After fifteen minutes of waiting, I was taken into another doctor’s office to get the details of the sonogram. The doctor began to explain that there was some kind of birth defect causing an abundance amount of fluid in the abdomen of the fetus, which is called fetal ascites. He said that we needed to run more tests, labs, and also an amniocentesis to see what was causing this isolated event. Until now, I had had this image of a picture perfect pregnancy, which changed within moments.
The results were finally in from all the appointments I had attended. I was now twenty-four weeks into my pregnancy, and I was not feeling too good. When the doctor came into examine me, I was pale as a ghost. The doctor began to explain that the baby had transmitted a fetal cytomegalovirus infection, which was a congenital disorder, characterized by hydrops, ascites, and other findings. Considering my overall appearance the doctor immediately ordered for another sonogram to be done to see what the effects of the virus were if any.
Once I went into to see the sonogragher, she was astonished to find that the fetal ascites was still there, but worse than before. The baby now had fetal hydrops, which is considered water on the brain. With any fetus, this was a for sure sign of brain damage.
That evening I went on-line to find out all that I could about this virus, and what I could do in order to prepare myself for the birth of an infant with severe issues. I came across a web-site, which stated that; cytomegalovirus is reversible in survivors. Most fetuses are born with mental retardation, motor handicaps, and hearing loss are expected long-term sequels. Depending on how far along into the pregnancy you are really determines the severity of the virus. I knew that getting to know my baby was my first priority. This was not going to be an easy thing to do considering the baby was not even born yet. I could only pray that he would be all right, but the odds were against him at this point.
Time was running out for him, as I began to get sick going into my twenty sixth week. I was admitted in the hospital for extremely high blood pressure. My doctor had scheduled another sonogram to be done, because he was a little worried that my kidneys would start to fail. During the procedure the doctor began to explain how hard it was to measure the fluid, and that the chances of survival were very slim. He wanted me to think about delivering the baby within the next few days, because I would only get worse as my blood pressure rises.
The time had finally come and I was exhausted. I did not know what to expect at this point, but I just wanted my baby to be all right. Deep down inside I knew that this was going to be a hard thing to get through. It was finally my turn in the operating room and I was scared. They had every single kind of specialist getting prepared for the inevitable.
Shortly after the delivery, the doctor came over to where my head was and said; “I sorry but there is nothing more for us to do”. I just started to cry. I felt like as a mother I just gave up on him. The virus had taken over his little body and he was just too unhealthy to survive. I was being a very selfish person by telling them to keep trying, but in the end he just was too fragile to hold on. So, I had to say that is was all right for them to stop.
During the months after is passing I realized that grief can make you a bitter person or grief can make you a better person. No matter how much I wanted to be a good mother to him, I already was. I cannot just take things for granted, because I may only get one chance. Even though we only had a few moments together it felt like eternity.

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