Our lives are split in two. Like a large gaping wound separating decades of time, our lives suddenly changed forever on February 21st, 2012.
The day started with a blanket of nervous anticipation enveloping our household. It was the day we were going to find out...find out if our little baby to come would prefer blue or pink. Everyone had an opinion, the boys expected to become the dominant force in the home after HIS arrival. However, the girls were subtle in their confidence that the new addition would add just enough feminine to control the home forever.
The time for the ultrasound came and we all looked on in shear delight and excitement. The technician asked, "well, would you like to know what you're having?" a collective "YEAH!" was the energetic response she invited. It turns out, Mom knew all along...our precious little angel to come...would most certainly be very fond of pink.
In all the excitement, we almost overlooked the concern that suddenly swept over the technicians face. It was clear that she saw something very wrong with the images she was so meticulously reviewing. "What are you looking for?" we asked. "Just making sure everything is where it's supposed to be," she replied vaguely. But something about the look on her face and the time she spent analyzing the shape of our little girls head made us uneasy. "Does everything look alright?" we asked. "From what I can tell, but the radiologist will have to look it over," she said with an air of uncertainty that she failed to hide. "Congratulations," she said as we left the room. "Thank you so much," we replied...and we left with a false sense of hope and comfort that would fade as quickly as it appeared.
We spent the next few hours celebrating the news...calling family...texting friends...enjoying the prospects of a wonderful knew life to come. We enjoyed lunch together and talked about baby girl names...never fully agreeing on one...but pacifying those making the suggestions by complimenting the originality of their creations...then quickly offering a seemingly more appropriate name.
Then...it was time for the routine OB/GYN appointment. We arrived early and were quickly brought back to the exam room. I will always remember looking up and my beautiful wife...as in love as we've ever been...basking in the wonder that our love has once again created life.
The doctor walked in...shook my hand firmly...and sat down. He let out a big sigh and spoke words that I will foerever wish he could take back. "Well, I'm really worried about your baby girl."
The world stopped turning. In that moment, there was nothing else in the world that mattered. The triviality of current challenges caused them to fade from existence and suddenly...everything we ever knew...changed. It was like this doctor took a sword and split the timeline of our lives in two. When it comes to the words he spoke...there will forever be...before we heard them...and after.