You know, I feel for the doctors who know that they are about to have to give parents or patients some troubling news. There we were, sitting in a pregnant (pun intended) silence as the perinatologist waved the ultrasound wand back and forth across my belly, looking at my baby’s heart from every possible angle. I felt like blurting out, “Ok, I know something is wrong. What is it?!” But instead we waited as the silence stretched out forever and I contented myself with praying.
First of all, the baby is a girl! Just call us the Bennets; although, quite frankly I don’t much like the idea of being Mrs. Bennet. I promise not to call one of my daughters “the beautiful one” and try to force one of them to marry her cousin.