I pulled my left sock up just a bit. I rarely wear socks, and I get a bit self-conscious when I do; I like to make sure they are the same height before I leave the house. The phone rang. It was Dr. Hill's nurse and I assumed she was calling to confirm my appointment for the following week.
"Hi!"
"Hi, Mrs. Shea. It's Theresa at Dr. Hill's office."
"Yes, ma'am! How are you?"
"Oh, I'm fine. I'm calling because your afp blood test came back positive and I've scheduled an appointment for you with Dr. Williams at TMH with the Maternal-Fetal Medicine on June 26th at 10am and if you have any questions or need to change the appointment time you can call them directly have a nice day."
I didn't omit punctuation there. That's how she said it. Between that day and this one I've become familiar with all the different ways people deliver bad news. The Run-On-Drive-By is when they neutrally state the facts in a clear and concise manner that does not allow room for follow-up questioning. It's very efficient and not at all rude; it just kind of passes the buck on to another person.
I flipped the phone closed. I took a swig of water. I put the phone in my pocket and I tied my shoes. I walked to the gym to indulge in a 20 minute elliptical episode. I walked back home and I took a shower. I brushed the tangles out of my hair and I put on my makeup. I put on my maternity clothes and I got in my car. I drove to Havana and I looked at antique baby furniture.
I did everything in a deliberate way because I wanted the blood in my veins to begin flowing normally again. I concentrated on the MEness of it all because I knew there may never be ME time again.
We had been so happy, the three of us! Jono and DeeDee and our daughter: The Sheas. We had never made plans and we didn't always do things the correct way but we always made it right. We didn't plan on having another child, but we weren't planning on not having another child either, so the pregnancy wasn't unwelcome. It happened on Friday, April 13th, 2012, right after we saw "The Hunger Games" and ate at Albert Provence while our daughter was in school. I kind of think I should have known. Our daughter was conceived the day after Christmas when my husband missed his flight to Oklahoma and she has hit milestones at Christmas ever since. It would only make sense for our son to have been conceived on a traditionally unlucky day.
I strolled alongside the train tracks in Havana, kicking at the dusty grass and stubbing the toe of my shoe against the dandelions. Strange: the actions called to my mind a memory of myself doing something similar when I was a small child, growing up in small town Tennessee. There was a train depot in Gallatin, where a farmer's market would convene on the weekends. There was a place inside the depot for children to play, with a little door leading from the red caboose to the scorched summer grass outside.
I wanted my children to have similar memories. I don't know if children with Down Syndrome process experiences the same way.
I drove home in time to put a beef stew in the crock pot and pick our daughter up from school. She had a great day that day and Jono did, too. We had a fun evening at home that night and our daughter went to bed on time with her teeth brushed and no tantrums. Jono and I read for a little while in companionable silence. It had been about 9 hours since I got the call yet I hadn't said anything to him yet. I love him and I trust him and I knew he wouldn't be weird about having a son with Down Syndrome. It's just...
I don't know.
So I waited until he was done reading and I snuggled next to him. I told him what Theresa said when she called and then we were both silent.
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