in my father's arms

Today has been a rough one for me. I found out that our unborn baby girl, our little Lily, does have spina bifida. They do not know how severe it is, or what her complications will be. But they do know, without a doubt, she has the birth defect.

I had a feeling there was something wrong during the ultrasound... the technician was super peppy and very talkative until she started measuring Lily's spine. She immediately stopped talking me through her measurements and started clicking away, and once she began speaking again her speech took on a strained tone.

The doctor walked into the room and confirmed my biggest fear... Spina Bifida. My 1% chance turned into a 100% sure thing in a few seconds. His manner of conversation was off putting as always but I didn't much care at that point, I just wanted to know what to expect, what to do next, where did I do go from here... but he had no answers for me. No odds this time. 

The rest of the appointment was a blur, I was immediately nauseous and focused all my energy on trying to stay composed. I dug my thumbnails into the skin of my other fingers to transfer my thoughts from my eyes welling up with tears to the pain I was voluntarily creating. I thanked him for his time and walked out of the office like a zombie. I made it out into the hall, down the elevator and to the exterior doors before the tears started streaming down my cheeks. I could barely see when I made it to the car. I unlocked the door and slumped into the seat. I sat there blank for a minute before I just relaxed and let the pain, fear and anxiety just explode out of me. I have never heard myself cry like that before... it is not a pretty sound! I noted it and kept going. I sat there wailing and praying and trying to decide how long I was going to let this go on. The crying stopped, I don't know how long it lasted but it stopped and I fell into a numb state of being. I couldn't call my husband, he was in class and if I called him, it would just stress him out, and bad news could wait. But I needed to talk to someone, so I called my mom. She was immediately on her way to me, regardless of my assurance I was ok to drive. She showed up jumped in the car and hugged me. My darling mother, with her always ready to listen ears and shoulder to cry on.

My father brought her to me. I half expected him to wave to me from the car as he drove away, not sure why, he isn't that kind of man and definitely not that kind of father. He walked straight to me, and not saying a word he took me into his arms. I had managed to not cry again until that point. Then as he held me the pain I had buried earlier resurfaced, but this time it had an outlet. I sobbed uncontrollably as he held me; and as I cried into his shoulder it felt as if he was taking it on for me... if only for a second, it wasn't my burden to bear anymore. It was the most comforting thing I could have asked for, and yet I didn't have to ask. He was just there for me. In that moment I was 4 again and he had just picked me up because I fell off my bike. In my father's arms was just where I needed to be.