As promised, Tanya called me back on Tuesday. Her call came late in the afternoon and Russ was home. I handed Madeleine to him as I glanced at the familiar number on my phone and I perched on the couch, looking out the window. I half wished I’d grabbed our calendar to remove the guesswork from my expectation of a re-scheduling of the blood test.
In the very short time I’d had with Tanya, I already appreciated her clear and informative approach to genetic counselling. It’s so rewarding to see someone so well suited for their role. Her voice was friendly and we went through the standard niceties of how are you, etc. Her tone shifted ever so slightly and she asked, “Is this a good time, do you have a few minutes to talk?” The answer to her question came out of my mouth, as my heart suddenly raised a red flag and began to wave it in the pit of my stomach. “Yes, now’s a great time….Russ is home.”
I tried to compensate for my gut reaction by focusing the conversation on the reschedule. “Are we going to have to reschedule?” I asked, suddenly hopeful the answer was yes.
“Actually, the lab has sent the results, and the reason they are late is that they wanted to verify and be sure of their findings.” Again, my voice carried a tone of confidence as I heard myself respond, “Oh, okay…..they have actual results?” Inside, my truest self knew and the red flag no longer waived, it just stood, certain of the news that was about to be heard.
The bliss of not knowing suddenly shattered as Tanya gently, yet clearly explained, “The results are showing a high risk of Down Syndrome.”
There it was. The bliss was gone and the words Down Syndrome took it’s place, causing my mind to grasp for some level of certainty. I suddenly became conscious that Russ was holding Madeleine and listening to my side of the conversation. I don’t know why that silly voice of mine continued to carry on the conversation as though there was nothing noteworthy happening…..or perhaps it conveyed a fore-knowledge of the news. Almost cheerfully, I said, “Oh, alright. So now what?”
I could hear Tanya’s slight surprise at my tone and acceptance of the news. She didn’t miss a beat though, “We would like to have you come back if that’s possible because we will do another scan to determine a more accurate level of risk for Down Syndrome. Could you come in tomorrow?”
When I hung up the phone, I could feel a numbing sensation washing over me. Russ looked at me inquisitively and all I knew to say was, “It’s not good hun. It’s Down syndrome.” There was a nonsensical thought that circled my mind as I looked at Russ absorbing the news. Am I the cause of this? It’s my fault he now has to face this. What is he thinking of me right now?
Of course, those thoughts were straight from the destroyer of all good things. They were planted to bring shame and drive a wedge between me and Russ. But Russ’s gentle and tender love immediately removed those fears and silenced the enemies voice. We sat together, I cried and we just let the likely possibility sink in. Our baby has Down syndrome.