The Ultrasound

Taylor had her well child checkup on a Friday.  When the doctor did the tummy check where they push and prod on it, he kept doing it for a really long time.  Then he started thunking and listening in a certain spot and pushing some more.  He very seriously told me that something was pushing Taylor’s liver forward.  I had always wondered why they did those tummy checks, and I suppose in that moment, I found out why. I’m a very optimistic person, so I tried to reason in my mind, what could be causing her liver to be pushed forward.  But deep down I knew it wasn’t good.  All those gut feelings were being answered.  The doctor ordered an ultrasound.  It was scheduled for the following Monday.  

Even in the most difficult times, Gods hand is at work.  My parents visiting from Utah that very weekend, was definitely, his hand of providence.  They were at our house for a couple days and then heading to Minnesota on Saturday.  I asked my mom if she could stay and go to the ultrasound with me.  Little did we know, that short visit would turn into almost a year and a half…

I took Taylor to the ultrasound.  It’s funny the weird little things you remember when tragedy strikes.  I specifically remember having a conversation with one of my best friends.  She went to the same pediatrician and we were discussing how the doctor doesn’t prescribe or do things for no reason, and how him ordering an ultrasound had me worried.  Almost as soon as we got home from the ultrasound, I got a call from the doctor. I remember going into the bathroom so that I could hear him over my noisy household.  He told me they found a large mass in her abdomen.  I started having an out of body experience from shock while he was talking to me.  I could hear him saying to pack bags, he was calling Blank Childrens and ordering scans and tests, we would be there for a few days.  Then he told me to call Randy from work and that he needed to go with me.  The doctor paused and said “are you ok, Julie?” I’m polite to a fault, so I don’t remember what I said, but I DO know it was polite.  I hung up with the doctor and walked out into the living room.  My mom was there.  You know how when you were little and you would hurt yourself, but you wouldn’t start crying until you got to your mom?  That’s what happened.  I walked out of the bathroom shaken, but dry eyed.  Then I saw my mom and the dam broke.  I couldn’t stop crying. I went and woke Randy up (he was working third shift at the time so he was home sleeping).  Then I packed our bags.  I was shaking so badly it was hard to function properly.  I was VERY pregnant and could feel my stomach getting super tight, over and over from the stress.  We walked out to the living room and I picked Taylor up.  I hugged her and kept having thoughts like “what is even happening?”, “how can she have a mass?” “I wish I could reach into her tummy and take it out” “can we go back to before?” Tears were streaming down my face.  At some point my dad arrived again and I remember him snapping a picture of us.  Then we loaded up and headed to the hospital.  It was the most silent ride we ever had, both of us had fears slamming through our minds.  I never let my imagination entertain cancer.  The mass, in my mind was benign.  Our 18 month old did not have cancer, no way!