It's all OK ... for now

On our way south from Berrysburg, I called the emergency number. The same doctor we've been meeting with the past few times was on-call. Thank goodness.

He returned my phone call asking why the heck was I calling him? I explained the problem and that the bleeding had pretty much stopped by now. He sighed. I couldn't interpret what that meant. He told me to call the office tomorrow and schedule another ultrasound.

"Laura, if it gets worse, and I know you know the drill by now, call me back." (Not the words I wanted to hear exactly.) "Stay off your feet and relax, you hear?"

Brent and I were in store for another sleepless night.

The appointment was at 2:10 p.m. Friday. Nervously, I spouted prayers from heart as we drove to the office. As we walked in hand-in-hand, the sun came out for a split second. I took it as a sign. I need it to be a sign.

The same technician who told us about Morgan's passing called my name to come back. Crap, I thought to myself. This guy is bad luck. I want the woman who gave us the good news on Wednesday. Where is she???

I laid back in the unforgettable brown fake-leather chair. He pulled out the jelly as I lifted up my sweater slightly. Brent took his position to my right squeezing the feeling from the left hand.

Technician: "There's the egg sac."
Laura: "And there's no baby, right?"
T: "Wait a minute. Here's the baby ..."
L: "With no heartbeat, right?"
T: "... and there's the little heartbeat going about 128 beats per minute."

He said there's really no explanation of why the red bleeding occurred. But, he said, there is a 2 percent chance of having a miscarriage after seeing the baby's heartbeat on the ultrasound. My eleation subsided. So ... that's what happened with Morgan? We saw the heartbeat at six weeks, four days. The baby died at eight weeks, six days.

He just told us our baby is six weeks, four days. My heart sank a little more. He said that the first objective was to make it past the point of the miscarriage. And the second, to make it to the second trimester.

Is it possible that we've used up all of our blessings and good luck? For the sake of this child, I pray not.