He cleared his throat. “The scans suggest that there is a problem with the ventricle of the left chamber, which hasn’t developed properly.”
Her own heart stabbed.Lord?
“And—”
There was more?
“—there is some issue with the spinal cord, which suggests…”
He went on to use words like spina bifida and hydrocephalus, just like Dr. McKinnon had warned.No, no, no,her heart screamed.
“…why we want to send you to the city’s children’s hospital pediatric unit where their specialized equipment will give a clearer indication.”
They had to have this wrong. Had to.
“And we want you to schedule it soon. Like tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” she repeated, mind awhirl.
“Then you will know what your best option is.”
Her heart wrenched. Surely, they didn’t mean to imply—?
“It’s probably best you have your husband with you.”
“He… he’s away.”
“He should probably return for this.”
Her hands were shaking, her legs like jelly, when Ange finally was re-admitted, and they exited. “Sar?”
Sarah managed to share the most pertinent truths, which saw Ange clasp her in a hug.
“Don’t fear the worst. We trust God, remember?”
“They want me to go tomorrow.”
“So soon?”
“They said…” She gulped. “They said it’s better to know the result sooner, as it gives more options.”
Ange gasped. “Oh, Sar.”
“Dan…”
“I’ll call him now.” Ange dug out her phone.
She was a ghost.The sense of unreality that had set in yesterday had tripled when they saw the specialist, a head professor of prenatal and pediatric medicine, who had called Dr. McKinnon in. If it wasn’t for Dan’s warm hand grounding her, she might fly away, never to return, as the professor’s shocking words revolved around her brain.
The left side of the heart wasn’t growing. There were definite signs of spinal issues. Hydrocephalus. One of these neural tube defects might indicate a virus, but the fact the ‘fetus’ had all three simultaneously suggested a genetic issue, and therefore the ‘fetus’ was unlikely to survive. “Just as I expected,” Dr. McKinnon said. “If it survives, it’s a matter of hours, not days.”
Delivered in an unemotional manner with no empathy. No sympathy. No sense that their worlds were falling apart.
“You’ve only got two weeks, then it’s a different matter.”
Dan cleared his throat. “Two weeks?”
“To terminate the pregnancy,” Dr. McKinnon replied, as if it was obvious that was what should be done. “After twenty weeks it becomes more complicated, and there are government forms and death certificates and the like.”
