The day of the ultrasound, my mother and youngest brother (age 10 at the time) drove down from their home a couple hours away to be part of the moment. My youngest brother was just as certain I was pregnant with a boy as I was that we were having a girl. All the important things were checked during the ultrasound (all very normal and healthy, I might add). Then the ultrasound tech announced that this little one was indeed a girl. I was thrilled. My brother, however, was not. He asked how we knew. He stated that we might be wrong. Or that when the baby was born, it might really be a boy instead. He was not too happy when we assured him she indeed was a girl and would remain so. I don't think he quite believed us.
Today I was reflecting on that day in June. It was so much fun. I loved being pregnant. We were so excited about the baby (girl or boy). It's crazy how much joy the news of being a mom brings. It was such a happy time for us. Now, I cherish all the ultrasound pictures as those were the last we have of her alive. I do not want thoughts of Lydia to be surrounded with sadness. I want to celebrate her life and remember the joy of her presence as well as the pain of losing her.
|These are pictures of the television screen during the ultrasound.|
Not as clear as the ones printed by the ultrasound tech, but easier to post.