He Takes My Heart With Him

Our Perinatalogist

Let me say right away, I loved our perinatalogist. This man has a job that must be one of the hardest professions there is. His whole career focuses on telling parents that their baby has problems and then guiding them in what he thinks will be their baby's best care. He must see more tears and have to deliver more devastating news than we could ever comprehend. My respect for this man encompasses who he is and what he does.

For our first appointment with him, we had to have an ultrasound done at his office. Same scenario as before. A technician came in, did a full set of pictures on the baby, and then asked us to wait for Dr. R. I wiped my stomach off and sat up, sitting cross-legged on the cot. My husband was sitting in a chair by my side, and I could see in his face that he didn't have anything to offer this time. We were feeling beaten down and it was so hard to get up.

And, then, the door to the examining room opened and this young doctor walked in. He was probably in his late thirties and had dark brown hair and a goatie. His dark brown eyes surprised me. They didn't have an air of seriousness about them. A look that said he was about to break our hearts. Instead, he seemed jovial. Full of amusement and life and good spirits. He smiled and welcomed us like we were exactly the people he had wanted to meet. He held my hand for a moment after he shook it, and I felt . . . safe. This man would help us. He would tell us about our baby and figure out what to do next. He would guide us through this pregnancy like a cherished friend. I thank God for this doctor who could laugh in the middle of our crisis and I didn't hate him for it. Instead, he made us feel like everything was okay, again. We were just parents-to-be and that was wonderful. God, bless this man and touch his life, as he has touched so many others.