In spite of my fight to hold them back, a single tear had managed to escape from the growing pools in my eyes. I quickly wiped it away as I continued to pace nervously around the corner of the building where I work, just out of view of any curious coworkers who may have peeked out from behind the tinted windows, and waited for my wife to arrive with our boys and her mother. I could feel my arm trembling as I lifted it to glance at my watch. Although it really seemed like hours, it had been only about fifteen minutes since I received her call, and as I continued to wait I was reminded of the miscarriage and the realization that what starts out as just another day can quickly and tragically transform into a terrible milestone in your life.

 

It was grey and wet that morning, not unusual for April, but a perfect accompaniment for what was to come. I got up for work at the usual time and put on the same work uniform that I always wear, as my wife prepared herself and my two sons to go to her regularly scheduled prenatal check-up. She dropped me off at work just as she would any other day that she needed the car for something, and I continued my regular routine. There was nothing out or the ordinary happening at work. Even the ring of my cell phone was expected a couple hours later. It would be Tammy, my wife, calling to give me the usual information. She would tell me the baby’s heart rate, weight, and any other vitals that the doctor would mention, followed by how her mother was driving her nuts and the boys were fine. Unfortunately, that is not what did happen when the phone rang.

 

At the first sound of Tammy’s voice, I could tell that something was wrong. Her voice was shaky and she sounded as though she would burst into tears at any moment. At first she would only tell me that she needed me to leave work, but not why. She wanted to spare me the feelings of pain and despair that she herself was going through at that very moment. She had a miscarriage once before that devastated us both, but this was too far into the pregnancy to be a miscarriage. What then? She finally broke down and explained to me that because there was some question as to the baby’s position in the womb, the doctor had brought in a portable ultrasound machine. The doctor found that our baby’s head was abnormally large and suspected hydrocephalus. We would need to go to Children’s Hospital for tests.

 

I let my boss know what was happening and he allowed me to leave; it was perhaps the first time that he had ever responded to me without using some form of sarcasm. I grabbed my jacket, clocked out, and headed right out of the front door as fast as I could walk, despite the fact that my ride would not be arriving for at least another forty-five minutes. I wanted to just fall to my knees and cry, but instead I went around the corner and down to the end of the building which faced the parking lot entrance and no one could see me. The grey sky and the cold, wet weather now seemed perfectly fitting.

 

For nearly an hour I stood there waiting. I thought about the miscarriage. I wondered just what hydrocephalus was and what it meant for my poor little baby. I thought about what Tammy must also have been going through. I thanked God for blessing us with two perfectly healthy little boys while egotistically wondering why it was that he was now punishing me this way. Most of all, I just paced around checking my watch obsessively and feeling completely helpless. I wished for it to be the typical day that it had started out to be. Finally, they arrived.

 

Tammy had been instructed to go home and wait for a representative of the hospital to call us and let us know when we could get in and who we needed to see. Even though we just wanted to get to the hospital and find out what was to become of our helpless baby, we followed the instructions and headed home. At home we waited and spent our time taking turns comforting each other and looking up as much information about hydrocephalus as we could find on the internet. Eventually, we got the call telling us to come in, but the waiting and worrying had really only just begun. From the hour long drive to the hospital, to the various tests and meetings with different specialists who had confirmed the hydrocephalus, the rest of the day had become filled with long periods of waiting followed by more and more bad news about our baby’s fragile condition. It was now officially one of the very worst days of my life in contrast to the very average day that I had expected earlier.

 

After several weeks of waiting and many more trips down to Children’s Hospital for continuous testing and examinations, Katherine Mia Gloyd was born on May 11, 2006. She looked beautiful and surprisingly normal considering the degree of her hydrocephalus. All of the doctors seemed amazed at how healthy she was even though they still had to insert a shunt into her head, and they all commented on how strong she was. I am very thankful that things eventually turned out well, but every time that I look into Katie’s beautiful little eyes, I am reminded of how what seems to be just another typical day can turn into one of the worst days of your life in the time that it takes to answer a telephone.