The Ride Begins...

December 16, 2013 was the day our world began to crumble. Originally, it was a day we had been looking forward to- our 18 week OB appointment where we would learn the gender of our baby. We had just returned from a week at my parents' beach house a few days earlier and were so excited. Josh had to work so my mom and sister-in-law accompanied me to Little Rock for the appointment. Prior to the ultrasound, we had to meet with a genetic counselor. Being a type 1 diabetic, I was considered a "high-risk" pregnancy though I had gone to extreme measures to make sure my blood sugar levels were immaculate. Anyway, as a "high-risk" they recommend genetic counseling to let you know of different birth defects that can occur. I felt like it was a huge waste of time, but sat across from the counselor politely nodding and halfway listening to his rehearsed speech. I foolishly thought "well this doesn't apply to me…birth defects happen to people who smoke or drink during pregnancy…that could NEVER happen to me." Wrong. After the genetic counseling, I finally got to have the big, much anticipated ultrasound. The tech was a sweet, bubbly girl who asked if I wanted to know the gender. I said, "if he or she will cooperate" she replied "oh, don't worry, he or she will!" After about a minute she just blurted out "It's a little girl!" Me, my mom, and sister-in-law all screamed with delight. Then she did the rest of the anatomy scan closely measuring each organ. I was mesmerized…oh her little heart beating away was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. I remember she had her little feet crossed and had her hands over her mouth. The tech was very quiet but I thought she was probably just concentrating. After about 20 minutes, she left and said, "the doctor is going to look over the images and should be in shortly." I thought, "Finally I can tell Josh!" We were all busy texting the happy news to family but after 30 minutes had passed, I  started to get a little worried. As soon as he came in the room I knew something was very wrong.

He wasn't my usual doctor. He was young and abrupt. He sat down and said "OK, so there were a few findings." I believe my heart jumped in my throat at that point. He wanted to look at her again to "make sure she doesn't have Spina Bifida." Yes he actually said that. "OK her spine looks good so that's a good thing but it doesn't explain her ventriculomegaly." Excuse me? Apparently, my sweet girl had enlarged lateral ventricles in her brain which they often see with Spina Bifida and hydrocephalus. He said we needed to monitor them regularly to make sure they were not worsening. He said, "let's start at the top and work our way down." He reiterated his concerns with her brain and said that was just the first issue and "let's continue." In my mind I was pleading "Oh please, please, let's not continue." I desperately wanted to rewind and go back to just being happy- to back before I heard my sweet, beautiful, perfect little girl had "a few findings." The next stop was her face. He said she had cleft lip and palate. Tears were threatening to run down my face. I couldn't catch my breath. He stated his concerns that she could have an underlying syndrome. He explained when there are multiple "anomalies" it is likely a chromosomal issue. He strongly urged me to have an amniocentesis done that day, but I couldn't wrap my mind around what he was saying. I finally composed myself and agreed to blood work to rule out Trisomies 13, 18, and Trisomy 21, more commonly referred to as Down Syndrome.

Somehow, we trudged through the worst Christmas ever and the next week I finally received a call from the genetic counselor that all of the blood work results were negative for any of the Trisomies. He still encouraged the amniocentesis so that I would have all the information needed to "make a decision."   He explained that although our baby didn't have any of those 3 Trisomies, it didn't mean she didn't have a possibly life-threatening syndrome. Josh and I were always incredibly pro-life, so we knew deep down that no matter the outcome, the decision to sustain her life was not our's to make. The following days, weeks, months were filled with tears. Tears of sadness. Tears of anger. Tears of guilt. Had I done something wrong? I tried my very best to manage my diabetes. I ate well- I mean I didn't even drink caffeine and for a coffee addict, that is a huge sacrifice. I took my vitamins. I exercised. What could I have done to prevent this for my daughter? I will never understand why this happened but I know that God is sovereign. He is good. He is merciful, and He was going to see us through this incredible devastation. Does that mean I didn't break down and sob or yell at God? Nope. I was very angry and hurt that He had allowed this to happen to my daughter and there are still moments I question Him. I want to be completely transparent with you. I would love to say I was praising Him in the midst of our trials but I'm not going to lie and speak Christianese. It sucked. It still sucks, but we have learned so much through this journey and I can honestly say we have seen God's goodness. You grow closest to Him when you are so consumed by sadness, grief, anger, that you cannot possibly continue living without Him. There were days I would have to grab my Bible from my bedside table to give me the strength to actually get up in the morning. My pregnancy was marked with incredible sadness and uncertainty. I was so nervous to meet our girl but also so excited. We had researched and thought we had prepared ourselves for how the birth process would be. How wrong we were...