“I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo.
"So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”
-The Fellowship of the Ring
Some moments in life make you forget how fleeting it is. They're sweet, and full, and trick you into believing that all of it lasts forever. Other moments are stark reminders that this place is not our home, and a lot of the time, these moments hurt.
There is no blame to shift for these moments. In fact, they are gifts from God so that we don't become too comfortable down here on this earth. They can be confusing though. You are suddenly left dazed and wondering what just happened and how you could have been so blissfully oblivious seconds before.
Ryan and I had one of those moments. After seeing the ultrasound of our twelve-week old baby for the first time, we were absolutely thrilled. We sat in the doctor's office, waiting for the doctor for about thirty minutes, but we didn't care. She could take all day. We were having a baby, and on the little pictures we held in our hands, it looked perfect.
Then the doctor appeared. She apologized for taking a long time, then sat down and said something that changed our lives from that moment on: "There is an abnormality in your baby's ultrasound." It was like my worst fear had been realized - there was something wrong with our baby. Ryan came and stood next to me, holding my hand. I don't know if he did that for me or for his own comfort. The doctor went on to explain what this "abnormality" was and what it could imply for our little one. As she spoke, I could feel a grip around my heart tightening and my stomach turned. I thank God for the artificial calm He gave me in that room so that I didn't break down as the doctor spoke to us.
Cystic hygroma. The doctor was not an expect on the topic (probably because the chances of having a cystic hygroma during pregnancy is 0.2-1%), so she promptly made us an appointment with a specialist at Texas Children's Hospital. I could hardly believe that our little baby was hardly twelve weeks old and already we were going to see a fetal specialist.
The genetic counselor explained in more detail what we already had researched after our first appointment. A cystic hygroma is the result of toxins being unable to leave the baby's body, so they form cysts (pockets of fluid beneath the baby's skin, like big blisters). Our baby's spans from its head to its butt, and the counselor counted about three of them. The cysts themselves are not the most alarming issue, although they can cause lethal stress to the baby. Rather, they are the result of an underlying, and oftentimes more serious, issue such as a chromosome disorder, a heart defect, a problem with the lymphatic system, or a recessive gene disorder. Each of these possibilities has its own host of statistics, none of which were positive.
What a surreal experience. I never thought that at twenty years old I would be sitting with my husband across a table from a lady telling us that there is a good chance our unborn baby will have Turner's Syndrome, Down Syndrome, Trisomy 18, Trisomy 16, or a fatal heart disorder. Of course, nobody expects for these times to come. As Gandalf wisely said to Frodo, "...so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to deide is what to do with the time that is given us."
Desperate for some kind of ray of hope, Ryan finally said to the genetic counselor, "Isn't there a possibility at all that something could just not be developed all the way? I mean, the baby is so small..." The lady nodded, "Yes, of course, it could be that something just has a kink in it, and as the baby grows it will correct itself and you'll have a perfectly healthy baby. But that is usually not the case with a cystic hygroma." So there it was. Our tiny, almost impossible chance.
Since that Tuesday, we have met life a day at a time. Some evenings after a tiring day or being nauseaus and having to explain to everyone that, "Yes, I am pregnant, but the baby has this problem..." I can only come home and burst into tears. Looking at that sweet baby's profile, it kills me to think that I may never get to hold it or kiss its cute little nose or get to know its wonderful personality. But I feel like I need to explain it to people. Maybe so that they understand a little better where I am coming from. Ryan and I are in a strange limbo where we love our baby more than anything, but we can't exactly expect to have a healthy baby. The list of possibilities looms dauntingly over our heads no matter how positive we choose to be. Ryan has been the best at this. He has his moments when it gets too heavy for him, too, but God has given him a strength that allows him to encourage me and to give me hope when I'm starting to lose it.
It's confusing becuase I don't know if I am to trust that God is going to answer my prayers with a resounding yes, or if I am to be assured with the promise that my baby is in His hands. Of course, I truly know that it is the second one, but knowing that the odds are against us takes my breath away. I have to cling to that promise that the Lord has our baby, and He is going to protect it no matter what. That, I do believe.
So now, we are waiting for the next two weeks to pass so we can go to the doctor and hear the heartbeat again. We look forward to that appointment with both hope and dread. Every day, I wonder if the baby is still alive inside me or if I've already lost it and don't know. Ryan and I desire to hear that heartbeat so badly! The Lord is definitely sustaining us, and our marriage has become stronger because of this period of trials we have been enduring. We know we are not worse off than most, so for that we are thankful. And we have each other, so whatever happens, we will be alright. :) The Lord is in control.
"Be strong, and let us fight bravely for our people and the cities of our God. The LORD will do what is good in his sight.”
2 Samuel 10:12
