Candid Chatter

Just Say It

Merry-Go-Round of Life April 2, 2009

One day I got a tattoo.

heidis-tattoo

I lost a baby via miscarriage and wanted a way to memorialize her (him?).
I believe she was a girl and I don’t know why.
Her name would have been Julia.
Julia Lyn Reed
(or Nathan if a boy)

I had nothing left of that tiny baby. After the D&C procedure, I struggled with depression and bouts of rage. I also lost my maternal grandmother just 2 weeks prior to losing my unborn baby. It was a tough season. I was deeply wounded.

I blogged about it often. Just click “All Things Tattoo” in the blue bar at the top to read through some of my struggles with miscarriage, loss, and grief.

Yesterday I was talking to a loved one on the phone. I suggested s/he read the Bible and highlighted a couple of books I thought would be fitting; one in the OT, one in the NT. After hanging up I felt a bit like a hypocrite. I haven’t read my Bible since a few days after Jack was born (FYI : It’s Jack, not Jax! — he is named after my late grandfather who was Jack too). So I meandered into my office and started to pick up my Chronological Bible that I read last year. I hesitated and looked at 2 other Bibles stacked on top of it. One is small, but thick and one is bigger and thinner. They are both NIV. I started to reach for the smaller, thicker one since it was on the top of the stack, but then changed my mind and grabbed the bigger, thinner one. Don’t know why really. I just felt compelled to read that one instead. It was even underneath the other one.

I noticed it had a paper bookmark in it and laid it on my kitchen table under Jack’s bouncer seat. I got interrupted several times before picking it up again. I opened to the page that was bookmarked. Psalms. I remember before we moved to this house I was working on reading the Psalms. I was trying to do my own little personal Bible study. Once we started the move, all was forgotten.

The Psalms I opened to were written by David. They all start out with him agonizing over something and crying out to God. They all end with him praising God regardless of his trial. They are hard Psalms for me to read because it is obvious that David was in agony. However, I am always hit by the fact that he ends these cries to God with praises for God despite his painful and stressful circumstances. He praised God no matter what.

Praise. There is a sacrifice of praise. Praising God through pain is the hardest thing I think I have ever done. I had a million “why” questions. A billion. Why did He let that baby die? Why, God, why? But my faith strengthened and my prayer life grew by leaps and bounds and my blog took off and I kept praising God despite the deep pain I was in. The pit. The lowest. Sadness. Agony. Despair. Yet, praises for the One who created me. Praises mixed with questions, but never did I doubt Him. Never did I turn my back on Him. Ever.

I noticed the paper bookmark was smooth and shiny. I took a closer look and realized it was folded. Jack made a little noise and his bouncer seat jiggled. I smiled as I opened the paper.

And there it was… a folded up, slick piece of paper with three ultrasound images of my Angel Baby.

Beneath my son’s bouncer seat sat my Bible. Inside that Bible was a page marked to Psalms written by David at one of the worst times in his life. That page was marked with three ultrasound pictures of my unborn baby who died and is undoubtedly in Heaven with the God of grace and mercy.

I do have the only pictures of that baby after all. I have them.
And I also have a tattoo. A story. A triumph. A new son.

A new son.
Jaxon would not be here if I hadn’t lost the other baby.
He was conceived 4 months after my loss.

New life. Renewed hope. The love of the Father raining down on His daughter.

And still there’s the promise.
Eternal life.

Someday I’ll see my unborn baby in Heaven. And then we will never be separated again.
Ever.

Sometimes there really is a happy ending.
Thank you Lord for the storms. Thank you Lord for the sun.
Thank you Lord for the Son… and for the son.

I love you! Amen.

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The Unanniversary – Part One December 11, 2008

Filed under: Life... The Way I See It — candidchatter @ 6:11 am
Tags: , , , , ,

This post will undoubtedly take on a life of its own. I have wanted, yet not wanted, to write it. Since November turned into December it has been lingering in my mind.

The unanniversary. The unbirthday. The one year mark of a tragedy within my heart.

In August of 2007, I was embarking on a mission. I was preparing our lives to adopt a Chinese baby girl. I had contacted several adoption agencies and whittled it down to three. I called my first choice and was told almost immediately that they would not take our case. Disappointed, but not shaken, I called our second choice. I was given encouraging news. We decided in April of 2008 we would start the process officially, but I was already getting “all my ducks in a row”. People were praying for us and I was seeking out those who had experienced the adoption miracle themselves. We were rolling.

A few weeks later my husband sat me down to tell me that he was not interested in adopting. I don’t remember the exact way he said it, but I do remember feeling like someone had just jerked a rug out from underneath me. What? What did you just say? You’ve been on board with this for 3+ years and you decide to tell me now that you aren’t interested? Not only that, he told me he was perfectly content with the two children we already have and didn’t want three.

Divorce crossed my mind. I won’t lie. It crossed my mind. I decided we were going to need Christian marriage counseling. I was not accepting this. We agreed on three children before we were married. Why the hell did you marry me then? You know I come from a big family. You know I want four children. You know that I compromised and agreed to three because you only wanted two and were willing to compromise and have three. What the hell just happened here and I’m not taking this lying down Mister Reed. We needed help.

In September we heard news that my ailing Grandmother was getting worse. We made the final decision to fly to Arizona at the end of October to see her one last time. She had never met our kids and we were excited to have the opportunity to introduce them to her. It was a somber trip, but worth every minute that we got to spend with our family.

Shortly after we returned life got back into full swing and we were so busy. Rich was preparing to go on a business trip. I was getting ready for the holidays. The kids were just their normal little selves.

Rich left for his trip. I did my thing with our kids. Then one day while driving in the car with both kids I didn’t feel right. I felt sick to my stomach and strangely aware of every smell around me which was making me even sicker. Uh oh. I was familiar with this feeling, but it had been awhile.

Nervously I pulled into the drug store parking lot feeling like a fool for even thinking this and dashed inside with both kids to buy a pregnancy test. Once done I rushed home to check the calendar.

Really? Really. I was late for my cycle. But since August my cycles had been wacko and way off schedule and twice I thought I was pregnant when I was actually only a week late. Maybe this was the same thing. Afterall, I was busy and stressed out and concerned for my marriage and my grandma and other things.

Rich was due to come home on Saturday. I took the test Friday morning. Brianna was with me. She had come into my room early in the morning and I told her Mommy has to go pee on a stick did she want to come too? She said she did and off we went. I was shaking. I was so nervous. I didn’t know what to expect. I thought if it’s negative I’ll just bury it in the trashcan and move on. If it’s positive I’ll be so happy, but Rich will be so ???. What? What would he be? Mad? Upset? Would he think I tricked him? Would he feel the same for this child as he does for the ones we planned? What would happen?

All this ran through my mind as I waited the 3 minutes to check the results.

Positive.

I was so excited. I hugged Brianna and we went to my bed and cuddled. I started planning what I was going to say to Rich the next day. I joked with God that He must like me better than Rich because He answered my prayers for another baby. I didn’t expect it would be a natural birth, but I was happy He decided it for me. Thank you Lord. Thank you. I didn’t have to fight so much for this baby afterall — it was in Your plan all along.

Rich came home. I waited until the kids were in bed for the night and then I told him the news. He felt badly that I was afraid to tell him. He assured me everything was well with him and he would love this child as much as the other two.

A few days later my grandmother died. That was the middle of November. I was happy we had the chance to tell her the news about our baby on the way before she passed. November was a hard month. I would have bouts of depression over my grandmother’s death. I knew it was better for her to have gone on, but it sure was hard when all of the memories came flooding in. I would sometimes just sit and cry for awhile.

Thanksgiving was fun. We met Rich’s family for breakfast at a nice local restaurant near the ocean. We had a great time and our nieces were so excited about the new baby that they were already asking me what names I liked. I remember telling them “if it’s a boy he’ll be Nathan and if it’s a girl she’ll be Julia”. I had already scheduled an ultrasound and was looking forward to it.

December promised to be busy. I was hosting our family’s Christmas dinner again. I started decorating right after Thanksgiving. Actually, I might have started before Thanksgiving. I can’t remember. I just know I was excited and couldn’t wait to start making the house glow with lights. The kids were enchanted. It was a magical time. Rich and I had burried our hatchet weeks before and life just felt like a fairytale to me. I had everything I wanted. Everything.

I went to my ultrasound and saw the baby’s heartbeat. Despite the brownish spotting I was experiencing, everything looked good I was told. My doctor called later that day to tell me that there was a pocket of fluid behind the yolk sac, but even though I’m not out of the woods yet most of the time these things resolve all by themselves. I saw the heartbeat so I was not concerned. A couple days later the spotting stopped and I felt fine.

December 10th I was up on a ladder putting up Christmas tree branches when I felt a little trickle. Hmmm. I went to the bathroom to check and was surprised to see pink. Not much. But definitely pink, not brown. I called the doctor.

December 11th I went in for another ultrasound. Pink can be something or it can be nothing. Red is the one that causes immediate worry. Just a routine ultrasound and we’ll send you on your way. Don’t worry they tell me. Just a routine ultrasound to see what’s going on with the yolk sac and that pocket behind it.

I was as jolly as I could be as I climbed up onto the table, laid down, and exposed my abdomen. The sonographer started with an external scan. I saw the baby. It looked so much bigger and its tummy was all round and bloated looking. Adorable. Sweet little thing I see you.

Wait. Something isn’t right.

Where is the heartbeat? Where is the fetal movement? Oh no. Oh no no no no.

“Honey, we need to go ahead and do an internal scan. Please go undress in the restroom from the waist down.”

Ok – maybe it’s too soon to do an external scan. Maybe. Hope. Fear. Hope. Cold sweat. Push away negative thoughts. Get on with it.

I was less jolly hopping up on the table this time. I put my feet in the stirrups, scooted my bottom to the edge, and waited for her to insert the probe.

Nothing. No heartbeat. No fetal movement. Cold.

Bless her heart she kept trying. She even pushed on my stomach to try to arouse the baby. I knew it was dead. I had seen my fair share of ultrasounds and I knew it. I wished she would just stop. Just stop. It’s gone. Let me leave.

She excused herself from the room while I got dressed. She told me she needed to talk to the doctor. I knew what she needed to do. I got dressed and sat down in the chair next to the table and just stared at the monitor. It was black now, but moments before that it held the final picture of my unborn child. The motionless, peaceful looking sweet tiny baby who I prayed for.

What is happening? Why?

I prayed for that baby! I prayed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You answered my prayer. Why did you take it from me? WHY???!! I would have taken him or her no matter what — whole, not whole, normal, not normal. Just give it back! Not fair. You are killing me. You are hurting me. Why would You do this? God, where are You now? Where???!!!!

She came back in, told me to drive to the other office and see my doctor, she expressed her sorrow for me, and I walked out of there on numb legs. As I passed through the waiting room I saw a pregnant mom followed by her 3 small children. I smiled at them and gulped the rock mountain that had grown in my throat.

I couldn’t get in my van fast enough. I whipped out my phone, called my husband, and as soon as he said hello I dissolved. I fought back the desire to throw fire at him over the phone. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT YOU DIDN’T WANT THIS BABY ANYWAY ARE YOU HAPPY NOW YOU ASSHOLE. I didn’t say that to him though. I felt it. I didn’t say it. I just cried and heard him tell me he was sorry and that he loved me and what do I want him to do. Call your family and tell them. I am making exactly one more phone call and then I’m not talking about it any more. I’ll see you when I get home from seeing the doctor.

I called my dad. My parents have lost 4 babies via miscarriage. I cried my heart out. He was so tender and loving and he understood like nobody else what I was feeling. He told me he would relay the news to the rest of my family and that he loves me. That day my Dad was my hero. I will never ever ever forget that phone call. Ever. He rescued me in that 5 minute conversation.

I saw the doctor. She told me to be at the hospital the next day so she could perform the D&C. Everything else was a blur. I called my best friend later that night. She has also experienced miscarriage loss. I didn’t have to say a word. She heard me crying when she answered her phone and said “oh my god, Heidi, when?”. She. Just. Knew.

December 12, 2008 was the day of the D&C procedure. That day my unborn, unmoving child was removed from my body. Gone. Empty. Rest in peace.

God please kiss him or her for me. Please tell that baby how much I already loved it. How much I wanted it. Please don’t ever let it forget me until I have the chance to hold it myself on Your side of heaven. Please God. It’s the least You could do.

I lost my grandmother November 13, 2007 and then I lost my baby December 11, 2007. I like to imagine the first person my baby got to see when he or she crossed over was my grandma. I like to imagine she held my baby and told him or her how she’d care for it until I could come myself. It’s probably a fantasy, but it’s how I like to play it out in my mind. It comforts me.

I don’t remember much about last Christmas. I know it was painful. I know I just wanted to get through it. I went ahead with our party plans, but I don’t really remember much about it. I was going through the motions for my children’s sake.

Depression soon followed. Bitterness in my heart towards my husband nagged at me. Anger. Hurt. Frustration. I kept in touch with my doctor. I started to research antidepressants. I was suffering.

I decided to memorialize my baby by getting a tattoo. On February 1, 2008 I did exactly that. You can view “All Things Tattoo” in the blue bar at the top of this page.

Part Two tomorrow.

 

The Name Game October 3, 2008

Filed under: Life... The Way I See It — candidchatter @ 9:46 am
Tags: , , , , , ,

Leave it to me.

When I was pregnant with Jeremy we had a boy’s name picked out — Nathan. We also had a girl’s name picked out — Ashley. Neither of them made the cut. Rich told me around my 8th month that he didn’t really like Nathan. Grrr. I could not sleep until we came up with a new name. Jeremy it is.

Two nights ago I told Rich I don’t like the name we’ve picked for a boy. It reminds me too much of someone who is a loser with a big fat “L”. LOOOOSER!! I hate it when this happens and I usually have him to blame. However, we are back to the drawing board for a boy’s name. We threw names at each other until almost midnight that night, laughing at our silly sleep deprived jokes. Still nothing. Well, we have one that I sort of like, but I’d rather LOVE it.

This is where you come in.

I decided this would be a phat contest! You have about half a chance to win. LOL! Well, cuz if it’s a girl then you all lose and her name will be Sara. Ha!! Anyway, this is a pick our baby’s name contest (if it’s a boy). If we like what you choose, your charity of choice will win $50.00 (charity must be for real and MUST accept online donations).

Just so you know — out of all the genius gender guessers in our circle of peeps only 2 have guessed girl. My doctor said “he” at the last ultrasound and then quickly changed that to “the baby”. My mother-in-law has also slipped the “he/his/him” in conversation from time to time (so much for keeping a secret — GRRR). Rich and I are both pretty sure it’s a boy. As I get bigger and bigger and bigger the pregnancy is starting to look and feel a whole bunch like when I was pregnant with Jeremy. I’ll spare you the gory details, but there are sick as heck things going on that happened exactly as they did when I was pregnant with him and I was spared this disgusto phenomenon while I was pregnant with his big sister.

Anyway — I’ll give you a few hints so you have a better chance.

  1. We do not like unisex names like Tracy, Lindsay, Jayden, etc.
  2. We do not like super popular names like Jacob, Joshua, Daniel, Michael, Austin, etc.
  3. We do not like JUSTIN anymore — that was the name I decided against
  4. We will not name him after Rich
  5. We like last names for first names
  6. We like names of cities
  7. We like 2 or more syllables
  8. We like names that can have a nickname — Brianna is Bree; Jeremy is Jay to us

Ok — that’s enough of the hinting. Get on with it you creative crazies and win your charity some dough.

 

Wee Little Wiggly One September 24, 2008

I am 23+ weeks gestation now. That means I just started my 6th month of pregnancy. What a glorious thing… to be more than halfway through. The baby is very active. In fact, we were watching a program last night on the Discovery Channel about women who have had babies who didn’t know they were pregnant. My husband and I were like..”how in the world do you not know you are pregnant esp when you get to the 6th month+??”. It boggled our minds. But the women were all educated and normal. One was even a firefighter. None were teenagers or disabled in any way. They honestly did not know they were pregnant until they had their babies. One woman was pregnant with twins. Sheesh!!

My unborn baby, just like his/her brother and sister, is quite the womb gymnast. I am starting to notice wake and sleep patterns. I haven’t noticed hiccups yet, but I’m sure that will come soon enough. I am getting anxious for us to meet beyond my skin. I wonder if this one will actually have blue eyes like me. I wonder if he or she will actually look like me. I wonder what he or she will be like. I wonder.

Today I have another level 2 ultrasound. Doctor L will be checking the status of the choroid plexus cyst. Hopefully it’s gone. He’ll also perform an echocardiogram (heart ultrasound) on the baby. I’m sure that will be quite tricky since we can’t control whether the baby is moving or not. With this kid… well, I’ll just say that it could take awhile. He told me to plan about 2 hours. My first babysitter bailed on me — and I didn’t find out until 6:30 last night. But I have awesome friends so I found another one by 7:30. Thank you EW!!!

I’ll let you all know later what went on. We are not particularly worried about the baby’s heart. This is more of a precaution. I was exposed to the coxsackievirus (hand, foot, mouth disease) while at a child’s birthday party. Doctor L wants to be sure my little one’s heart is fine. At the last level 2 ultrasound everything looked just fine. Like I said, a precaution. I always lean in the direction of erring on the side of caution. So I’m game for another go at it. Plus, I get to see the little wee one again and that is awesome for me.

Have a lovely day. It’s raining here in south Florida. The yard needed it so I won’t complain.

 

Search Items September 20, 2008

To be of utmost assistance to those of you confused by daily life or motherhood or pregnancy or whatever, I have decided to do another post on items searched that landed folks right here.

  1. “trying to conceive has made me bitter” — I so understand. It starts out fun. Then you get your period. Oh well, nobody gets pregnant the first try; you rationalize. You read up on methods that are ‘sure to work’. You try again. Then you get your period. You buy a book or two and maybe some ovulation kits. You try again. Your husband has never had this much sex in his life and he’s thinking he just hit the freakin’ jackpot. You, on the other hand, are starting to become concerned that something is wrong with your female functions. My best advice is this — every other day have sex starting on day 7 in your cycle (day 1 is the day you start your period). If you are not pregnant within 3 months of trying this method, talk to your doctor. Every other day — not every day — not on certain days — you wanna catch that egg then you need to do what I just said — even when you’re bitter. Good luck!!
  2. “no soap lotion before ultrasound” — One question: why the heck not? They use gel anyway. Your belly gets all gunked up and slimy. Huh?
  3. “negative pregnancy test” — either you tested too early (wait a week) or you are not pregnant. False negatives are common. False positives are not common. Good luck!
  4. “symptoms of a miscarriage” — gee whiz… I hate this one. My symptoms were spotting and loss of pregnancy symptoms. I had no cramps, but those are normal too. I also didn’t have heavy bleeding or clots, but these are normal too. I’m sorry.
  5. “I believe divorce is” — Necessary for some; ridiculously selfish for others.
  6. “do down syndrome babies move in ultrasound” — yes, they sure do! If your baby wasn’t moving in ultrasound, he or she was probably asleep. The IMPORTANT thing is that everything is functioning while the baby is still (heart is beating, blood is flowing in and out of placenta/umbilical cord, etc.). Next time drink orange juice about 15 minutes before your appointment. Works every single time. I’ve had probably 100 ultrasounds — trust me, OJ works!!
  7. “Jesus tell me the truth” — Try the New Testament. He does a lot of that in there. Happy seeking!
  8. “I’ve been eating a lot of junk…” — Me too!!! I just had some Almond Coffee Cake and a large glass of milk. I am getting fat this pregnancy and I almost don’t care really. Ha!!
  9. “ok to conceive while husband is sick” — well, that all depends on what is causing him to be sick. If it is Hepatitis, I’d say NO. If it’s the common cold, then hop on him girlfriend!!
  10. “sausage pizza while pregnant ok” — LOL!! You can’t be serious. If that wasn’t OK then my kids would all have something wrong with them. ROFL!!
  11. “pregnancy test getting lighter” — sweetheart, they are no good after a few hours. The lines will fade. I have saved all of my positive pregnancy tests. They all still have lines, but they are all very faint now. Throw it away. Just throw it away. It’s probably gross that I saved all of mine. Yeah, that’s probably really gross on some level. Oh well.
  12. “spot head ultrasound down syndrome” — not necessarily!! Go see a genetic specialist or perinatologist. Seriously, get a referral from your OB or midwife right now and go see a more specialized doctor for a better ultrasound. Trust me!!
  13. “candid nurse” — Someday!! Right now I’m just Candid Chatter.
  14. “recommended breakfast first trimester” — whatever the hell you can keep down!! Good luck with that.
  15. “why is my stomach so big in the first trimester” — because you are short. Me too. I understand and I feel you on this one. Just understand all those hot little tarts who don’t show until they are like 8 months along will get worse stretch marks than you! Well, at least that’s what I like to believe.
 

Shouldn’t I Be Worried August 26, 2008

Tomorrow is a big day. We have Brianna’s orientation for preschool. But, bigger news, we also have the level 2 ultrasound with a genetic specialist.

So shouldn’t I be worried?

I guess maybe I should be. Many people would be. But I’m not. As I tossed and turned following my nightmare the other night, I felt this calm come over me. This is separate from the peace I already had. I don’t know how to explain it, really. Peace and calm seem to bring a picture of the same thing. But even though I was at peace before the calm I still thought about the possibility of bad news a lot. I had to chase those thoughts away. After the calm, I no longer have to chase any thoughts away because I don’t fear tomorrow’s results.

I do not fear.

A God thing for sure.

So today I am trying to catch up around the house. Chores. We’re all in good moods. Nobody funky or foul. It’s pleasantville.

Have a great day!

 

Peace Felt Like My Own Skin August 23, 2008

Yesterday three things dove into my soul. Two messages in my heart.
“Do not fear”
“Trust Me”
Then I saw, for the second time in less than a week, a double rainbow. This time the rainbows were right outside my front door. I should have taken a picture. Beautiful and breathtaking and brilliant.

For those of you of less than a spiritual nature please do not judge. You just aren’t to the point in your life yet where these sorts of things make sense to you. Once you get there you’ll understand completely. It will come alive and you’ll get it and then you’ll see.

I can tell people have been praying for me and our baby. How? Because of the peace I hold in my heart. It’s almost tangible. It feels like a coat over my skin. Comforting, relaxing, sweet, tender, merciful.

I’ve been given a lot of advice from well-meaning individuals. Some who have a love interest in us. They tell me not to accept that something could be wrong with our child. They are praying prayers of positive words. Calling forth things as if they already are — health, intelligence, and so on. I appreciate those prayers. But when I pray, I cannot lie. I can’t tell God “thank you for this healthy, normal, intelligent baby” when in my heart I don’t hold that view. I pray “thank you Lord for whatever child you have blessed us with — thank you that you trust me enough to care for any of your children, whether normal or not — and please give me the strength and wisdom to endure any hardships”.

I know there are many, many Christian families who have been blessed with many, many different types of children. Some of them have become doctors. Some of them have become teachers. Some of them have become missionaries. Some of them have become competitors in the Special Olympics. Some of them can’t talk or move or feed themselves. Some of them have died before their 5th birthdays. All of their parents have prayed their hearts out for them. All.

So I can’t force myself to believe that God would spare me the pain of having a child who has a disability. I hope that He does. Not for me — my hope is for the child yet unborn. But I don’t believe for even an inch that God can be manipulated because I speak “positive words”.

I have read about 3/4 of the Bible so far this year and I haven’t seen one Scripture verse that teaches that you can call forth things with your words. Any time someone prophesied something that came to be it was because the Holy Spirit told them to. It was God’s idea first. Then He revealed it to the prophets. Then the prophets revealed it to the people. Then the events happened. It wasn’t in any other order. There were times that the prophets pleaded on behalf of the people. Interceded in prayer. There were times that God answered those prayers of intercession. But they didn’t say to God “this isn’t going to happen because I won’t accept it”. No. They were humble and respectful and most of the time in mourning for the nation of Israel. God does change His mind. God does heal the broken. But God cannot be told what to do. His plans are perfect and holy. Who are we to think we can “positive words” Him into acting in our flawed interests?

Having said all of that, I will not tell you how to pray. No. Never. You should pray how you are led to pray. You have your own relationship with God. I have mine. But be honest in your prayers. God sees your heart anyway. No sense in lying or pretending you believe something that He clearly knows you don’t. If you honestly don’t accept that our baby could have a disability, that’s fine. Pray like that if your heart is pure in that thought/belief.

Update: I had a regular OB appointment yesterday. They drew blood for the quad screen and did the glucose test. I’ll have results hopefully by Tuesday on all tests. I spoke in more detail with the midwife who saw me. She said everything else on the ultrasound looked normal — organs, bones, size, spine, development, shape of brain and skull. She also said in 14 years of being a midwife she has seen an uprise in finding cysts on the brain in babies in the last 5 years. She said she believes it is due to better sonographic equipment. She said there may be a time in obstetrics when a cyst (like what our baby has) is found that they will just call it a normal part of the baby’s development between such and such weeks instead of sending moms to a specialist. But, for now, all moms go to see specialists when this cyst is found. She said the vast majority of the time the cyst is gone by the time the mom sees the specialist. If it is still there, it eventually goes away and the specialist finds nothing else wrong with the baby. What he will look for on Wednesday at the ultrasound are the remaining six markers that indicate Trisomy 21 (Down syndrome).

I am at peace whatever may be. My husband is too. Of course, our hope is that our baby is just as fine and dandy as our other two children. But if he or she is not woven together as they are, we will survive. Actually, I believe we’ll more than survive. I believe we’ll be blessed beyond belief and that we’ll be a blessing to others who may experience the same things we have.

Plus, we’re all a little disabled. I can’t fly a plane. Why? Because I have bad eyesight. I also can’t sing very well. I am short and I can’t reach the top cabinets in my kitchen. I am not good at math. I can’t draw.

Thank you for the prayers, thoughts, support, and encouragement. Sincerely.