Bombshell

Monday, July 25, 2011.

Such a roller coaster of a day. The day before, Craig and I got back from an AMAZING trip to Peru where we spent a week with the most precious children. We were exhausted but still high on emotions and reflecting on what God had revealed to us that week. We had a routine 20 week ultrasound scheduled that morning and we woke up happy and excited to see how our 3rd little miracle was growing. The appointment started pretty typical. Mounds of paperwork, blood pressure, weight check, etc. After about 45 minutes, we made it back to a room. The technician started the sonogram and with smiles on our faces we informed her we did not wish to know the gender of the baby. As the images appeared on the screen, I remember feeling the same "wow!" as I had with both of the girls. There was a precious little baby in there and we were getting a sneakpeak into it's waterworld. The technician looked for a few minutes without pointing out any significant body parts. She then mentioned something about the baby being curled up in a little ball and wanted to see if it would change positions. She left the room and told me to stay put.

A few minutes later, the door opened. It was not the technician but Dr. Maberry. He briefly introduced himself and continued with the examination. Again, he was quiet and was intently looking at only one or two areas of the baby. I knew how these appointments typically went since we'd been through it with two others in the past and my maternal instinct started setting in. Since we had never met this man before, I couldn't quite tell if he was just not very personable or if something was wrong. I began to feel a flicker of anticipation and thought, "What's going on?" After what seemed like 30 minutes (which I'm sure was more like 5), I was about to ask him this question. Then, as if he could read my mind, he paused, looked me straight in the eyes and said, "There are some major abnormalities with the baby that we will need to talk about. I'm just trying to get a good look at everything right now. That is why I'm being so quiet."

I nodded and tears immediately formed in my eyes. Craig grabbed onto my leg and let out an audible breath. All I could think was, "God, you are in control." Over and over I kept saying these words in my head. I'm sure it was more to convince myself of this fact than anything else. We all watched the screen in silence for again what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Dr. Maberry turned on a light and looked at us with a solemn look. He began with, "I'm so sorry to tell you this" and began to tell us about our sweet baby. He explained that there was a significant amount of fluid on the brain. This appeared to be the result of a rather large cyst in the back of the baby's head. The large amounts of fluid seemed to have prevented the development of brain tissue including the cerebellum. He went on to say that the chances for survival were not good. We had a few options at this point. Terminating the pregnancy was mentioned. I remember feeling sick to my stomach and gently shacking my head. As the tears flowed, we attempted to absorb this shocking information. Dr. Maberry was very kind in delivering this information. He gently gave us the facts but did not sugar-coat anything. He immediately recommended we see a specialist in Ft. Worth that he knew very well and had more experience with cases like this.

I felt like a bomb had been dropped in my lap. How could this be happening? We were already expected for an appointment at Dr. Tadvick's office (my wonderful OB). So, we somehow made it out of the office, past the waiting room full of pregnant women, down the stairs and across the parking lot to Dr. Tadvick's. They were obviously expecting us because without a word from us, we were ushered to an exam room the instant we walked in the door. Dr. Tadvick walked in right behind us. He greeted us with hugs and the words, "I'm sorry." We discussed the facts and the options we had. Again termination was an option. As a medical professional, Dr. Tadvick presented the medical reasons this could be considered. They all seemed to make sense from a strictly factual and medical viewpoint. But each time the word 'termination' was mentioned, my stomach sank and the tears seemed to come harder. It seemed all reasons to 'terminate' were selfish. They were all about me and my health. What about this child?! This is my child! How can I choose to kill it?! We also discussed what could happen if the pregnancy continued. In uniquely different ways, both were completely terrifying. I know that much of what Dr. Tadvick told us was a blur. He graciously contacted my mom (who was working across the street at the hospital) and had her come over for support. Again, he explained the situation to her and answered more questions. Before we left, Dr. Tadvick asked if he could pray with us. I don't remember his words exactly, but it was the most heartfelt and compassionate thing I have ever heard from a doctor. He was hurting with us and wanted to help in any way he could. We are so very grateful for his comfort and support that day.

When we left the doctor's office, Craig and I somehow discussed our immediate options of termination and continuing the pregnancy. I felt like we shouldn't make such an important decision like that so quickly. But we had to know what each other was thinking. We should have known. We were both thinking the same thing. There was absolutely NO WAY we could choose to end this pregnancy. This is, after all, our child. We decided to leave the decisions about life and death up to the Creator. We wanted to enjoy what ever time He gave us with this child of ours. In that moment we also decided to find out if we had a son or a daughter. The rest of the day is a blur of tears, hugs, dreaded phone calls, and more tears. Somehow life went on. We took care of the girls, ate dinner, and went to bed.