My little baby

So I've never done a blog before. But why not. I want to journal all of this, and nowadays, writing with a pen is tiring after about 5 minutes. 

I am 20 3/7 weeks pregnant today. On Tues, when I was 19 6/7 wks, I had my routine ultrasound, planning to find out if it is a boy or a girl. I said all the silly things people probably say when they don't suspect anything is wrong. "I hope the baby cooperates so we can see what it is!" "I hope the due date stays the same, I really wanna have this baby before Christmas!" My due date is Dec 14. Being a Neonatal Intensive Care Nurse, I know more of the possibilities of things that can go wrong, so it can be easier to be anxious about a pregnancy. So I made a conscious decision not to worry, since I'm not in control. I did however wake up that morning thinking, ok, something could go wrong, so reserve some of this excitement. But I didn't really believe it could happen to me. 

So I drink all the water they tell you to drink and have to pee like 10 min after I finish drinking it. 1 hour to go. I thought this would be the worst part of the day, having to hold it. So I was pacing around the house, and I decided to leave and do something distracting since the porcelain throne was calling my name. It has been my most frequent companion for the last few months, and knows my booty better than my husband. I go to Sertoma Park to see if there are any cute baby duckies swimming with their mommies. Of course there are 2 families of duckies swimming along... aaaawwwww. So then I go to pick up Adam from work, peeking into Julie's office, exclaiming as I rub my belly, "We're gonna go find out what it issssss!"

We get into the ultrasound room, and watch in excitement as we see our little baby's head, spine, legs, ribs, heartbeat, and little human form move around. I eagerly tell the tech, "So tell me what this kiddo is." He says that the baby's butt is in my pelvis, so we may not be able to tell. Throughout the whole ultrasound, he gives no indication that there is anything wrong. Adam says he remembers him making a comment under his breath like "oh" but I didn't pick up on anything like that. At the end of the ultrasound, he tries to get the wand low enough to peek between the legs, but says it's still to vague. I am only measuring 17 4/7 weeks, which would put my due date on Dec 30. I am disappointed because I want to have this kid before Christmas! 

Disappointment has a new meaning.

We go up to the doctors office, and check in with the receptionist. She asks, "Didn't you get a picture and a CD?" I said, "No, but I'd like one." She calls down to ultrasound to find out why. She says, "The doctor will give that to you." I am thinking I have something like a placenta previa, and the doctor has to talk to me before I see the pictures. Oh how I would rejoice if that was the problem. I see a co-worker in the waiting room, and say, "I'm measuring smaller, the due date got pushed back to Dec 30th." She says, "Aw, that's exciting." I'm like, "No it's not, I wanna have this kid before Christmas!" Now I feel so stupid for saying something like that. We get called into the exam room, and the nurse says the same thing: "You didn't get a picture and a CD?" "No, I guess Dr Wildey will get that for us." "Oh."


So then Dr Wildey walks in. Dr Wildey is normally a very chipper, smiley person, as I know from working with him in the birthing center. As soon as he walks in, I can see it on his face. Something is terribly wrong. Not as simple as a placenta previa. My heart is pounding. His words are fuzzy in my memory, but three words stand out: LARGE CYSTIC HYGROMA. What's that? (As a NICU nurse, I should know about everything that can go wrong, right? no.) Gulp. The tears come. It's a growth on the neck, originating from the lymph system.  Sometimes these resolve when they are caught early on (earlier than I am) and they are small. But what usually happens is the baby dies in utero and I would have a stillbirth. Sometimes it can be associated with other anomalies with the heart and brain, but they couldn't see any problems with those today. Sometimes it is associated with a syndrome or chromosomal defect, but sometimes it just happens for no apparent reason. It's nothing you can prevent and nothing you would have done wrong.

I am too bewildered to think of questions. This is where Adam, the strong man that he is, thinks to ask the questions. I don't remember what he asked. Wildey says he's made an appointment for us in 1 month with the maternal/fetal specialist in Fargo. He leaves us in the office until we are ready to come out. Adam and I hug, I continue weeping. I still want a picture of my little baby. I want to be able to look at his or her little human form, a profile of bones. I ask the nurse if we can still get a picture. I guess we have to go back down to ultrasound to get a printout, for some reason they can't print from the images they have saved.


We get back down to the ultrasound waiting room. I think of who I want to call to talk about this as I weep in the waiting room in front of strangers. I think of one of my co-workers Erin who has had 2 children where she got bad news on ultrasounds and things got better, and now they are both healthy children. I decide I will call her later today to talk about this experience. I decide to call Dr Panda now, the neonatologist I work with, to ask him what he knows about cystic hygromas. I get on the phone with him and I can't even choke out what I want to say around the clamp on my throat. He says, "Where are you? I'll be right there." He is there lightning fast. "What's wrong?" I ask, "What do you know about large cystic hygromas?" His face is somber. "Not good." 

He goes with another ultrasound tech to look at my images. Adam and I wait in the dark ultrasound room. He comes in and tells me he's never seen one this big. He uses the word "severe." We've gone from "large" to "severe." It's so big, it extends down to the chest and abdomen. Again, if it's caught earlier and it's smaller, there's a chance it can resolve, but very unlikely in this case. He talks about experimental fetal surgery (EXIT procedure), and he has worked with doctors who have done this. He has worked with some of the most renowned neonatologists in the world. He talks about seeing a maternal/fetal specialist sooner than a month so we can make a decision. One option is termination, which we could never do, so that is not discussed. "Are you willing to drive?" Of course. We'll go to Sioux Falls, SD. His words are sympathetic. You couldn't ask for a better bedside manner in a doctor. I wouldn't even call it bedside manner. He is talking to me like I'm his own family. 

So we walk out to the waiting room and who is sitting there but ERIN. WOW. She is there waiting for an xray for her daughter who broke her clavicle. This is one of her children she had bad news on ultrasounds. "What's the matter, honey?" "MY BABY HAS A BAD ANOMALYYYYYY," I whale into her shoulder as we embrace. I tell her how amazing it is that she is there because I was just thinking of her and what she went through with 2 of her 3 children, and I was going to call her today. God is amazing. It's no coincidence that she was there. This goes on in front of the entire waiting room. I don't care. I hope they are thankful that whatever they are there for isn't as bad as getting news that your baby has such a severe defect that it probably won't live much longer. I feel like I would rather go through cancer and die. That would hurt less. Anyone would wish they could be ill in place of their child.


That night was the hardest night of my life. I wept in bed for hours. The kind of sobbing that is so raw and visceral, I cried out to God. I kept repeating myself through gasps, "My little baby, my little baby" and "GOD GOD GOD." I think a lot of people would cry out, "Why me." I don't ask that. There are all those cliche sayings people tell you when you go through a loss or grief. You know them. You've heard them. People have said them to you, and you have said them to people. Some are comforting, some are no-nos, depending on the person's beliefs. 

I am here to say that I know there is a reason for this. As hard as it is, there is a reason. I may not know that reason, and I may never know the reason. But I have an idea. 

You see, I know that God is carrying me through this. If you are reading this and you don't believe in God, you may ask, "What kind of loving God puts his creation through something painful like this?" That is one of the most deceptive statements as to why people choose not to follow God. Choose. People have a choice. AKA, free will. I know that there is an eternity in which we choose where we want to be. Eternity is a concept that is difficult to fathom for us earthlings. This life is but a vapor in the universe. The most important decision you can possibly make is where you want to spend eternity. 


In the perspective of eternity, tragedy such as this is but a vapor. Now this is difficult to grasp when you are in the throes of it, but hear me out. What is the most important thing to accomplish when eternity is in front of you, and life is but a vapor? 

You are going to think I am crazy. INSANE. Even Christians will probably think this when they read the next sentence. I PRAYED FOR THIS. Wait. What? Tiffany, you wanted this to happen? That doesn't make sense. 


I have said this prayer a few times. Not a lot, but probably a few. I told God I would give anything so that those I love would accept Jesus Christ into their hearts so that I would see them in heaven. I have told him to use me in any way to accomplish this. I thought of all the things I would give for them to accept Jesus. I thought of losing all my possessions. I thought of Adam dying an early, tragic death. I thought of dying myself- an early, tragic death. I don't remember if I thought of losing a child, I probably did, but it was a while ago. I told God anything. I would give up anything.


I have always been the kind of Christian that is very very afraid of approaching people to preach the gospel to their faces. Like walking around a mall and asking strangers, "Do you know where you will go when you die?" or, "Can I pray for you about something?" There are some in my church who convict the congregation to evangelize this way. I have prayed that God would give me more courage to be able to share the gospel with both strangers and people I know. I have never found it easier than now. I still don't think I could go up to someone in the mall, but this is probably ok by God.


So my strongest prayer through this tragedy is this: that God would use me to be a light for him. If even just 1 person came to accept Jesus through all the horrible stuff I'm going through, it would be worth it. Even if it was a stranger, someone I never met, and they never told me they opened their heart to him because of what I type. 


Because I have an eternal perspective. This life is but a vapor. A mist. I know I will see my little baby in heaven soon. There is something so much more important, and that is where you will spend eternity. I will know one day whose lives were changed because of what I'm going through. It may not be in this life, but in the next. My prayer is that the ones changed are those I love who have shut their hearts out to Jesus.