I should really start from the beginning...or the end of 2007, to be precise. After having a couple of strokes in December of '07, it was discovered that my FIL had pancreatic cancer. We had been trying for our second child for almost a year, when we found out in January that he or she was on their way. We were happy that we were able to share this news with Larry who, due to his last stroke, lost his ability to speak but happily gave us two thumbs up. 55 days after his first stroke, Larry lost his battle and went to Heaven. Ellie was only 19 months at the the time and was very confused, one moment Gundpa Warry was here, in the next, he was gone and everybody was crying.
Because I was going to be 35 at the time of the birth, I had to have extra blood tests, to make sure the baby was healthy. For some reason my blood work came back showing high numbers for Trisomy 18. A condition I had NEVER heard of before. I quickly sought it out on the Internet. Within minutes, I was in tears. I then had to make the appointment to go down to Marshfield and speak with someone in Genetics, discuss "the numbers", have an amniocentesis and decide what to do if the results were positive. If the baby did have this condition, most likely the pregnancy would terminate itself (in a miscarriage), if not, you could deliver a still born or a live baby, only for it to pass away a short time after delivery. Some babies do survive a year or more. I was informed that, if positive, it was early enough, if we choose to, terminate the pregnancy. My husband and I were just besides ourselves. We had just buried Larry, the thought of picking out a tiny coffin...was just unbearable. But, the thought of "terminating" this pregnancy...was just unthinkable. I'm not passing any judgement on anyone who's had to make the decision in this similar situation. We just couldn't or just didn't want to. We decided to leave it in God's hands and take one step at a time. Deep breath in, deep breath out. A lot of prayers.
We had a wonderful family member watch our little girl as we drove in silence, holding hands to the Marshfield Clinic.
As I lay there, having this long needle inserted into my tummy, looking at the screen, we were told that our baby was just fine. Very active, hand opening and closing. C and I both broke down and cried. Our prayers had been answered, our Me Too was alright, he was healthy.
Now, he's a big three year old. Just as healthy. Just as active. Just as beautiful and just as precious.
Today, I made the same drive, by myself, to the same town, same clinic for a similar ultrasound (no amnio) and I received the same wonderful news about baby #3. Healthy, active
beautiful, precious. Full circle kind of day. I cried all the way home, thanking God for all
of the miracles in my life.
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| 2 years old (big fan of Thomas the Train) |
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| Pooh Bear |
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| 3 year old boy (huge Dragon fan) |
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| 1 year old |
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