Casting My Cares

5 years ago this week, I heard the word "Anencephaly" for the first time.  I heard the words "Incompatible with life".  I heard them say of my baby "These babies don't live."

I was told that "The testing you refused earlier in pregnancy would have shown this." and "You know there is nothing we are going to do for this baby." when I refused to abort my daughter.  As if knowing sooner would have spared me the tears I was shedding or as if fear of them refusing to help her would knock some of their text book "sense" into me and make me see how useless carrying her to term was.

Today, I went for Baby E2's 'routine' ultrasound.  Ultrasounds will never feel 'routine' to me ever again.  I went alone because Matt started a new job and can't take time off yet.  And ironically, I was totally and completely fine with being there by myself.  I've never gone to a 'routine' ultrasound alone before.  I always bring someone with me.

I have told my mom and some friends that I had a feeling they would find something at this scan.  God has given me an amazing intuition... 

The ultrasound wasn't common in the sense that because I didn't want to know the gender and they know I'm good at reading ultrasounds, she was having trouble moving around and seeing what she needed to without me seeing the parts (baby's legs were wide open, she said!)... so she was asking me to cover my eyes and so her jumping around didn't quite fill me in on her concern until closer to the end of the 45 minutes... when she said "Baby's heart looks good structurally, but... see this...?" As she moved the cursor to a white spot on my baby's heart.

I felt that same sense of heavy air I felt at Rachel's ultrasound 5 years ago.  

"Yeahhhh" I said slowly.... waiting for the life or death conclusion.

And she went on to tell me that it's one of the markers of Downs Syndrome.  I could tell by the look on her face that she didn't want to tell me and she kept saying things like "Everything else looks great." and I just looked at her and said...

"I can handle Downs Syndrome." as I wiped the warm gel off my belly and sat up.  "As long as my baby is not going to die.   I'm not afraid of Downs Syndrome."

I told her how when we got out of Rachel's ultrasound, I was staring at her picture - they would only give me one of her foot - and saying "I hope it's Downs Syndrome... just as long as they don't say she will die."  

And I wasn't making it up.  I meant it.  I'll take my children in any form they come, even in a form that means they can't stay - but I desire nothing more than to be able to keep them and raise them.  And a baby with Down's Syndrome I could keep and love and watch grow and let God use to change me to be more like Him.  

I don't want my baby to have Downs Syndrome.  It's scary and a long term, horribly difficult task and they often have heart problems and other medical issues that would be hard on my heart and wearing on my body - but ANYTHING as long as I can keep my baby.  Anything as long as I don't leave the hospital without my baby again.  

As I waited for her to finish with the computer, I stared at my pictures of my 7th baby she had printed for me and I began humming the lyrics I had posted on Facebook just before I went in for the scan... "I will cast my cares on you... you're the anchor of my hope... the only One who's in control...."

I did cry a little when she left, trying to dry my eyes before she returned to keep her from feeling sorry for me.  But I'm ok and I know God has this.  The baby doesn't have any of the other markers - a major one being a shorter middle finger - making the way she searched for pictures of baby's hands and feet for so long more understandable.  I thought she just wanted me to have good pictures of them, but she was checking for another marker of Downs.  I looked at the picture she gave me of baby's hand and it was taken at 10:27. (Hi Rachel!)  Considering my appointment was at 9:30, I never expected to run into 10:27 like I did at the last scan... but this picture is one of the main reasons they aren't overly concerned, because baby's hand looks perfect.

I have mixed feelings about that since I have the most perfect little handprint tattooed on my wrist.  I put the most perfect little girl in a box in the ground just because of one thing standing out from the rest.  I held a perfect little body - all other parts just right - except that one.

I know one spot is enough to change my life....

But I also know God is big enough for anything I face - big or small...

We talked of the possibility of doing the AFP testing that I always skip because it would give us a more definite idea - but Dr Pinette said knowing me personally, he doesn't recommend that.  I have mentioned I love that doctor, right?  I am thankful to have someone who knows me and what I believe who also respects what I believe and guides me in that direction when fear could easily sway me.  So, the game plan is to wait and see what Christmas brings.  And honestly, I don't care what I get for Christmas, as long as I leave that hospital with a baby in my arms.  That's all I want for Christmas ♥