We all slept in a little late yesterday. My ultrasound was scheduled for 8:45 so that meant 45 extra minutes of sleep.
I woke up excited to find out the sex of our baby but there was also a dark cloud hanging over my head. I've had a feeling something was wrong with this baby ever since I've found out I was pregnant. I was just praying that the ultrasound would reveal a healthy baby. Girl. Boy. I didn't care. All I wanted was healthy.
Every morning at breakfast, I read a devotion to the kids. Yesterday's devotion was based on Romans 8:28. And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
The devotion was about a little boy who went into the kitchen while his mom was baking a chocolate cake. He sneaked a bite of the baking chocolate thinking it was a candy bar. The boy was amazed that something that tasted so bitter and disguting could end up turning into a delicious chocolate cake.
His mom used this opportunity to tell him that God allows bad things in our life but will always work them out for good if we trust in his wisdom and goodness. Just like mixing bitter chocolate with eggs, flour and sugar will make a wonderful cake.
My stomach sunk as I was reading this to the kids. I knew this was foreshadowing.
We headed out the door to the ultrasound. We couldn't get the garage door to go up so Dan had to unplug it and raise it manually. As we were pulling out of the driveway Peter realized he had forgotten his backpack. We finally got on the road and made it to the doctor's office.
They called us back into the dark room. Dan, Peter and Sarah each took a seat and I took my place on the exam table. The nurse put some warm gel on my belly and we began.
The kids were thrilled to see parts they recognized. Squeals of "Look! It's the baby's head!" and "I see a little foot!" rang out through the darkened room.
The baby finally turned her bottom toward us and the nurse revealed, "It's a girl!"
"I was right!" exclaimed my husband.
"Yippee! A girl!" shouted Sarah.
"Are you okay with that?" I questioned Peter.
"Yes. I'm okay. A girl will be good," he responded.
But as the nurse continued with the ultrasound, my bad feeling persisted. She wasn't saying things like, "There's the brain. It looks great!" or "There's the heart! Looks healthy to me."
She was very quiet and she had a look of concern on her face throughout the whole ultrasound.
She finished her work, printed off pictures and then said, "I'm going to show these to the doctor and he'll go over the results with you."
My heart immediately sank.
I looked and Dan and shook my head. "This isn 't good," I whispered. "We are only supposed to see the doctor today if something is wrong."
We headed back to the waiting room and waited at least 30 minutes, the longest 30 minutes of my entire life.
They finally called us back. We had Peter and Sarah stay in the waiting room because we knew this wasn't going to be good.
After waiting another 15 minutes, the doctor finally came in.
The ultrasound revealed what he called "soft markers" for Down's Syndrome or Trisomy 18. Each of the markers alone are typically nothing to be concerned with but combined they raise a red flag.
She has a choroid plexus cyst on each side of her brain. Her fists remained tightly clenched the entire ultrasound and her feet were curved in. Also, (Dan reminded me of this last night but I only vaguely remember) the doctor mentioned a problem with her heart.
All of these markers combined mean that something could be wrong with our sweet baby girl.
There is a new blood test that has been available for less than a year. It's called the Harmony test. As it was explained to me, they can take my blood, separate the baby's blood cells from it and "grow" her blood. They are then able to test her blood for Down's Syndrome, Trisomy 18 and Trisomy 13.
The results are greater than 99% accurate and unlike an amnio, the test is not invasive.
We agreed to take the test and off I went for blood work.
And now the waiting begins. The test results are usually back within 10 business days. This is going to be the longest two weeks of my life.
I am trying to remain positive. I am trying to trust God. I am trying to believe that he will and does work all things together for the good of those who love him.
But right now, I can't get the bitter taste out of my mouth.
Please pray for my baby girl.