On my
100th and
200th posts, I shared some sort of personal story. My 300
th post went by without any sort of commemoration. So here I sit at 404 posts and thought I'd take a moment to recognize that sort of blogging
commitment with another story.
This one takes us back to an ultrasound event. Not for my current pregnancy, but for baby #3, my son, D, who is now 2 years old.
It was our 20 week ultrasound and we had to head into the city for the ultrasound. Apparently their equipment was more modern. It wasn't a place we had been for the other two pregnancies, and we were excited to see the baby on more high tech equipment.
During the ultrasound, some "markers" for Downs Syndrome appeared. First, it was noted that our baby had
echogenic cardiac foci spots on his heart, basically white spots where the muscles are overactive. There is conflicting evidence, but most doctors will warn you about an increase in your baby's risk for Downs Syndrome.
D's spots weren't the only "risk factor" he had. Apparently his
pinky and ring fingers were bent slightly toward the middle finger. These two factors suddenly made his chance of Downs Syndrome a 1 out of 50 chance.
Our ultrasound technician began to look through our charts. She asked what genetic testing we had done. I explained that I didn't have any of the testing done. Her entire demeanor changed during the conversation. She was clearly agitated at our choice to refuse testing.
She asked me why I wouldn't even do the simple blood test. I explained that it wouldn't change anything for us, so we were content to wait to find out. When she kept pushing the issue, I mentioned that many of the tests aren't even 100% accurate so I was content not worrying myself for no reason. Her attitude remained even when we dropped the topic. She clearly had a "bone to pick" on this issue.
At the end of our time, she
wouldn't give me any of the ultrasound photos. She had taken over THIRTY pictures of the baby, but insisted that she had to keep them for my file. I had to beg to get 2 of them. And that was it.
Then she referred us for genetic counselling. We sat in an office and listened to statistics and we were assured that we still had"options". Of course, in this day and age, one option was killing our baby via abortion.
I made it perfectly clear that it wasn't an option for us and that we would pass on any further testing, especially testing that put our baby at risk. We were content to wait.
The
counselor was very matter of fact, yet kind. He suggested we just return for another ultrasound in a few weeks. We agreed that we would come back and were looking forward to another opportunity to see our child!
In the car Eric and I sat dumbfounded at the reality of the state of this nation. We had just watched our 20 week old baby kick, squirm, and wiggle for over 30 minutes. He clearly had a personality already as well as every major organ and body part. Yet we were then told that killing our child was still an option because he or she might not be everything we wanted him/her to be.
Sad. It broke my heart. Abortion would not ever be considered as an option for us. Regardless of any outcome, this was our baby and we would accept God's plan.
That is not to say I wasn't worried or emotional about it. I know that at some point that week I sat down and had a good cry over the emotions involved in the situation. I thought about the possibilities, acknowledged my fears and did quite a bit of praying.
And then I rested in God's Hands. For the next few weeks I didn't give it much of a thought. We just rested in the knowledge that there was a plan for this baby and God knew best. Before we knew it, six weeks had passed and we were able to return for another ultrasound.
I prayed we would NOT get the same technician. And thankfully, we didn't. In fact, the technician we had that day was exactly who we needed. She was laid back and happy. She loved that we didn't know the gender and teased us that she did!
After a look at the charts, she laughed.
Wow. I can't believe they put you through all of this for the white spots on the heart. And she proceeded to explain in detail what was going on with the heart. She then looked at the spot and showed us that it was fading, as it did in most cases. Apparently it is quite common.
Then she addressed the finger issue by holding up her own hands. Her
pinky and ring fingers were slightly bent toward the middle finger. She let us know that this is what our child's hands might look like. And laughingly assured us that it has never been an issue for her, even when typing.
Clearly, she couldn't say for
certain that D was 100% healthy without any condition, but she did give us a sense of joy about our baby. We left with a continued peace in God's plan and a delight for the way He eased our fears with that particular technician that day.
Fourteen weeks later, on his due date, little D joined us. Ironically, with perfectly straight fingers and without any health concerns.
Not that it would have mattered to us.
In D's case, it turned out that there was no reason to worry. But regardless of his health this beautiful little boy would have been part of our family and I couldn't imagine having it any other way.
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