Michael took this picture of me back in 2011 on our trip to
the Gatlinburg Aquarium. At the time, we
were more or less recently married and had decided to expand our family with a
baby.
Three years, three failed
fertility treatments, seven doctors, and two miscarriages later, we're excited to
say the photo's message finally applies. (And for those of you that didn't yet
know...SURPRISE! I'm about 24 weeks
along.) Despite the fact that I've had
to endure daily injections of blood thinners - to the stomach, no less - thus
far, the physical part of pregnancy has been fairly acceptable. Nausea, but no vomiting. Aches, pains and insomnia, but no unbearable
food aversions or fainting spells. Mentally,
I think we've both adjusted to the thought that this might actually be the
one...the one that sticks.
Yet I suppose every worthwhile path eventually takes a detour
or two. For Michael and I, the first came
at about 20 weeks during a "routine" anatomy scan. It's probably somewhat my fault for getting
too comfortable. We had made it farther
along than ever before. All the standard
chromosomal abnormalities had been ruled out, and we knew with almost total
certainty that, come May, we'd have our own sweet baby girl. I can only say the results of the scan were unexpected. At that time, we were referred to the
Pediatric Cardiology unit at Children's Medical Center. And while I initially broke down a bit at the
thought of something going wrong (again), I talked myself into believing that
our strong-willed little angel was simply turned the wrong direction during the
ultrasound to get a clear picture.
(This, I had learned over the months, was pretty much par for the
course. Our darling little one had a knack
for avoiding photo ops, and had previously even made a rather comical giggling
gesture after one particularly fruitless scan.)
We read. We
researched. And we readied ourselves for
what they might tell us.
The evaluation at Children's consisted of about an hour's
worth of poking and prodding. Turning
this way and that. Listening to the hushed whispers of the ultrasound
technician as she and the Fellow doing the examination "talked shop." Finally, we were pulled into the doctor's office.
Hypoplastic right ventricle.
Atretic pulmonary valve. Atretic
tricuspid valve. In simpler terms, it
all meant that our sweet Josephine has an underdeveloped heart...a very small
right ventricle, and two missing or extremely small valves. We sat stone-faced
as the doctor explained the condition, showing illustrations depicting the
function of a "normal" heart juxtaposed by illustrations of Josephine's
heart. She detailed the three surgeries
that would be required to "fix" the condition: the first (the Norwood
procedure) at hours or days after birth, the second (the Glenn procedure) at 4-6
months of age and the final (the Fontan) at 2-4 years. Once the surgeries have been completed, she
will be a true miracle...a child functioning with half a heart.
I won't say the idea of this excites either of us. But amid all of the unknowns ahead, there are
a few certainties: Our little Josephine will be beautiful. Smart.
Strong. She will be a fighter. (And
if her current daily acrobatic performance in my belly is any indication,
she'll be an absolute kung fu ninja master.)
But most of all, she will be loved.
We don't reveal this now and in this way to evoke sympathy -
the thought of having to tell and retell this story was simply overwhelming. What we do hope is that each of you will
continue to celebrate our little miracle.
Pray. Send positive
thoughts. Whatever you have. We certainly welcome it all. And if you care to follow our journey, we'll
try to keep the updates coming. For now,
we're focusing on the positive and trying to get this sweet baby as healthy,
strong and big as possible. (Though
I have been advised by my doctor that, despite the fact it seems like a
practical way to prompt fetal growth, eating an extra helping of chocolate cake
for breakfast, lunch and dinner won't really do much in the way of helping Josephine
gain weight. Drats!)
In a few short months, our little Josephine will make her debut. We hope you're all as excited to meet her as
we are.
