Fear of the unknown is generally the type of fear that leaves me numb. Being told one thing after another, not knowing what the truth is creates a fear that no mother should ever have to realize. Altering your own expectations for a life once thought to play out one way to another type of life is a hard adaption for anyone, especially for people who have a hard time with change.
This post is only to document and record a trial that Josh and I went through with this pregnancy so that we can remember the blessings that have come out of it; not to dwell on the sorrow that could have been.
When we had our first ultra sound we were so excited to see our little baby. She's not a very interactive baby so we enjoyed every little movement she did make. Playing shy she kept her knees crossed and turned over into herself making it difficult for the RadTech to find what she needed to find.
Or so we thought.
The radiologist then came in and explained that they need us to return because they couldn't locate the nasal bone. He continued to say that this could be similar to a cleft palate- not a big deal. Just something to be aware of for when she does arrive. Taking it all in stride I cracked a joke saying that if they can fix Michael Jackson's nose I have no worries that Lyndi can't be made whole. The RadTech smiled and said she wasn't really sure if there was anything that could be done about a missing nasal bone, but to not worry.
During the drive home a few tears slipped from my eyes. Concern and not fully understanding what was being said to me weighed heavily on my heart. Trying to push all thoughts out of my mind I waited until the next morning to "GOOGLE" what a missing nasal bone was linked to and what it could look like.
That was my first realization that Lyndi could potentially have Down's Syndrome.
My QUAD test came back that next morning and I was informed not to worry, but wasn't given any actual numbers. Two weeks left until the next ultra sound.
When we came in for our second ultra sound we were ecstatic to learn that they could find a nasal bone, however it wasn't definitive as to if it were shortened or not. Pushing all thoughts aside, finding comfort in what we did know I came home and called all family to announce that Lyndi would be fine.
Now I want you to understand that Josh and I had come to terms with the idea that we would be choice parents of a very special spirit. It was scary as the unknown always is and there were many tears of mourning for what we had dreamed of for this child. But there was also a completely new love and compassion that I never had before too. Two weeks of not knowing shaped me and prepared me for what was going to be told to me later that evening.
After I got off the phone with my sister-in-law I received a phone call that I wish I had never answered. It appeared as if Lyndi had developed two choroid plexus cysts in her left lobe. (Now you have to realize that some of this information isn't actually accurate. So much of what we had to deal with and try to understand was due to human error. Cori plexus cysts actually occur in a spot center of the brain where there actually isn't ANY brain matter... hindsight is worth 20/20 right?) With the phone to my ear, I sat quickly down as the nurse described this could be due to chromosomal abnormalities- such as Down's Syndrome... or something worse. And then she asked me if I would like to see a specialist or schedule another ultra sound. I opted for the specialist.
Now remember. We have come to terms that our beautiful daughter may be a very special spirit that will forever be innocent. What we hadn't come to terms with is the chance that we may never get the chance to hold her and look into her sweet eyes.
I called my best friend hysterical. What was this joke? How could we have JUST learned that she is going to be fine to we could potentially lose her? My Relief Society president came over immediately and let me cry and talk to her. Her presence alone gave me so much comfort. Her faith and her own experiences soothed my soul.
That night Josh held me in his arms as we cried ourselves to sleep. The next month was full of many prayers. I constantly had a prayer in my heart and on my lips. I felt like a zombie but was told by my friend that she thought I was handling everything really well. Josh and I started feeling Lyndi more and would hold my stomach laughing as she would try to squirm away from the pressure of our hands. The Lord's spirit was strong in our home and we could feel that there was a reason for this trial. That we would come out on top no matter the conclusion.
Finally. Time for our next ultra sound with the perinatal specialist. It was at this appointment where we learned that Down's Syndrome was never actually the concern with Lyndi- it was Trisomy 18. I had never heard of this before. The specialist then continued to explain that if she were to have Trisomy 18 (aka Edward's Syndrome) there was a large chance she would never grow to term. Even if she were to make it to her birth the average life expectancy of children born with this is 5-15 days. Only 1% make it to age 10.
This was HORRIFYING news, however I felt SO grateful to have been ignorant to the truth. The specialist then tried to reassure us and explain that we appear to be low risk, however there are still some tests that need to be run. We scheduled another ultra sound.
Another month of waiting.
Another month of pondering.
And another month of loving and adoring every little thing we could about this little baby inside me.
The miraculous thing about this experience is how close I feel it brought me and Josh to one another, and the Lord. I have learned patience, and adoration for the two little children that I already have. I have learned that I am A LOT stronger than I ever knew. I have matured, testified, and hopefully lived the way our Heavenly Father would applaud. I stopped listening to the radio and began listening to the christian channel (it's okay to laugh here... I did embrace my more dorky side! haha!). And even sang "our god is an awesome god" at the top of my lungs a few... hundred times.
I was full of peace.
I have never fallen in love with a person or a child that I haven't actually ever met as often as I have with this little girl growing in my womb. She is perfect and she is and will always be amazing. We had our last ultra sound yesterday and were finally told everything that had pointed towards Trisomy 18.
*Apparently Lyndi's diaphragm had never been located.
*They believed her to have a heart defect in one of her ventricles because of the pattern of her blood flow.
*Her hands were difficult to capture, and with Trisomy 18 how the child holds her hands is very indicative to the abnormality.
*And they were concerned about her kidney's.
Either Heavenly Father decided to step in with the first appointment with the specialist and help direct that conversation AWAY from all of these issues, or that perinatal specialist could see the pain and fear behind my eyes- what ever it was I am THANKFUL and GRATEFUL and ever so happy they never told me any of these concerns. I truly believe that there was a lesson in this trial for both me and my entire family, but that lesson did not include a broken heart and a mental break down. Instead I strongly believe it included faith, trust, compassion, and patience.
So to conclude this testimony and record of what Lyndi's journey to this life has brought to our family I am pleased to say that yesterday's news was much happier.
For the first time in this entire pregnancy I finally heard the words every mother YEARNS to hear, "It appears as if you have a healthy baby girl."
My prayers have been answered and my testimony is a rock. Miracles do happen and our Heavenly Father knows and LOVES us. He does not give us what we can not handle and because of our trials we grow spiritually, emotionally, and mentally. Josh and I reached the top of our mountain and we did it together. I look forward to the rest of this downward slope together... while holding the hands or all three of our precious little children.
Love Nichole.
Dear Lyndi,
I adore you. I can not wait to hold you and smell your hair. I can not wait to look into your eyes and hold your little hand. I look forward to your first cry and feeling your warm body against mine. I can't wait to just be your mommy and to bring you home with me to meet your family. You have a big brother and a big sister who kiss you every day. You will be spoiled and loved and I hope you feel this inside me. I hope the rest of your journey is full of beauty and strength because you sweet girl, deserve it.
LOVE,
Your Mommy!
I don't currently have any pictures of the backyard, but suffice it to say there is a fairly good sized, completely fenced in back yard for my kids to go crazy on! We're pretty excited about this! 