Here I am.

I'm not sure where to start. It has been awhile and a lot has changed, even though all the important stuff remains. I've been meaning to get back to blogging for awhile but haven't. We have so many concerns facing us now and I didn't know if I could blog without emotionally vomiting on innocent readers. Disclaimer: you probably will be emotionally vomited upon. I feel a little like my life is un-recognizable; for instance last night I asked Chad to go to a ward party. Who am I? I am no longer living in my beloved Texas. And I am carrying a little boy whose future is uncertain. It should be no surprise I guess, the way it all began. He was a surprise you're having a baby! baby.

When we found out we were pregnant, we immediately had the concern that the baby would be afflicted with the same disease our sweet boys (i.e. rough and crazy; in print I always describe them much more angelic than reality. It is my prerogative.) Owen and Luke have. One in four were the odds. Oh, the days of worrying about that. I wish I could still be naive enough to have that be my greatest worry. It is amazing how bad news goes. Initially, you think this is the worst thing that could happen. Then. . .you hear even worse news and you think, NO! I'll totally take that other bad news. Give that first one back, please. Then. . .thinking the worst has possibly happened you get even more news and now you're thinking. Seriously. Seriously. How can this be happening too. Shock is really the only word that can shed any light on the feelings.

Being a mother can be at times the cruelest experience one can have. You love your children so much, any pain or difficulty they experience feels magnified within you because of that love. Weeks ago I went in to a perinatologist to prepare for an amnio to test for the hyperinsulin mutation that our boys have. She did an ultra sound that raised concerns of our baby having Down Syndrome. His neck thickness was on the high side of normal. Dr. Russell suggested a blood screen that could tell us what our risk level was taking in many different factors. For reasons UNKNOWN I wasn't too concerned and left the office without taking the simple finger stick. I called Chad to tell him "WE'RE having a BOY!!!" not the GIRL I had convinced myself I was having.

I mentioned in passing the doctors concerns about some of the measurements, we got off the phone and I went home. Shortly there after Chad called and sweetly asked me to go back and take the test. His thinking was, "why not put our minds at ease when we see that our statistical risk is not increased significantly." HA. This rational makes me laugh now. We were so pure, expecting only good news. Oh, the innocents lost; maybe one day we will get that back (in a far distant future, do I sound jaded? I do and I hate that.) So I went in, had the blood test and promptly forgot about it.

Days later we got the call that due to my blood work our risk had gone up significantly. From 1 in 480 to 1 in 10. Now I was worried. Worried, worried worried. I worried about what if he had both conditions; Downs Syndrome and HI. That would be a nightmare. I indulged myself in that worry for about a day. Then I decided why borrow problems from tomorrow when all of it is still uncertain. About two weeks later we went in for the amnio. They were unable to do the procedure because my placenta was detached, yet another marker for Downs Syndrome she stated. During the ultrasound she mentioned in passing that she thought she saw something concerning about the heart but couldn't be sure. THAT DID NOT EVEN REGISTER. I only remember it now given the recent chain of events. So we went home, deflated and hoped that over the next three weeks my placenta would re-attach.

Last Friday was the rescheduled amnio. We went in, hoping that my placenta would be attached. When I was called back I asked, "Can we just skip this whole ultra sound since we've already done two extensive ones? (I just love how naive I can be at times!) The tech looked at me and said absolutely not. Okay, I think you're just wasting your time, since we've already seen everything twice and we're already going to do the amnio. . .is what I'm thinking. We get started and she spends approx. forty five minutes looking at his heart. This should have been my first clue. But it wasn't.

The doctor comes in after to begin the amnio. But before that she promptly drops a bomb on Chad and I. She begins with, "I'm sure you're curious why we were so insistent on the ultrasound of the heart."

. . .Um, no I wasn't until about two seconds ago. The lights have finally turned on in my brain and now I AM WORRIED, again.

"Well, we are seeing four major defects with his heart and cannot find a pulmonary artery in the heart."

(in my head). . .oh crap! Can you live without one of those? . . .I don't think so. Maybe? Then, slowly reality sinks in and tears roll down my face. This isn't one of those statistical risk things, this is happening. It is no longer what if he has -fill in the blank-. It is the progression of bad news. First you think you've heard the worse and do not want it. Then you hear worse news and wish you could say, "Hey, I'll take that first bad news over this." Then, unbelievable you hear devastating news and bargain, "I'll take the first two, no problem, please!!"

This is where we are today. Tomorrow we find out if he has Downs Syndrome. The doctor managed to get in through my tears that the heart defect only adds strength to the possibility of Downs Syndrome. "Why, thank you. It would have been terrible for me to go two whole days with the irrational hope of only 1 in 10." Ah. Now that we are so close to knowing for sure, when it has been weeks of uncertainty hanging over us I am afraid. What if he is afflicted with not just one but all three of these conditions. How can we handle that? Where will he be born? How will we take care of our three children and go out of state for the delivery? What will his life look like?

Today, these thoughts are consuming me and I do not know how I will handle everything that is asked of me. Tomorrow morning we will know more, then Wednesday we see the pediatric cardiologist who will tell us how severe the defects are and what can be done. Then sometime over the next two weeks we will hear about the hyperinsulin.

So, there you have it. I blogged for the first time since August. I've got a lot of other stuff to fill you in on as well. This is just the elephant in my room that I had to get out. Consider yourself: emotionally vomited upon.

. . .just be grateful that you missed the one I did from the pulpit a couple of weeks ago! WHOA. That is a post in and of itself.