Dancing in the Rain
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A Trisomy 18 Journey

Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning to dance in the rain. -- Vivian Greene

Showing posts with label Pregnancy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pregnancy. Show all posts

Monday, March 26, 2012

Questions and Pregnancy





People love to ask pregnant women questions. When are you due? Is this your first? How many other kids do you have? Is it a boy or girl? Aren't you so excited? You have how many more weeks left? The same is true when you have a tiny baby. Many questions and comments. How old is she? She must be brand new! Was she a preemie? How early was she? How much does she weigh? She's so tiny! Were your other kids small, too?
I have come to dread these questions from strangers. When I was pregnant with Julia I tried not to give people the chance to ask me questions. The answers were so hard and so complicated. I had too much amniotic fluid, so I always looked further along than I was. I was so anxious and worried about her various conditions. After she was born I would also answer questions in an intentionally vague manner. Yes, she was born early. She has a genetic condition/heart condition that keeps her small. Yes, she is tiny. During this pregnancy, the questions are still hard. Yes, I am excited, but I'm also grieving. No, this is not my first child. It is my fourth. Yes, I will have my hands full (but not as full as I wish).
I truly do understand that people mean well. Most of us think of pregnancy and the newborn stage as a happy time. My first two times they were. When you have a difficult pregnancy or when you have suffered infertility, infant loss or a miscarriage, pregnancy can be full of fear and worry. This is not because of a lack of faith or hope, but because some of us have been there, and we know that sometimes things are not okay.
I wanted to write this just in case the next pregnant woman you see is the 1 in 4 (!) women expecting a baby after a loss of some kind. Wish her well if you'd like, or just give her an encouraging smile -- something every pregnant mom-to-be will always appreciate.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Dancing in the Rain




Last summer when Julia was 6 months old we made the decision to stop hospice care. We wanted to focus -- and we wanted everyone else to focus -- on her life and not on the end of her life. That was a powerful transition for us. We were already celebrating and treasuring every day we had with Julia, and this decision meant that we were moving forward as a family with Julia a valuable and real member of our family. Let me back up a moment and add that after Julia was born we knew that we wanted another baby. Not to replace Julia-- she is absolutely irreplaceable. But I knew there would be loss one day and that another baby would go a long way in helping us heal. Julia's first 6 months kept us guessing so much that the thought of adding to our family was overwhelming. She had a good summer, though, and we seemed to get into a routine of sorts. As she approached 9 months, we decided that we were ready to consider another child. We wanted a sibling not just for Sydney and Isaac, but for Julia as well. I had already cared for a baby in the newborn stage for months on end. I felt confident that I could manage Julia and a new little one at home. Who needs sleep, right? Then in September we found out that we were expecting! We were cautiously happy and overwhelmingly anxious. I told Julia right away that she would be a big sister! :) We also let Julia "tell" Sydney and Isaac several weeks later. We used a sign that read "I'm going to be a big sister!" and held it over Julia's head to tell her siblings the great news. As crazy as this decision probably seemed to those around us, to us it is the epitome of "dancing in the rain."  Today this decision and this baby are a large part (along with Syd and Isaac) of what keeps us going. A new baby will not erase the sadness and grief that we feel without Julia, but I love knowing that Julia's life will always be linked with the life of her little brother. And she will always be our third child.

We love you and treasure you always, Julia!




Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Valentines Day 2012









Friday, February 10, 2012

What to Expect...



...when you're expecting a baby after a loss. Hope. Tears. Anxiety. Joy. Life. We are blessed to announce that we are expecting our 4th child, a precious baby boy, in mid-May.  Please keep us in your thoughts and prayers as we travel down this familiar yet new path.  More on this journey to come...

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

The Day Before and After





I am trying very hard to focus on the present this week instead of the events of a year ago. However, the memories are crowding my thoughts. I am also super tired after a few long nights, so efforts to direct my thoughts are much less effective. I hope in expressing some of these thoughts that I can focus on this week. 2011. Not 2010.

I was 37 weeks pregnant with Julia. My hospital bag had been packed for weeks due to concerns over placental insufficiency. I was in the perinatologists' office twice every week for monitoring and was warned each time that this might be the day for admission. We "knew" several things-- Julia had many heart problems, she wasn't growing well, she was breech, I had too much amniotic fluid, one of Julia's kidneys was abnormal, and one of the two umbilical arteries carrying nutrients to the placenta had closed. The doctors strongly suspected a chromosomal disorder and were "convinced" it was Down Syndrome we were dealing with (mostly due to a very small or absent nasal bone).

At this particular appointment, one year ago today, I had an amniocentesis performed to check for lung maturity. We were preparing for a delivery that week and wanted to administer steroids for the lungs if needed. After the test, Julia started having decelerations in her heart rate. We were admitted for delivery pending the amnio results. The results came back -- lungs not mature -- so we began steroid injections and scheduled delivery for the following day. Julia's heart rate decelerations continued on and off throughout the day and night. We were so afraid but ready to deliver.

We had one day of Julia's life when we did not know her diagnosis. The docs were pretty sure after examining her that she did not have Down Syndrome. The genetic tests for chromosomal abnormalities were performed. I was recovering from the c-section and was too sick to make it to the nicu to see Julia that day. I briefly saw her after delivery as they wheeled her to the nicu. Her little eyes were open and she looked right at me. I felt relief that she was here and intense anxiety over what was to come. And I felt love -- a love that felt both fierce and fragile. Marc spent most of that first day in the nicu with Julia. He kept me updated with pictures and with doctor consultations.

We received the diagnosis on Julia's second day. It was shortly after I visited her in the nicu for the first time. She was tiny and beautiful. The nurses made Julia a hat with a cute bow. Julia was breathing on her own -- no oxygen or bipap. Receiving the news was unimaginably difficult. Marc has described it as being hit in the face with a baseball bat. I had had a feeling for weeks that things were worse than we knew, and I feared we would not even get to bring Julia home with us. That was my sole remaining prayer at that point -- that we could bring her home and care for her. My intuition was both right and wrong. Julia's diagnosis was much worse than the docs suspected. But, we were able to bring her home and she has now been at home with us for 365 days!!! We were told she would live only a few days and we came home on hospice care. We stopped hospice care 5 months ago. Julia is here. She is a very real part of our family's life. She is the baby sister. I am holding her now and looking at her beautiful, pink face. She is contentedly taking her bottle. She is reaching out to me with her right hand. She is where she belongs. And now it's time to put away the tears and just celebrate.


Saturday, September 17, 2011

The Challenge of Prenatal Diagnosis

The world of prenatal testing is very confusing, even to parents who are medical professionals. Most of the tests give you statistical odds of your baby having various disorders. The first trimester screening, nuchal translucency test, and second trimester screening all combine to tell you if you are low risk or high risk for these various disorders -- specifically chromosomal disorders such as trisomy 21 (Down syndrome), trisomy 18 (Edwards syndrome), and trisomy 13 (Patau syndrome). For example, my risk from the second trimester screening with Julia came back as 1 in 2400 chance of Down Syndrome and 1 in 880 chance of Edwards syndrome (which she has). My risk was considered low based on these numbers alone. However, I was one of the unusual false negatives with these tests. There are MANY false positives, though. When a mom is given a high risk number for one of these conditions she must make many choices. The first choice is whether to have diagnostic tests performed such as chorionic villous sampling (CVS) or amniocentesis. Only these tests can truly diagnose your unborn child with a chromosomal disorder. The tests are not without risk. The tests carry a risk of miscarriage from 1 in 200-400. (This whole process makes you disdain all statistics.) Obstetricians, perinatologists, and genetic counselors all will STRONGLY encourage anyone at high risk to undergo one of these procedures. And high risk automatically includes any woman age 35 or older. Here are the problems with that advice: 1) the small but real risk of miscarriage and 2) what you will do if you get a positive result for one of the disorders.

In our situation, we originally declined the first and second trimester screening tests, just as we had with or first two pregnancies. We decided instead to have a detailed level 2 ultrasound at 18-20 weeks. When I was 13 weeks pregnant I caught parvovirus or Fifth's Disease that was making the rounds in our local elementary school. This virus is normally not harmful except in pregnancy. I began seeing a perinatologist (high risk OB) for specialized ultrasounds to determine if the baby was showing signs of parvo infection. At 17 weeks I received a level 2 ultrasound which I was told was unremarkable. No parvovirus and no other problems. At 21 weeks I had another level 2 ultrasound where problems were found that were unrelated to a parvovirus infection. The doctor matter of factly told me that he found a heart abnormality called a ventricular septal defect and a dilated left kidney. Because he found two problems, the likelihood of a chromosomal disorder greatly increased. He suggested this was likely Down syndrome and recommended an amniocentesis immediately. I said no. I knew there was a risk of miscarriage and I wanted to confer with Marc. The doctor reminded me that termination was only legal in our state until 24 weeks so I did not have a lot of time to decide. I was reeling from the news and felt appalled at the suggestion and told him I would not terminate. A few weeks later I had another ultrasound where the same doctor told me that my baby did not have a nasal bone. This finding highly correlates with Down syndrome, and he again recommended an amnio that day since our termination options were running out in Maryland. Apparently in New Jersey you have a little more time as my docs suggested we consider going there. In my reading I discovered that more than 90% of babies prenatally diagnosed with Down syndrome are terminated. I was both surprised and very sad. The docs strongly push you in that direction and you feel overwhelmed with fear, worry, and a huge sense of urgency. These same docs who once cared enough for my child to diligently scan for any signs of infection seemingly turned on us and repeatedly suggested termination. We did not pursue an amnio and switched doctors. The news and prognosis seemed to worsen with each scan. Julia's growth sharply declined. Her heart defects were found to be much more serious than a vsd. However, the doctors and ultrasound techs all focused in on the absent nasal bone and so assumed it was Down syndrome. No one thought it would be trisomy 18 instead. Trisomy 18 has an even higher abortion rate and is often defined by docs as "incompatible with life." Too often this phrase is the only thing docs know about t18. (Yes, survival rates are very low, but that label of incompatible with life should cease to apply once the baby is born and living.)

After repeatedly declining amniocentesis, we were followed closely by perinatologists and cardiologists until Julia was born. She received steroid injections to develop her lungs. We were monitored to determine the best time to deliver considering both her cardiac status and her size. I truly don't know if we would have been given the same level of care if we had a prenatal diagnosis of trisomy 18. For that reason I have no regrets about the decisions we made regarding prenatal testing. Many others in our situation do choose an amnio and are able to find supportive docs that will continue to monitor closely. I am just not sure that would have been the case for us given the several perinatologists and cardiologists we saw. Even when we thought we were facing a Down syndrome diagnosis, no one offered us any encouragement or directed us to any support groups or agencies. They were more than willing though to find us a late term abortion clinic. It was so disheartening. Parents in these situations who choose not to terminate still need support! We still need to know that our docs know that our decision to have this baby is a valid decision.

I recently read a blog post that beautifully expresses some of these same sentiments. Please check out this article written by a physician and mom to a precious boy with Down Syndrome. Thank you for reading.

Friday, August 19, 2011

Time: In and Out

This week marks another milestone. Julia is 37 weeks old, which means she has been here as long as I was pregnant with her. I know it may not sound like much, but when we were told we would only have days with her, 37 weeks seems like a long time! Although she's still a tiny sweet pea, we have noticed a lot of changes in her in the past 37 weeks. She has gained a few pounds and inches, she has a lot more hair, she smiles a lot, she eats a lot more, she looks around and seems to pay attention to things, she loves to hear Sydney talk, she wears bigger clothes and diapers (barely), she cries less in the car, she plays with her hands, she comforts herself, she makes different sounds, she can support her head a little bit at a time. She's taking her time, but she is moving forward and learning new things. And she continues to amaze us and everyone who meets her. Happy 37 weeks, my sweet Julia.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

A Year Ago and Today

I thought today would be much more emotional, much more difficult. I thought my mind would be driven back to that day, one year ago, when the perinatologist first found a heart and kidney abnormality in Julia and first uttered the words "likely chromosomal abnormality." (Of course at that point he thought it would be Down Syndrome.) The date has obviously crossed my mind, but thankfully my thoughts have been more consumed by the everyday care of three children, including one very special infant. After such a difficult year (giant understatement), I mostly feel grateful to have Julia here with me.
Today Julia and I had an appointment with an ENT doc and an audiologist. She never had a newborn hearing screen in the chaos surrounding her diagnosis, so I thought we'd better catch up. The ENT doc was great-- so kind and non judgmental, and also from Alabama. The audiologist was equally kind. Julia's ear canal is, as we would expect, tiny. (All of her is tiny!) When we went to perform the hearing screen, Julia's noisy breathing (just like big sister's) got in the way. Usually the back up plan would be a sedated hearing test but because of her cardiac status Julia is not a good candidate for anesthesia. So we will try the hearing screen again, perhaps during nap time. Then we will see how things go with the cardio docs and their plans before making more ENT plans.
I could easily reflect on all of the ways our lives have changed since August 9, 2010. The most important change, though, is still the addition of our daughter. Our miracle girl. And that, for today, is reflection enough.