A wonderful 4 weeks

At the end of my last post I had just finished having my level 2 ultrasound where they got a really good look at Lorris.  And at the end of the visit we were beyond thankful to get the news that Lorris appeared to be just fine, just measuring a wee bit small, about a week behind according to my due date.  There were no other major concerns. 

Finally some good news!

 We were in the clear. 

I finally began buying a few things to prepare for her arrival.  It had been almost 9 years since my last baby and I had gotten rid of almost everything and the few things that were left had been recalled. I found shopping for her to be so much fun.  It had been great buying for my boys when they were little, but the world of little girls clothing was completely new to me.  I could spend hours looking at little dresses and rompers.  I also loved the thought of putting giant hair bows in the thick brown hair I just knew she was going to have since both her brothers did.

I also began imagining what it would be like when she took her place in our family, not just immediately but in the years to come.  I thought about my boys making over her.  I dreamed about how we would all sit around the dinner table, Lorris pulled up in her high chair.  We would pass a lot of time just watching her and her cute expressions.  She would follow the boys and her daddy around and be interested in all the things on the farm.  She would love animals much to her momma’s dismay (I’m not an animal person).  If Noah and Maxton were interested in a girl,  she would require Lorris's  seal of approval, any girlfriends would have to win her over first.   We would haul Lorris to the ballpark, the tennis courts, to Kentucky basketball games and she would love it.  Someday, many years down the road I would get to take her to pick out makeup, a prom dress, and one day a wedding dress for her daddy to walk her down the aisle in. We wouldn’t ever be able to imagine our lives without her, and we would laugh at the thought that is was never our plan to have her in the first place.  She was truly a gift, the best surprise ever. 

We began working on her nursery.  Marty spent an afternoon assembling her brand-new crib (yep, the boys' old bed was recalled) and Maxton even tested it out, climbing in, filling up the whole entire thing. I splurged at Pottery Barn and bought her the most adorable brown and pink bedding with little birds on it. My cousin Angela had asked me if she could throw me a small “sprinkle” in September and I was really looking forward to that although her dresser and closet were already filled with clothes that family and friends had given her.  There hadn’t been a little girl in the family for so long, everyone was having a hard time not spoiling her and she wasn’t even here yet.   

Marty and I had decided that when Lorris arrived I was going to quit my part time job in insurance sales to stay home with her.  I had already cut my hours back to just two days a week, so we felt like it would be a pretty easy transition for us.  I wanted to be home and soak up the time with her because she was going to be our last baby.  . 

The days passed by quickly and soon it was time for my next level 2 ultrasound.  The doctor had wanted me to come back in a month to check on the baby's growth from the last visit around 5 weeks ago.   I wasn’t nearly as nervous this time.  My belly was getting bigger by the day and it felt good to be showing.  I knew that this was a sure sign that she was growing and that everything was fine, just as it should be.  

I climbed up on the table excited to get another peak at our little girl.  The ultrasound tech began taking measurements, just like she had over a month ago.  As she began, the first number popped up on the screen beside our baby girl.

21.5 weeks

I was 26 weeks along.

Next measurement, 22 weeks, 21 weeks. . . 

I looked over at Marty and he grabbed my hand.  He couldn’t hide his look of panic.  Something was wrong.  Terribly wrong.

Lorris hadn't grown since the last time. 

Before I could even ask,  the ultrasound tech said that she was going to get the doctor.

When the doctor came in she took a few more measurements all of which hovered around the 21 to 22-week mark.   

It was hard for her to hide the fact that she was troubled, “I have some serious concerns about your baby.  The measurements we are seeing indicate that Lorris isn't growing the way she should.  We are also not able to get a good image of your baby’s stomach or all four chambers of her heart. All this in combination with some of her physical features really lead me to think that your baby may have trisomy 18.”

So, we were back to that.  Trisomy 18. 

“But in the last month I’ve gotten bigger, I’ve started to show!”

The doctor responded as kindly as she could, “We suspect that your baby’s esophagus and stomach aren’t connected, that's why we can't see her stomach.  She’s not able to swallow any of your amniotic fluid.  You actually have twice the normal amount as you should  that’s why you are noticing you are showing now, it's all that fluid building up."

She went on to say that the only way we would know for sure that it was trisomy 18 was to have an amniocentesis.  I knew that normally an amnio wasn’t done this far along in pregnancy, that it was riskier for the baby. When I asked the Dr about this concern she looked at me and said.  “Jenny the amount of fluid you are carrying is only going to increase the longer you carry her.  There is a very strong possibility in the weeks to come that we will need to drain the fluid off with a needle so you can breathe comfortably.  The amnio is no greater risk than that, I really think you should have it done so you will know, so you can prepare.

Prepare?  

I excused myself to the restroom so I could take a minute to breath and try to calm myself down.

Once the door was shut I heard Marty ask the nurse if she had ever seen any other babies born with trisomy 18.  

“only two, one died before birth the other one right after.”

I wanted to vomit. I felt like I had been hit by a truck.  

It was Monday and I had the amnio procedure before we left the office that day.  They told me that they would have the initial results back on Friday and they would call and let me know. 

All we could do was go home and wait for the call.

 

 

Good news

Hey there! I'm sorry that it’s been a while since I last posted.  It’s been a busy couple of months and honestly I’ve been sitting on this post for several weeks now.  The timing on when to push that “submit” button on my blog just never seemed right for whatever reason.  But tonight after editing a beautiful photo session of a momma and her two sweet girls I knew that I must press on, and continue.  In my last post I shared about our 20 week ultrasound.  Much to our dismay my doctor had reported that our little girl had something called Choroid Plexus Cysts.  We were leaving for vacation in Florida the very next day and would have to wait a whole week for our level 2 ultrasound.

That vacation seemed like the longest week of my life but it finally drew to a close and we arrived back home with our level 2 ultrasound on our calendar for two days later.  To say I was anxious was an understatement. My obstetrician had told us in our last visit that the level two ultrasound would check closely to see if there were any other issues with our baby.  If the only abnormality they saw was Choroid Plexus cysts then more than likely Lorris was absolutely fine if there were other “markers” however, we knew that might be a different story.

I had worried since my last appointment and I was in desperate need of some good news.  All I wanted was for Lorris to be healthy.  I wanted our situation to be just like the hundreds of cases I read on the internet.  Stories of perfectly babies who started out with the same cysts that Lorris had.  I had begged and pleaded with God, I would do anything I could, just please make her ok.

The ultrasound was different than any I had ever experienced in a couple of ways.  First, it went on for what seemed like eternity.  I was used to ultrasounds that lasted 20-30 minutes and this one went on for well over an hour.  It seemed like they measured every single part of our little girl, her brain, her heart, her chest, and many of her bones.  As they measured, there would be a calculation that would appear beside it on the screen, a measurement in weeks.  I was just shy of 22 weeks at the time and I remember each measurement of Lorris was right around the 21 week mark. 

The second thing that was different is that you could tell that this ultrasound was serious business.  Although the lady who did my ultrasound was kind, there was no chitchat.   Marty held my hand the entire time and after about an hour we were told that we could wait in another room and the doctor would be in to talk with us.   After what seemed like eternity the Dr. came in and I caught myself holding my breath as she began to speak.  

“Other than the Choroid Plexus cyst your baby has no other visable markers for genetic abnormalities.  She is measuring a little small, a week behind, but that’s not anything to be concerned about right now and could be the result of a slight difference in your due date. We weren’t able to get a good photo of your baby’s stomach but that very well could be because be she didn’t swallow while we were trying to look at it. We would like to see you again in 4 weeks just to check on her size but at this time I don’t feel there is anything to be concerned about. “

“So my baby is ok?”

“Yes, based on what we see today, your baby is fine.  We will see you again in 4 weeks.”

I was beyond relieved and I found myself thanking God over and over.  He had answered my prayer. I could finally relax and enjoy the pregnancy.  We called our family and friends to share the good news and let them know our prayers had been answered,  everything was going to be ok. 

Lorris was ok. 

Our baby girl was fine.

Until one month later when we found out she wasn’t. 

Don't Google it . .

I remember the day we were heading to the hospital for our 20-week ultrasound hoping to get verification that baby girl was indeed a baby girl. As I mentioned in my last post the whole news of having a girl was a little bit of a shock, the first girl in Marty’s family in over 50 years so a little reassurance wasn’t going to hurt anything.   Besides, if we got confirmation we already had a name picked out for our little one.  

Lorris Louise

The name Lorris was after my aunt Lorie.  Lorie was my mom’s only sister and she and I had always been very close. When I was a little girl I spent many weekends at her house and as a teenager I would spend many summers babysitting her two boys.  She later gave me my start in what would be my 16-year career in insurance sales at her State Farm office.  She invested in me with her time and made a huge impact on my life.  She battled ovarian cancer for 6 years and passed away in 2003. 

Her middle name, was after my grandmother, Louise Beasley.   My granny is one of the most amazing women I have ever known.  She never fails to show the love of Jesus through her smile, words and actions.  She loves life and finds joy in the simple things.  Last month she turned 94 and she still mows her own grass and will tell you she doesn’t feel a day over 71.   Every single time I talk to her she makes me laugh without even meaning to.  Just the other day when were chatting on the phone she had been painting rocks to hide at our town's local walking trail and mentioned she’d like to try the taco truck that everyone was talking about on Facebook.  Yes, that’s right she saw it on Facebook.  She is full of spunk, she is full of life and has a laugh that is completely contagious.  Everything I wanted for Lorris.

This ultrasound was called the “anatomic survey” for a reason.  Finding out the gender of the baby was just a very small item on their to do list.  They would also be taking a very good look at all of her organs to make sure she was doing ok.  I had put this ultrasound in front of me as a checkpoint.  Once this was over and they told me Lorris was fine I could start really preparing for her arrival.  Getting the crib put up, decorating her nursery, and there would be hair bows, lots and lots of huge hair bows.  

I was nervous as we made the drive to Bowling Green for the appointment and was looking forward to having the whole experience behind me.  Luckily after arriving we didn’t have to wait long before we were called back.  The ultrasound tech quickly confirmed that our baby was a girl but really didn’t have much else to say during our appointment, no warm fuzzy details or chitchat.   Marty and I left the ultrasound and headed up to the Dr’s office for my regular appointment where he would go over the results.  We were heading straight home after the appointment to finish packing for vacation.  We were leaving the next day to spend a week in Florida with our boys and Marty’s parents. 

When the Dr. came into the room he made some small talk about our upcoming trip and then things suddenly took a serious tone.

“Jenny, I’m going to tell you something and I don’t want you to worry, but I know it will be hard for you not to.  (Did this doctor know me or what? ) The ultrasound revealed that your baby has some fluid like pockets on her brain called Choroid Plexus Cysts.  I see probably one or two ultrasounds a month where a baby has these.  Most of the time they completely resolve themselves before birth and cause no further health issues at all.  However, these types of cysts can, in very rare cases be a marker for a chromosomal issue so I am going to send you for a level 2 ultrasound when you get back from vacation just to be on the safe side ”  

He went on to say that due to Lorris's position during the ultrasound there were a few measurements and images they weren't able to get and that the level 2 ultrasound would be a perfect opportunity to get those as well. 

My heart began to race, and I was barely able to get out the words “When you say chromosomal issue do you mean Downs Syndrome?”

“No Jenny, the cysts are actually a marker for another one that is more severe called Trisomy 18.  It’s extremely rare and honestly, I really don’t really think that ‘s what it is but we want to be sure.  But Jenny, whatever you do don’t Google it."

When I left the doctors office that day I had an appointment for a level two ultrasound for the Monday after we got back from vacation.  I was a mess on the inside, my head was spinning on the way home with a millions thoughts. 

"Choroid Plexus Cysts?"

"My baby has a cyst on its brain?"

"More severe than Down’s syndrome?"

I was not a good patient because of course the “googling” began as soon as I had the chance. First I looked up choroid plexus cysts and found that they were indeed very common and more often than not harmless.  Much of what I read said that if that was the only abnormality present on the ultrasound then there was a less that 1% chance that there were any chromosomal issue with the infant.  However, it also said that if there were any other “soft markers” found, other things going on with the baby, than the chances of the baby having trisomy 18 increased.  Then I searched trisomy 18  and found that it was a condition where the baby has an extra 18th chromosome.  Then over and over I saw the statistic.   

Ninety percent of trisomy 18 babies did not live to see their first birthday.  I stopped there, I couldn’t read anymore.

All I had wanted was to get the all clear at the 20 week ultrasound.  The “everything looks perfect” pep talk that I had gotten with both my boys when I was expecting them.  Instead it was more to worry about than I really ever expected.  I’ll be honest; at the time the only chromosomal disorder I knew of was Downs Syndrome (Trisomy 21).  I didn’t even know that “may not make it until your first birthday” chromosomal disorders even existed. 

Marty tried to encourage me by reminding me of what the doctor said, that Trisomy 18 was rare, and that more than likely Lorris didn’t have it, we were just checking to make sure.

I asked in tears “But what if she does?”

“Then it’s in God’s hands and we have to trust Him.” And as he said it I looked at my husband knowing that for right now he was going to have to have enough trust for the both of us. 

It's a girl!

During one of my early prenatal visits I asked the doctor when we would find out the sex of our baby.  He let me know that the first opportunity would be at my 20 week ultrasound, but that many of his patients went to a business nearby called Precious Views to find out what they were having at around 16 weeks. He explained that Precious Views wasn’t affiliated with him or the hospital in any way, it was just a “get a peek of your little one, find out what you are having on your own dime” kind of place.  He didn’t have to say anything else, if I could find out what we were having a whole 4 weeks earlier than scheduled, I was all for that

I don’t think I had even made it home before I called and snatched their first available appointment near my 16 week mark.  I began counting down the days until I could really prepare for this little one to arrive by finding out what we were having.   And when I say finding out what we were having, I mean getting the confirmation that we were having another boy. 

You see, up until this point it was kind of the running joke that my husband’s family only had boys. They had a proven track record and if you were a betting person, you would have put money on it.  In fact at that point in time there hadn’t been a girl born on either side of Marty’s family in over 50 years.  When we shared our plan to find out what we were having with his family Marty’s brother Andy said, “How about this, I’ll take your $75 and I’ll tell you what your having and you don’t have to go anywhere?  It’s a boy! Cummings men only have boys!”  (Just a side note, What makes this really funny is that Andy and his wife Tessa discovered a few years later for themselves that Cummings men could indeed have girls).  I was absolutely fine with having another little boy.  Sure, I had long since given all by boy clothes and gear away but I still had plenty of toy tractors and I knew all the ins and outs of being a boymom.

The day finally arrived and Marty and I loaded up the boys and his parents came along to find out what we were having.   Precious Views proved to be everything the doctor had described.  We were taken back to a rather large room that was filled with couches and a big screen television that made your ultrasound experience visable for your audience.  This was a far cry from the tiny little room in a hospital that a traditional ultrasound is done in.

Within a few minutes I was on the table for the ultrasound tech to get to work on finding the tell tale evidence that we were having a boy.  After about fifteen minutes the little gal let us know that baby was being very modest and was not cooperating to reveal its gender.  She suggested we leave, go get a large sweet tea from McDonalds and come back in a few minutes.  I did exactly that and to make a long story short a huge sweet tea and a few jumping jacks later our little one was finally in position and she was able to get a good view to determine the gender. 

Nothing could have prepared me for what she was about to say.  In an instant my world changed forever.

“It’s a girl!”

I screamed with excitement as did the rest of the room. We all went a little crazy and everyone began frantically texting the folks back home to let them know the big news. Leave it to me, I immediately began to ask the ultrasound tech a million questions.

"Just how sure are you?"

"How long exactly have you been doing this?"

"Have you ever been wrong?"

"What is your accuracy percentage?"

I’m sure this sweet lady was about ready to strangle me.  She finally ended up showing us on the ultrasound exactly what made our girl, a girl.  The evidence began to really add up and as a bonus my boys got an unexpected anatomy lesson.

We were having a girl!

The fifty-year Cummings “girl famine” had officially ended! Not only had it ended but it fact, over the next few years between nieces and cousins God would bless our family in His special  way with eight more girls.  To say our family is a little more balanced now is an understatement.

Our own little girl!  Who would have thought? To think, Left to my own plans and vices none of this would even be happening.  I would have missed this, all of it.   

I rode the wave of excitement but within a few days my anxiety began to creep in.   This time it was a little different.  I was no longer worried about the timing of this pregnancy, or my ability to start all over again parenting a newborn.  I was in love with this baby girl already and that would all take care of itself. All I wanted was for this little girl to be born healthy and happy just like my boys had been, with ten fingers and toes.

My new worry was this.  What if she wasn’t? 

I didn’t have one logical reason or piece of evidence at the time to indicate that she was anything but healthy.  What I did have was a very fear driven mentality.   If things were going good, brace yourself, something bad was about to happen.   Some of you may wonder if this was just some sort of intuition that God gave me to prepare me for the road ahead.  I might be inclined to think so had it not been for one thing.  This way of thinking  was something I had dealt with my entire life and it didn't come from a place of trust, it came from a place of complete fear. 

Can any of you relate to this? Anyone else live in a state of worry or turmoil because you're just waiting for your circumstances to change, to get that good news, or maybe its just to achieve a goal you've set for yourself.  But then what? You thought peace was supposed to be there waiting for you, but you never really found it.  

I was carrying a sweet baby girl, the first in generations and instead of soaking it in and enjoying the rest of the pregnancy, all I could do was worry that something could be wrong with her.  

I told myself,  "I’ll stop worrying and relax and enjoy this pregnancy when I have the 20 week ultrasound and the Doctor tells me my baby is healthy."

This was  the beginning of the one of the most valuable lessons I’d ever learn.  I told myself I’d quit worrying if at that 20 week ultrasound He'd let me hear the news that our baby girl was ok.  What I didn’t know is that He was about to teach me that there was peace to be had even if she wasn't. 

New season, New life

I absolutely love the changing of the seasons and consider myself blessed to live in Kentucky where we get to experience each one to the fullest.  Right now I’m looking forward to fall and the cool crisp evenings, pumpkin spice everything, and the leaves changing to beautiful colors.  Halfway through fall I will start looking forward to winter.  Let me rephrase that; I will look forward to Christmas and every single thing that goes with it including cheesy Christmas movies.  I also look forward to the first big snow of the year!  I have been known to let my boys start filling up our house with their friends at the first promise of a few inches of the white stuff (before they have officially even called off school) so they can spend the whole next day sledding. 

But After that first big snow I am done with winter.   I am over it.  Winter is so hard on this momma.  It is bitter cold, the days are short and there is just way too much darkness.  Although it is the same length as all the other seasons, it just seems to last way longer.  By February I’m usually in a full on “winter funk” and I’m convinced it will never end.   But then one day, out of the blue, the ground thaws, you look outside and where there had only been darkness and death there are suddenly signs of life everywhere.  Springing from the ground there are fresh green shoots and tiny buds on the trees.  Winter is over, spring is here, and finally there is new life!

The seasons in our life are not nearly as predictable as the ones marked on the calendar but they are present nonetheless.   We all go through our own winters, times that are hard and dark.  The winter weighs on us and sometimes it feels like it will never end.  We look out the windows of our life and think, “will spring ever get here?” 

In March of 2011 I was just coming out of a long hard winter and although I can’t remember much about the calendar season itself, my “winter” had began two years before when my mom found out that her breast cancer was back and had spread with a vengeance.  I don’t want to spend a lot of time there but If could sum it up in a sentence it would be this. Those two years left me completely exhausted, depressed and ultimately grieving the loss of my momma.  Maybe I’ll write about that someday, but for now I’ll just leave it at that.

That March I was just starting to see signs that winter was perhaps coming to a close. I was feeling more like myself every single day. I was rested and had put back on most of the 20 pounds I lost during my mom’s illness.   We had sold our house in a nearby subdivision and remodeled the house mom had left behind on my family's farm.  Mom’s house only had two bedrooms, and we added a third so the boys would each have their own room and did some other things to make it our own.  Even though we had lived in our old house for 14 years, our new place on the farm felt just like home in a few short weeks. 

In mid March we were at the SEC basketball tournament in Atlanta with our boys and Marty’s parents. The guys had tickets to all the games and Peggy (Marty’s mom) and I were planning on taking in all the retail therapy that we could squeeze in while we were there.   The first morning of our trip I was putting on my makeup and glanced down at a brand new prescription that I had just gotten filled.  In bold letters it said “DO NOT USE IF YOU ARE PREGNANT.” I then began to think about what day of the month it was and did the math.  I decided that in good conscious I should probably take a pregnancy test before I started the new medication.

I guess I should back up and say that just a few months before this Marty and I had some new discussion as to what was a good fit for us in this season of our lives for family planning.  Let me be clear, when I say "family planning", my definition of these words were  “the plan to not have another baby.”  We had decided that we were two college-educated adults and were smart enough to prevent pregnancy without medical/prescription intervention.  Marty’s take on it had been“and if something happens and God blesses us with another baby, then hey, that’s great.”   My stance was “not on my watch.”

You can imagine my surprise when later that day I saw the two little lines appear.  The two college-educated adults in their mid thirties were successful at "family planning" for all of four months. Within 30 seconds I had done the math and was talking to myself as I counted on my fingers. 

"This baby will be due in November.  When this baby is born Maxton will be 9 Noah will be 12.  Wait, that means that when this baby starts kindergarten, Noah will start his freshman year of college and Maxton will begin his first year of high school. People will ask if I’m its grandma in the preschool pickup. I am 35 years old; when this baby gets married I could be 60 years old."

I was in full on panic mode and I was pacing the tiny bathroom floor of that hotel room.  What made matters worse is that Marty’s mom was in the adjoining room with her Vera Bradley Hipster ready to shop.  I looked in the mirror and told myself that I was going to have to snap out of it and pull myself together!  Marty needed to be the first to hear this news so I was going to have to put on an Oscar winning performance with my mother in law so she wouldn’t know something was up before he did.

I am a terrible actress and I am probably even more terrible at keeping secrets, especially secrets that involve me being pregnant with a surprise baby.  That pep talk I had with the mirror lasted all of 15 seconds because as soon as I saw Peggy the words “Come look at this!” were out.  I led her to the bathroom to show her the test. I then went into a 15 minute stream of conscious monologue where I gushed about how not only this couldn’t be happening, but also the great lengths I had went to keep it from happening, and my calculations about what I considered to be my geriatric pregnancy.

I am convinced that I have the absolute best mother in law in the world.  Peggy was overjoyed, she laughed, squealed and threw her arms around me.  “You’re going to have another baby!!!!”  She then assured me that I was going to be fine and that she would be there for me every step of the way.  Even today, we still laugh every time we talk about how she found out I was pregnancy before anyone else and what I mess I was.  

By the way, I did get around to telling Marty via text that we were expecting again because he kept asking me from the basketball game.  He wasn't even mad that his mom knew before he did!  In true Marty fashion he was over the moon excited and thought it was the most awesome news ever.  He said, “I always wanted another baby!”

Why didn’t I know that?  How can you be married to someone and they always wanted another baby and you didn’t know that?  Apparently I had been too wrapped up in my own plans to listen or notice.

We went to the doctor when I was 10 weeks along and saw a strong heartbeat and decided it was time to tell the boys and the rest of the family.  They did not appear to be embarrassed or show signs that they felt like their lives were ruined.  Maxton’s only one concern was when he asked,  “Mom, are we going to be like the Duggars?” When I assured him that the answer was no he seemed fine and both boys were really excited.   They couldn’t wait to tell everyone and we let them because their delivery of the message was much more adorable than ours.

The funny thing is, the more people we told the more excited I became.  Come to find out, I come from a long line of women who had little ones after 35 and they were all so encouraging.  I grew more and more at ease. Things were going to be fine, possibly even wonderful!   I began to imagine this new baby taking its place in our family and what that would look like.  I found myself feeling hopeful, something I hadn’t experienced since my mom had died.

I share all this with you because I wonder if any of you out there can relate to this; having a plan and discovering God has a different one entirely.  Maybe at first you were like me and panicked just a little or a lot!  For me it was a surprise pregnancy but it could take the form of so many different things from the loss of a loved one way too soon, to a dream that just didn't come true.  When I look back, up until that point I had held on to my plans with everything I had in me. Now,  for the first time in my life I was beginning to feel like I could lean into the unique plan God had for me instead of shaking my fist at it, fighting to take back control as if I had any in the first place.  This was just the beginning of a work that was taking place in my mind and in my heart. 

After a long winter, it was finally spring.  There was new life

The day of the big announcement! 

The day of the big announcement!