Well, I didn't expect that

I want to be a better blogger.  At the beginning of the year, I sort of made it a resolution to blog more.  I have another blog that has been dedicated mostly to weight loss, fitness and general life stuff.  And I haven’t blogged in months.  Today, I feel like I NEED to blog.  So, I’m starting a new one for this new journey we’re on.

This one is going to be long.  I have a lot to say.

Stoic.  Calm.  Unflappable.  These are words that have been used to describe me in the past.  And if you know me, and are not a part of my immediate family (that knows which buttons to push and how), you probably think something similar.  I guess this is just my general reaction in time of “crisis.”  It usually takes a lot to push me over the edge.  These can be really good qualities, especially in work or professional situations, when something goes wrong. 

This is not how I wanted to seem when I got the news yesterday.  I feel like it makes me seem cold and emotionless, which couldn’t be any further from the truth.  It’s just my natural gut reaction.  I shut down.  I try to take everything in.  I go into a state of shock, but my exterior appearance tries to hide it. 

Yesterday was a normal day.  Well, other than I had a doctor’s appointment and was going in to work late.  23 weeks and 1 day pregnant.  I look forward to my doctor’s appointments.  And to each Wednesday.  I hit a new week mark each Wednesday.  Wednesdays keep me going, because I have something to look forward to.  Doctor’s appointments are even more exciting because I either get to hear or see that sweet baby growing in my belly.  I was excited because I got to see him again yesterday.  At our last appointment, we found out that he’s a boy!  His name will be Tristan Lewis Dix.  He was being stubborn at the last appointment and they couldn’t get all of the measurements that they needed, so they scheduled another ultrasound for yesterday.  Yay! 

Rocky has been to all of the ultrasound appointments with me so far, and he was there in the beginning when I had the bleeding issues- which was the scariest day of my life.  Since that day, everything has been fine, normal, GOOD!  He recently took a new position with his company and had a training out of town yesterday, so we decided it was okay for him to miss this appointment. 

I got to the appointment, and everything was moving smoothly.  I had a different ultrasound tech, but she was just as friendly as my regular girl, and she explained everything to me as we went along.  A good, strong heart rate of 151.  We got a few good pictures before Tristan decided to be stubborn again.  She had me roll from one side to the other to get him to try to move… and move he did.  Just in the wrong direction!  She was trying to evaluate his heart and he turned completely over so all we could see was his back!  She told me they would schedule another ultrasound for my next appointment, to look at his heart.  I didn’t really mind, because that meant I would get to see his sweet face again!  Here’s a good picture that we got yesterday. 

I went back to my doctor’s waiting room and waited for her to call me, to go over everything.  I waited for what seemed like forever.  My doctor, Tanya, is a midwife and I LOVE her.  She takes her time with every single patient and doesn’t rush anyone.  She is thorough and answers all of your questions.  I figured she must be with other patients, taking as good of care of them as she takes of me.  In the meantime, I took pictures on my phone of the ultrasound pictures that we got and sent them to Rocky, a few family members and friends, and posted them on facebook.

I was finally called back.  Tanya started reviewing everything with me.  We started looking at the ultrasound pictures and she realized that the ultrasound tech hadn’t calculated a growth percentage for him.  She said she would send it back to her to calculate, but she started to look at the different pictures to see if she could do a quick calculation herself.  We knew that he has been measuring a little small since the beginning, but I blame that in part to the “standard” dating procedure that doctors use.  They go by the first day of your last period, assuming that “typical” ovulation is on day 14.  We were trying for a baby, so I was tracking my ovulation, and I know that I ovulated on day 19.  My calculations have been more accurate with his measurements at each appointment. 

Tanya reviewed his measurements and most of them were looking pretty in line with my calculations.  Then she got to his femurs.  This is the long bone in the top of your leg.  They’re measuring behind.  10 days to 2 weeks behind.  She asked about Rocky’s height, my birth weight and his.  She moved to his arm bones.  His humerus is measuring behind too.  More so than his femurs.  She explained that with my height and Rocky’s, he could just be on the shorter side.  However, with both the femurs and the humerus measuring short, there is concern.  This is usually the first indication of achondroplasia.  Dwarfism.

Stoic.  Calm.  Unflappable.  This is when it happened.  I just sat there.  My ears heard what she just said, but my brain didn’t know what to do with it.  She went on to say that they won’t know anything for sure until the third trimester.  At the next appointment, they will do more in depth measurements in the ultrasound.  We should know that day.  She said this could affect the rest of my pregnancy management.  If he is a little person (this is what I’m choosing to call it), I won’t be able to deliver naturally and have the water birth that I’ve planned.  They won’t let me go into labor because his head will be bigger and his neck will not have the support that it needs to go through the birth canal.  We will have a c-section.  Tanya said, “This is not the news I wanted to give you today.”  That’s when the tears formed.  Only a few though.  I knew this wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but I still couldn’t process all of the implications.  I wished Rocky was there with me so badly at this point.  I held myself together, because I knew I needed to focus on what else she was telling me.  And I didn’t want to look like a basket case.  And honestly, this isn’t the worst news I could get.  I had to stay strong.

Tanya explained that she recently had a patient with a child that has achondroplasia and that if Tristan does, she will put us in contact with them.  That patient sought out a pediatrician that specialized in children with this condition.  She told me to put my pediatrician choice on hold for now.  She also told me to put my water birth and doula on hold for now.  I can’t make any decisions until after my next appointment.  The earliest she can do the next appointment is December 23.  She said she is fine waiting until after Christmas if I want to.  I told her I suck at waiting and it’s going to be hard enough to wait that long.  I’d rather know.  I’m a planner.  I hate the anxiety of not knowing.    

She told me a few other things, like Rocky and I will have to go for genetic screening if he does have it; what to research when I got on google, because she knew I would look everything up; she told me to email her with any questions that we come up with, not to sit on them and worry about it.  She hugged me when I left.  I swear, she is the best doctor ever.

I got to my car, and didn’t know what to do.  Rocky was at a training for his job.  He was out of town.  I didn’t want to give him the news over the phone.  I sent him a text and asked if he would have a chance to call me.  I didn’t hear from him, so I drove to work.  My mind was in a million other places.

I was no good at work.  I wanted to google everything I could and start my research.  But I also wanted to put it off.  I knew denial wasn’t the answer, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready to know everything yet.  I did a few things and finally found some time to start looking things up.  Most of my initial findings basically explained what achondroplasia is, what it comes from (a mutuation in a gene, that could be passed on, or could just happen sporadically), the basic things it affects.  I learned that as long as Rocky and I are not both carriers of it, then it shouldn’t be fatal.  This is where the genetic screening will come into play later.  As far as I know, neither of us have a history of it in our family, so we’re hoping for the best here. 

I found a couple of good websites that I saved.  One that I came across talked about care for a little child, and it went on into their school age years.  It talked about the accommodations that have to be made at school- he has to be able to reach toilets, sinks, paper towels, door knobs, a regular size desk may be an issue, playground equipment may be an issue.  I stopped reading.  I couldn’t take any more. 

Even though he’s not born yet, I’m a mother.  I want the best for my child.  I do not want him to suffer or face any unnecessary hardships.  I couldn’t stand to think of what he may have to deal with for the rest of his life.  I looked down and realized it was 4:00.  In a little over an hour, I would have to tell Rocky the news.  Tell him that the son that he has so longed for still may not be able to do the things that Rocky hoped to do with him.  He may never play football or basketball.  He will have a more difficult time going hunting, climbing in tree stands, carrying deer out of the field.  I closed my office door, and I lost it. 

For the next 30 minutes, the stoic, calm, unflappable person was gone.  No where to be found.  I experienced every anger, questioning, worrying, sad emotion that I can imagine.  Then I would feel like it’s going to be okay.  God wouldn’t give me anything I can’t handle.  Then I would get upset again.  It was an emotional rollercoaster.  I was still at work, so I knew I had to compose myself.  I didn’t know how to tell Rocky.  That was going to be the hardest thing of all.  I felt like I could deal with it, but I didn’t know how he would react.  Why, oh why, did I have to be the one to tell him?

On the way home, I prayed.  I thanked God for the blessing of this baby that he has given us.  I prayed for him, his life, his future struggles, whether he is little or not.  I prayed that he will always be surrounded by people that love and support him, that he will make good, Godly driven decisions in his life.  I prayed for the best life possible for him. 

For the few brief minutes that I had talked to Rocky earlier in the afternoon, I told him that we had some things to talk about from the doctor’s appointment, and maybe we could go out to dinner.  I didn’t have the energy to cook.  It was taking all that I had to function.

While I was waiting for Rocky to get home, my mind wandered more.  I had some very selfish thoughts.  I am a runner.  I may never get to really run with my son.  I may never get to watch him play football, basketball, soccer, or whatever sport of his choice.  I may have to go watch him participate in the Special Olympics, which will even be difficult for him based on his size and muscle capacity.  I don’t want him to settle for just anyone when it comes to a relationship once he is older.  I want him to have his pick of girls, and to be able to find the one that is best for him, not just one that will overlook his physical appearance.  I don’t want him to have to deal with “friends” putting unnecessary pressures on him to do stupid things just to fit in. 

I thought about a few people that I know that have children with Down’s syndrome, or other mental disorders.  I don’t wish that on anyone.  But I realized that even if Tristan is little, he will still have full mental capacities and intelligence.  He will one day realize that he is different.  And I will have to explain this to him.  And thank goodness that isn’t for years to come, because right now I have no words.  I’m sure even then, I’ll say the only thing that comes to me now, which is, “God made you this way.  He wanted you this way.  You are special and we love you, just the way you are.  I wouldn’t want you to be any different from how you are now.”  But will that be enough?  Will that help him understand and deal with it?

My selfish thoughts continued with Lora, who had her baby at 25 weeks gestation and he has spent his entire life, thus far, in the hospital.  And another friend that just had her baby last week, 4 weeks early on November 14.  He came home yesterday, 6 days later.  It has been a struggle for those babies and their families, and I cannot imagine going through what they have been through.  Then I thought about Jamie, from my online pregnancy group, and Holly, who have lost their babies.  And Holly lost three babies, all from one pregnancy.  I thought about my clients that are at Brenner’s Children’s Hospital right now with their one year old son that is battling leukemia.  I thought about their faith in God and the strength that they have displayed through everything they’ve all gone through.  And I realized how incredibly selfish my thoughts were. 

But I also realized that I am an emotional being.  Emotions are irrational.  I almost didn’t want to put into words that I had these thoughts.  But I’m being honest.  And it’s what I thought and felt.  And I can’t say that I won’t think or feel it again. 

Rocky finally got home.  I had to tell him.  He sat down on the couch beside me.  I showed him the actual pictures from the ultrasound.  I told him we had something to talk about.  I told him I didn’t know where to start- that I had been on an emotional roller coaster all day.  He took his hat off and sat it on his knee.  He knew it was serious.  I started crying before I could even tell him.  I said something along these lines, “Overall, everything is okay.  Tanya said not to worry until we have something to worry about.  But today, when they were looking at everything, they noticed his femurs and the long bones in his arms are measuring short.  This is an early indication of achondroplasia, also known as dwarfism.  We won’t know until the next ultrasound, which is December 23, but he may be a little person.”  He said, “A midget?”  I nodded my head yes.  He rolled his eyes. 

What did that even mean?!?  An eye roll?  One of my biggest fears of telling him was happening!  I’m a caretaker by nature.  He didn’t respond.  How can I comfort him or offer support if he doesn’t share his thoughts and feelings with me?  What am I supposed to do about an eye roll?  If anything, all I could have said would have been, “Why did you roll your eyes?”  To which he could have easily responded, “Why are you crying?”  It was just our reactions.  After a few minutes he did tell me to not be upset.  That there’s nothing we can do about it, and nothing we should be upset about.  I told him that if he is little, it’s what God wanted, and that God won’t give us anything we can’t handle.  He told me again not to cry about it.  I told him that I’m not really upset, that we will deal with it- it’s just not what I expected for our son.  He told me that a year or so ago, after a conversation with a very wise co-worker, he decided that there is no need in getting upset when things happen in life.  We can’t change them.  When people die, we can’t prevent that.  This is no different. 

I hope those are his true feelings.  Deep down, I have a fear that if Tristan is little, it could make Rocky love him less.  I’m hoping this is just another irrational feeling. 

My thoughts and feelings have been all over the place.  I’m still trying to process everything.   I don’t know when it will all really sink in.  Of all of the things a new mother worries about, has tests done to check for things, this is nothing that I ever, ever expected.  It never crossed my mind that we would have a little child.  I didn’t know it was possible.  It has been so much to take in.  And I’m not ready to tell friends, family and the world yet.  We don’t even have a definite diagnosis yet.  So, on the outside, I have to remain stoic, calm and unflappable.