One Year Ago Today...

It's weird to think that it was a year ago today that Spencer and I found out that the little boy we were pregnant with had many things wrong with him.

This is what I remember:

It was a Tuesday morning and we got the girls off to their second day of school and we took Hayden over to LT's home. Spencer and I drove our little blue Honda to McKay-Dee Hospital in Ogden to have our "big" ultrasound done. This ultrasound was expected from the beginning of the pregnancy, so we went in with no worries.

Though the night before as we were preparing for bed, I remember telling Spencer that I wanted a blessing. I was still feeling a little sick and the "energy spurt" which I normally felt during the middle months of a pregnancy had not happened. I was still dead-dog tired all the time.

So, while we were checking in at the counter, the receptionist asked us if we wanted to record the ultrasound on a CD. "What the heck, it's only $2.00."

I've never watched the CD yet, but I'm glad we have it.

The ultrasound which was to have lasted 20 minutes lasted well over an hour. Angie, the lady who did the ultrasound did a good job not letting us know something was wrong...until the end when she had examined his whole body and had made a list of all the things which were wrong with him.

I remember that I was wearing the red pregnancy blouse and a black skirt.

I remember the room was dark and I was so glad Spencer had come with me. We had talked of having the kids come with us, but we never acted on it. We just felt like we would go alone. I wonder sometimes if that was the Holy Ghost subtly working His ways so that Spencer and I went alone.

I remember talking and laughing and how neat it was to see our little boy's body. I remember Angie kept moving all over, but it didn't raise any red flags until she got to his heart. Spencer and I are not pros at reading ultrasounds, but we've seen enough that Spencer noticed that he had two holes in his heart and he mentioned this to Angie. She was quiet, but then she softly agreed that it did look like there were two holes.

Then the words I will never forget - said kindly and with compassion and as gently as she knew how - "I have to be honest with you..."

She then took us to the top of Connor's head. She showed us the two cysts in his brain. They looked like two huge kidney beans facing each other. She told us that sometimes they will see these cysts and if they are found alone (with no other deformities) that they don't worry too much and that sometimes they will disappear. But if they are found with other abnormalities...

I think she then showed us his stomach. They couldn't find it. She had tried several different times, about 20 minutes apart, but it was no where to be seen.

Then she took us down to his arms. She told us that she couldn't find the radial bone in his arm (one of the bones from his elbow to his wrist), and the other bone which was there, was much too short. She showed us his hands, all clenched in, so much we couldn't tell if he had all five fingers (until he was born).

That's when I cried for the first time. It hit me. I remember thinking, "They can't fix that." Angie leaned over and handed me a box of Kleenexes. I was thinking they could "fix" our little boy.

I don't remember what happened immediately after that. We of course had questions and Angie answered a few and kept referring to us meeting with "THE DOCTOR." She helped me sit up and I remember asking Spencer, "Is this what C's baby had? Is this Trisomy 18?"

Angie just looked at me and said nothing. I think she was shocked I said it or even knew what it was. But I don't know where I knew what it was. When I taught Sp Ed I never worked with a child who had it. My friend K even asked, "How did you know to say that?" And I have no logical reason.

Angie left to show the Dr. her findings and we talked quietly. I remember Spencer leaning over and quietly saying, "Our lives will never be the same."

He understood much quicker what it meant. I was in shock.

The Dr. came in and said, "I"m sorry I have to meet you." I should have known it wasn't good at that point, but I was still in shock.

He went over everything Angie had and then he shared more info - our little boy's chin was micro.....something, meaning it was much too small.

He offered to do an amnio right then and there and gave us the option of going home and thinking about it-which we did.

I remember excusing myself to find a restroom towards the end of our visit and I'll always remember the look on the faces of the receptionists. They knew that having The Dr. visit us meant bad news. And their faces said as much. They looked at me with sad eyes, kind eyes and then they looked away. But their faces said it all.

I think we went out to lunch and Spencer took the rest of the day off. I remember having Spencer go over and pick up Hayden so that L would not see my red eyes. I didn't want to talk yet.

I remember walking down the hall of our home and feeling such a DEEP sense of peace. Spencer commented that he felt peaceful about the whole thing and at that point I knew it was all in Heavenly Father's hands. I somehow felt He was involved with this whole pregnancy.

I remember watching Hayden play around when he came home and what joy I felt watching him. Both Spencer and I just sat on the floor and just watched. And laughed. And savored him. And became more grateful for his perfect little body and those of our other children.

Later that night my mom called and wanted me to go to Wal-Mart with her. I didn't want to go, but I did. She asked me, "Have you been crying?" My eyes were SO very red and swollen, but I didn't tell her why.

That night I woke up at about 2:00 am and could not sleep for another 4 hours. This was the start of waking up almost every night until he was born. I would spend that time thinking, writing in my journal and researching Trisomy 18. For the next four months I probably slept through the night only 8-12 times. Generally I was up, thinking. And crying. Preparing.

The next morning we went back to the hospital and had an amnio done. They would take this fluid and do a FISH test, and would have ther results by Friday. But from the symptoms we found the day before, I had already done some research on the internet and we thought that our little boy did indeed have Trisomy 18.

What mixed emotions. I didn't want him to live but I didn't want him to die.

The Dr. brought in a genetic counselor - Brent Hafen who was kind and wonderful. He talked with us, answered questions and it was he who put us in contact with Carolyn Kasteller and Angel Watch.

I still wish I could go back to that day. I tried to savor this pregnancy as much as I could, but I wish I could go back to that time because it meant that Connor was still alive and kicking me every day.

I don't have any idea what our little boy is all about. Or what his personality is like, but I love him. And I would do it all over again for him.

Look what love will do to you!

Friday came....and I waited for the phone call to confirm T18. But I already was quite certain that it was. RG was over, along with my primary class, having a party. The phone call came during the latter part of the party and I went out to the front porch and sat down to talk with Brent Hafen. The FISH test came back positive. I cried silently on my front porch.

I had told a dear friend, SS the day before. And the most surprising thing happened. She cried. And to hear her cry was SO healing.

On Friday night we went to their home for dinner. Curry chicken. And we told Shawn and Steph that the test came back positive. Shawn leaned over and gave me a big hug. I needed that.

We told the kids the next morning.

We had thought about waiting to tell them, but then decided to tell them so that they too had time to adjust and so that if he were born early (as is often the case), they would not be surprised.

What an emotional time.

I miss our little man. A lot and a lot and a lot.



But know we are okay.