I’ve always been a fan of roller coasters. It’s because of that feeling you get in your stomach when you are on the top of the track, looking over the thousands of people below, strapped into a mass of metal, knowing what’s coming next. You put your hands up, and begin screaming as the wind splashes on your face and your stomach does flip-flops in turn with the track. There are a few key elements that makes this fun; Number 1, you are strapped in. Number 2, you know what to expect – you know where the turns are, the flips, and where it ends. Sure, you are having faith that the brakes will work, but other than that, you are pretty sure of what’s going to happen.
Paul told me today that he feels like we are on an out-of-control roller coaster.
A month ago, we were told that we were keeping an eye on baby B to see if it was growing. The Dr said she was 99% sure it wasn’t connected because she couldn’t find a blood supply – this was good news because a connection was worst- case scenario. When we went last week, the u/s technician said that she didn’t think baby B had grown at all in the past month. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off our shoulders. This was the confirmation we had been waiting to hear. However, it came with a small caveat; “but the doctor will be in to take a look herself.”
The rollercoaster began its ascent uphill.
When the doctor came in, I smiled at her and said, ‘since baby B isn’t growing, am I no longer considered high risk?’ She looked at me with the kind of look that you don’t want to get from a doctor. The kind that says, I hope you’re enjoying your ignorance because I’m about to change that. She took the ultrasound handle and said, ‘I want to show you something.’ Paul and I both drew in a deep breath. As she navigated around baby A (we hadn’t named her yet), the screen came to a rest on a large dark circle.
“See this? That’s a skull. See this? That’s a spine. That wasn’t there before. So to answer your question, the baby is still growing. In fact, it has doubled in size since the last time you were here.” The tears started coming. This was the part of the track we weren’t expecting. Just a few minutes before, we thought we were getting off the ride altogether.
“So what does that mean?” I asked as she handed me a tissue.
“Well, we would refer you to Cincinnati. They will discuss a procedure with you that consists of searing the connection between the babies.” Cincinnati? Another unexpected turn in the rollercoaster track.
She then left to call ‘Cincinnati’ to discuss my case. When she returned she said that based on the size of baby B, they recommended I be monitored weekly and when it gets to a certain size, then I would go to Cincinnati.
Just as quick as we got on that turn in the track, it straightened out again.
The next week was spent asking for prayer, trying to figure out what we were praying for (that Baby b stops growing, that we can have the surgery which has a high success rate, that the doctors were somehow wrong?), and scouring the internet for information. I had done so much research on the procedure, that I had braced myself for the news that we would be going to Cinci.
We went in this morning, anxious to hear Summer’s heartbeat. When we heard that sweet sound, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Then the doctor came in and changed the roller coaster track once more. “I am not impressed by the growth of baby B relative to baby A. You do not seem to be on track to need the surgery.”
While this was good news, at that point, Paul and I weren’t so quick to allow our emotions to feel his words without some skepticism.
“Are you sure? How do you know? What about what the doctor said last week? What about the scary things I read online?” We were once again brought into the conference room where we talked at length about all possible outcomes. By the time we left, we felt like we trusted his assessment albeit with a certain amount of hesitation. In the car Paul said, “It’s hard to know how to react when every week we hear something different. What will they say next week?”
On the other hand, with all the prayers that we know are being raised on our behalf, why should we doubt God’s answer to them? If you are one of the ones that pray, please continue to do so. The doctor told us that right now, we are in the best possible situation with regard to the size of baby B. He didn’t think that we would need surgery and he was hopeful that baby B’s growth would be slow enough that Summer would not have complications enough to send me into preterm labor. This is a huge answer to prayer! I will continue to be monitored with weekly ultrasounds and fetal echocardiograms.
We are still on the roller coaster ride. And while we don’t know where the next turn is, if we are on the way up with a scary plunge in our near future, or if we are nearing the end, the one thing that we do know is that the straps that are holding us in tightly, are the hands of God. We fully believe that He is not only holding us in this situation, but that He will carry us through it, whatever the outcome. We can have faith that He is driving the roller coaster, He knows the track, and He has control of the brakes. (That’s more than you can say for the rides at Great America!)
Life is crazy enough without riding the emotional roller coasters too. I haven’t figured out how to do that (I’m the kind that literally cries at commercials. The same ones. Every time I see them), but I’m pretty sure it starts with faith. With trusting in God’s plan for our lives, even when we don’t know what it is. So while I can’t quite say at this point on the roller coaster, let’s sit back and enjoy the ride – I can say that we are in good hands, and as promised, we will be Held.
Thanks for sharing. I will pray. When my mother played dolls as a kid she always pretended they were twins. When she went into the hospital to have her baby she was rushed to get a C-section because "the chord was wrapped around the baby's neck." When the doctor came out of the OR my dad said, "Doctor what is it?" He said, "What are THEY!
ReplyDelete