So let's begin with the Finding Out.
Logan and I had just spent an amazing Christmas vacation with my side of the family in a Cruise to parts of Mexico and the Carribean. It was quite the adventure; snorkeling, swimming, bartering with the natives, getting sprayed with this weird hand "washy-washy, happy-happy" spray stuff every time we ate, and watching both mine and my sister-in-law's bellies grow with our beautiful baby boys inside. As the trip came to an end, and my belly was actually starting to get bigger, Logan and I were anticipating my "20 week" appointment to do a 3D photoshoot and video of our beautiful little Rowan.
My 20 week check up had to be postponed due to the cruise and so on January 20, 2014, a Monday, I attended my "20 week appointment" although I was 22 weeks along. I did it on purpose, kind of, so that we could really see our baby boy and really get good photos of his cute little self. Logan, Lisa (Logan's mom), my mom, and myself all attended the little video session photo shoot at the doctor's office that beautiful Monday morning. The nurse ushered us back into the big room, almost like a little theater with the dim lights and big screen up top, and had my lay down and expose my little belly. The hot jelly was spread and the technician began searching for our little Rowan. It didn't take long! We started with video of his skull, which, looked a little bit like an egg/lemon shape, but we didn't think anything of it. "Oh look at that little egg head!" my mom cooed, and me, at the same time thinking "It must be because his head has been in the birth canal for a little while". All the while the technician is furiously taking pictures and immediately moving to pictures of Rowan's spine...camera moving up and down, up and down at every which angle. More pictures of his head. More pictures of his spine. I remember seeing a dark patch around the lower end of his spine, but also thinking how beautiful his spine was. There could be nothing more perfect and there could absolutely be nothing wrong with my little boy.
Strangely enough, with all the pictures that were taken and printed, I only got 2 and the doctor got the rest. We were then ushered into another room to wait for my OB and the results of the ultrasound. We wait, chitchatting about the pictures we saw, thinking how strange it was that I only got 2 photos, and then the door opens. Dr. Young comes in, looking a little more serious than usual, and says something like this: "Well, your ultrasound results show a possibility of a problem with your baby. It looks like he might have spina bifida." At that moment it hits me in the gut like a semi-truck. Something wrong? With my baby? Spinia bifida? All I could think was, "Spina Bifida...words that mean so much to someone who knows so little." I question Dr. Young over and over of how sure he was. He said "might", a lot hangs on that "might" until he finally let the hammer down and said Rowan had spina bifida 100%. He then said he could not longer treat me, that I was a high risk pregnancy and was going to refer me to a specialist right away. He then asked if I wanted to call and make the appointment, or if his office should. Duh, the office. Other doctors don't listen to patients, no matter how grave the situation, but when an office calls, it's taken care of right then and there. Before he left to make the call, he then explained that spina bifida occurs within the first 18 day of GESTATION, it's a neural tube defect, an usually occurs when either the mother or baby does not have enough folic acid in their systems. Amidst all of this, I did need to remember that this wasn't my fault, it just happened. Luckily, I never did blame myself. All my sadness and heartache was for my baby. I never blamed myself, and I knew, in my heart, that news like this was going to eventually come. From the very start of my pregnancy, I had a feeling that this baby was going to have something different...that he was going to be special needs. I had thought Down Syndrome, but when Spina Bifida was the diagnosis, it was almost like a saddening peace that settled over me. One, my suspicions were confirmed, and two, my baby has spina bifida.
This whole time, I kept a strong face...maybe a tear or two trickled down, but nothing like an ugly woman cry. That came after he left and the door shut. I think he knew it was coming because all Dr. Young said before he left was, "Take your time. Take all the time you need." The door closes, I buckle over and my mom jumps up to hug me. My husband came over later after he composed himself from having his share of crying. And then we cried together. Long and hard. The mothers then cried and we all cried together. Never were there thoughts of, "why us?" or "how could this happen?" or "why did the Lord do this to us?" Never. They were thoughts more like, "what is his quality of life going to be?" and "will he need a wheelchair?" and "will he ever walk? Swim? Jump? Play?" and ultimately, "what the heck is spina bifida anyway?" The only question that we could answer immediately was "what the heck is spina bifida anyway?". All the other questions will be answered in time. Patience, right?
The appointment with the specialist, Dr. Robert Ball, was made for the very next day. To prepare for whatever he had to say, an immediate family meeting was called that night for a special prayer to be said, and Priesthood blessings to be given to both Logan and myself. When everyone met, no one really knew what was going to be said. My side did, because after the doctor's appointment, Logan had to go to work and my mom didn't want me to be alone, so she brought me over to her house. As my sisters and brothers asked me how the appointment went, I didn't say a word. I just went upstairs, laid down on my mom's bed, and cried. My mom was the bearer of the news, and all of them cried too. Nonetheless, when Logan told everyone at the family meeting what we had learned that day, everyone cried all over again. But prayers and blessings were given, and Logan and I headed into Dr. Ball's office with only faith in our hearts.
(P.S. Our video? The one that we had paid for to get live footage of our little guy? Yeah, it was edited to only show little parts of his body like his arm, hand, and leg. When I went home and watched it, I felt so robbed. The technician must have thought she was sparing us the pain of reliving what I am going to share next, trying to give us some normalcy? I don't know. All I felt was anger. Anger that she had edited the film and had "edited" our baby. I loved my baby no matter what...how dare she make that call! Oh well...water under the bridge right? That should have been among the least of my worries...)
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