Another long post....

Hello everyone!

Wow.  Where to start....I guess I'll start with the fact that it was about a year ago that I had my OB visit during my pregnancy with Atticus and we learned that he had some sort of heart defect.

I remember it like it was yesterday.  I had gone for the normal ultrasound at 5 months gestation, but the technician was having trouble getting the measurements for Atticus' heart because he was turned at a funny angle.  No problem, they had said.  Everything looked proportional.  They would just do another ultrasound when I came back for my 6 month check-up to get the measurements they needed.  And little did I know that when I came back just 1 month later, my entire world was about to be turned upside down!

I remember going through the usual routine...climb up on the table, pull your pants down just below your hip line, lay back, and relax.  It was just going to be a quick ultrasound to get those heart measurements.  Except, it seemed to taking a really long time.  Even compared to a normal ultrasound.  But I waited patiently.  Maybe he was turned oddly again.  Then the technician said the words that made me instantly know that something was up.  She told me, "Ok.  Well, I'm just gonna run these photos down to Dr Minto so she can have a look at them.  Go ahead and clean up (from all the gooey ultrasound gel), and have a seat until they call you back."  What did she mean she was going to run the photos to Dr Minto?  Why?  This was my third pregnancy, and no technician had ever done that.  They always just started cutting them apart and taping them in the file.  What was going on?!

I waited anxiously for Dr Minto to come into my room once I was back there.  Thankfully, she didn't keep me waiting long.  She walked in with her usual "How are we doing today?"; I replied, "Fine."  Then her face changed and she looked at me and said, "Well, we think there's something wrong with the baby's heart.  It could be nothing, but I want to send you to a specialist to make sure."  Even though I had tried to prepare myself for some sort of bad news; it hit me like a ton of bricks.  This is never the type of visit you want during your pregnancy.  I tried to be brave, but Dr Minto, having been my OB/GYN for many years, and delivering both my other children, hugged me around my neck, and said, "It'll be ok.  Go ahead and let it out."  At which point I immediately began to cry.  She held me for just a moment, handed me some tissues, and said, "Take all the time you need.  I'll go set up that appointment for you.  I'll be back in just a minute."

I dried my eyes, said a desperate prayer, and tried to sort through the million thoughts swimming through my brain at that moment.  How would Robbie react?  What exactly was wrong with my precious unborn son?  How would this effect him?  How would this effect our family?  Could it really be nothing?  I knew the answer to that one in the bottom of my heart.  I knew that it wasn't nothing.  I knew it was something serious.  I had really known all along, but had just shrugged it off as normal pregnancy jitters.  I had never been able to shake that nagging feeling in the back of my mind.  He didn't seem as active as either Sandy or Gideon.  He just didn't seem to do a lot of the things that they had.  Maybe it was just "Mother's Intuition".  Maybe God had just been trying to prepare me.  Dr Minto came back and gave me all the necessary info.  I would have another appointment the next day with a specialist through MCG in Augusta, GA.

I remember going home, and going in to talk to Robbie.  My wonderful husband; he knew that something was wrong the moment I stepped in the door.  He held me on the bed as I cried and told him all that the doctor had told me.  He tried to reassure me that maybe it was nothing.  No need to get upset just yet.  Wait until the appointment tomorrow.  He even called out of work just to stay with me for the rest of the day.  God certainly blessed me to give me a husband like Robbie.  He is wonderful in more ways than I can name.

 I went to the specialist's office and waited anxiously.  Finally, it was my turn, and I went back for the ultrasound.  This was pretty much like any other ultrasound, except it was mostly looking at his heart and arteries around it, and it was MUCH longer.  Finally, once the doctor had had a chance to look at everything; he came in, sat down on a stool below me and began with words that would ring truer than even he could imagine.  "It's called Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome," he said.  "You didn't sign up for this roller coaster, but that's exactly what its about to be."  If only he could have know what would happen over the next year!!  He then proceeded to give me a brief overview of what to expect next, reassured me that the pregnancies are generally unremarkable, and that the baby should be fine until birth.  He was also very candid (and I still thank him for his honesty) about the best route of care.  He told me that they could do everything there at MCG, but because I was on SC Medicaid (I had been laid off from my job just a few months earlier) it was sometimes difficult to get things paid for, since they were in GA.  Also, he told me that their pediatric cardiologist was fresh out of Med School, and the folks down at MUSC (some of whom he had actually worked with) were some of the best in the country, and likely our better choice of routes to take.  I thanked him, and headed home to begin my research.

The articles and information that I gathered over the next several days, did nothing to really help my anxiety.  While I was gathering LOTS of useful information, which made me feel like I was doing something in an otherwise helpless situation, it was grim.  The statistics were not reassuring.  I just felt like I was in a whirlwind of a daze.  There was a whole other world that I was being inducted into, and I just felt lost.  I have a strong faith in God, and I knew that all things happen for a reason.  No matter how helpless I felt; I knew that God was in control.  He had a plan.  I just prayed that His plans were all things I was praying to happen (or not to for that matter).

And this began the long series of trips to Columbia at the MUSC High Risk Clinics there, too many BPP ultrasounds to count, gestational hypertension (gee, wonder why my blood pressure was high? lol), etc, etc; all the way to the MUSC in Charleston where my sweet Atticus was born, and the real journey began.  Throughout the rest of my pregnancy; I continued to prepare myself as best I could.  Nothing could have really prepared me for what was going to happen, but I did my best.  Above all, God granted me peace and sanity.  He held me every step of the way.  As I've already said, God has a plan for everything, even when we can't understand or see what that is.  I guess that's why they call it "Faith".  You just have to believe.

Thank you again to everyone who has prayed, sent well wishes or healing thoughts, who'scalled, sent cards, visited, given us money, or supported us in so many other ways.  You never can fully appreciate how much that means until you become the recipient of such love and kindness.  Atticus still has a long way to go, but I know that God has a plan for him.  I continue to trust in Him; for He has never let me down.  He might lead me down a path that I would have never chosen for myself; but where He leads; I will follow.  Good night, and as always....keep on prayin'!