In March of 2015 my husband and I learned we were expecting our fourth child. This was an unexpected, yet welcome blessing.
When we reached the 20 week appointment and biophysical ultra-sound, my doctor sent me to the Women’s and Children’s clinic in Columbia because they had better facilities and our insurance would cover it. The appointment was uneventful, we didn’t even meet a doctor. Just an ultrasound tech, and us. We learned we would be having a boy. In this day and age with doctor offices and hospitals having patient portals it is not unusual for test results to show up there before a doctor calls about them.
As was the case with our ultrasound results. I was at work when I saw the email saying ‘test results have been posted on your portal’ and I clicked on it not expecting it to say anything out of the ordinary. Shortly after reading what was on the report I immediately looked to Google for help. ‘Dolichiocephaly with early craniosyntosis’. As I was hitting print my phone rings and it is my doctor calling. She knew immediately I had already seen the test results, she apologized for those being posted before she had a chance to call us and speak with us. She told me not to panic, not to Google it (too late) and we set up a time to come back into her office to discuss what would happen now.
Upon that visit she explained what the diagnosis could mean, the worst of it and the not so bad. Her first question upon us was….’ do you want to continue with this pregnancy?’. Now my heart already knew what my answer was, but I honestly did not know what my husband would say….I mean this wasn’t ever something we had ever talked about. And before I could utter a word he answered for both of us…’yes, we are going to continue’. And from there we along with our doctor started planning.
My care and the baby’s care would transfer to St. Louis as they are better equipped for this. We would have to schedule a C-section and the baby would immediately be transferred to a NICU and most likely be sent into his first surgery to start correcting/helping what they could. As time grew closer and with further testing we would learn more about what how badly our son would be affected and what steps we would be taking and when. We had another ultra sound scheduled for 28 weeks.
As reality of the situation set in and the life our little boy could possibly be facing I remember thinking to myself that I had never prayed specifically for him to be healthy. We had always said the standard, we don’t care if we have a boy or a girl as long as they are healthy…..but I didn’t PRAY for it. I took it for granted. I started praying then, not for a miracle, but for God to make me the mommy this little boy would need. He was going to need a good one. One better than I had been.
My husband and I kept this situation to ourselves. There were so many unknowns and we didn’t want to be bombarded with questions we wouldn’t yet be able to answer. It seemed like forever waiting for that next ultra-sound appointment.
When the day finally came, we were back in Columbia, and again we never saw a doctor, just a technician. And she never said a word about the previous ultra sound. She took all the normal pictures and when it became obvious to us that she was finished we finally asked….what about the craniosyntosis and the dolichiocephaly?? She said everything looked fine to her, she would send it to the doctor for reading but it was probably ‘just a bad picture’ last time. Talk about stunned….we left not knowing what in the world was happening.
The following day my doctor called and said she had spoken to the doctor in Columbia and after both of them reviewing both sets of scans they were in agreement that the first set were indicated the diagnosis but the second set showed no issues, and maybe it was just a ‘bad angle’ in that first ultra sound; and our little boy was going to be just fine.
I cannot even explain the myriad of emotions that came that day, and yet the little bit of fear still lingering….what if…. Fast forward to December of that year when we became parents (for the final time) of a teeny tiny perfectly perfect little boy.
On New Year’s Day I received a message from a dear friend. He simply said, ‘at the beginning of last year I picked a couple of people I knew and vowed to pray for them every day of the year. I wanted you to know that I chose you as one of those people and I hope that God touched you in some way last year, and that his continued blessings carry you through this one.’
I know that man saved my baby, and God worked through him and gave us a miracle. He never even knew our baby was sick, and he prayed anyway. God is a great healer and He is good. Every day.
— Laura Alderson