The Pregnancy Scare

On December 27, 2018, the day my nephew was born, we learned she would exist. We had been trying for close to six months, a lot longer than we had to try for her older sister. We had some suspicions since before Christmas, but, as a teacher in a small-ish town, I kept running into students when I went to buy a pregnancy test, and, therefore, did not end up purchasing the test.

My sister went into labor in the early morning of the 26th and had called me later that day to let me know she’d like me to come down and help her through labor. So I made the hour long trek out to my hometown alone, wondering if I had time to stop for a test, or if I should just wait. I decided I’d better wait or my husband wouldn’t be the first person to know if it was positive or not.

After my nephew was born, and after a lot of visiting, I headed out, stopping at a Walgreens before hitting the freeway. I bought the test, and remember the check-out clerk smiled kindly and said, “Good luck,” before I left. I set it down on the passenger seat, peeking over at it every once and a while on the long drive home.

When I got home, I told my husband, “There’s two tests, so even though it’s more accurate in the morning, I’m taking one now.” It didn’t matter. Quickly, a bright pink positive sign appeared on the test. We were ecstatic.

So why is this piece called “The Pregnancy Scare” if we so clearly wanted this child? Well, that part comes at 20 weeks.

She grew quickly, and that meant my pants quickly stopped fitting properly. I had a belly band, but remembered quickly how much I hated it and the way it either rode up or rode down, and really did nothing to help keep my pants up. I knew I could probably just use a hair tie to keep my pants up for a while, but I also fondly remembered how comfortable maternity pants were, and so, my handsome husband had the task of pulling down the maternity clothes box for me.

We had our first appointment and confirmed her existence on January 21st. In March, we went to an outside source to find out if she’d be a she or a he. In April, we had our anatomy scan. And our first scare.

My placenta was low--not quite full blown placenta previa, but enough for the doctor to forcefully explain that I should no longer carry my just-turned-three-year-old, or stand or sit or walk too much. The doctor also explained that, based on the position, it could correct itself before my next ultrasound--one needed because of our second bit of news.

She had a spot on her heart--an echogenic intracardiac focus. We were asked if we had opted for the blood tests at 12 weeks to determine if there were any genetic abnormalities. We hadn’t--it wouldn’t have mattered if there were genetic abnormalities so we didn’t think we needed to know. “These spots tend to be found on babies with Downs Syndrome.” I remember hearing the doctor utter these words.

She then explained that we could opt for an amniocentesis, but if we wanted one, we would have to schedule it for the next week because it was getting close to the point in pregnancy where they no longer could perform them. She gave us information about EIF and had us schedule a “Repeat Anatomy Scan” for 28 weeks.

I cried on the drive home. I immediately began to worry. I was terrified. My world, as an educator and a mom, stopped. Immediately, I began to worry about the life she would have--I knew how much the educational system fails those with special needs and I see how cruel both kids and sadly, adults, can be. I didn’t want that life for the perfect little baby growing in my body.

I called my sister and told her the news. I told her I couldn’t call mom and dad--that I knew they might not have a filter went I told them, and I didn’t want to hate them if they said something they didn’t really mean. She offered to tell them, and to tell them I needed some time before I talked to them. Shawn said he didn’t want to tell his family.

I told the girls in my Women’s Bible Study. They prayed with me and for the baby. They prayed for peace.

I prayed daily. I remembered my word of the year: Trust. I knew that it didn’t matter what the outcome was, that God was going to use this all for his glory. This would either be part of my testimony because she would be perfectly fine, or this would be part of my testimony because God created her completely uniquely to be part of something bigger than I could even imagine. In those eight weeks of waiting, God placed scriptures and songs in my path that reminded me to trust him, to allow him to work out the details and the big picture would be his perfect creation.

Before we knew it, we were on the way back to the doctor for another anatomy scan. We both waited nervously, trying to read the scan and the face of the tech, both unsuccessfully so. Then we were ushered into the exam room where we’d get the results from the doctor. It was here when we got our second pregnancy scare.

The placenta had corrected itself. The EIF was gone. We felt a flood of relief. Then, the doctor asked in a very serious tone, “Have either of you traveled out of the US recently?” I thought this was an odd question to be asked at this point, and we knew the question typically was only asked in regards to Zika Virus. We hadn’t and said so. Our doctor then explained that the “fetus,” (I remember finding it odd that she’d say “fetus” instead of “baby” at this point) had measured appropriately everywhere except her head where she was measuring two weeks behind. She was going to send me to an outside sonogram technician and consult with the high risk specialist.

We scheduled our appointment for 32 weeks. We shared the roller coaster news with friends and family who knew what had been happening before. We discussed what was really on my mind--if her head was measuring small, that could mean developmental delays. Again, the educator in me feared what her future would be if that would be the case.

And then I prayed. Daily I prayed. And again, God laid out in front of my words of encouragement, scripture, and songs that reminded me to trust him. And again, I knew that she would be ok, no matter what.

That appointment came and went, and we received a call from the doctor a few days later telling us that her head size seemed to have caught up, and that everything was looking great. Our pregnancy was still classified as high risk, but I would not have to see the specialist and we could continue on with our normal appointments.

God was faithful through the pregnancy scares, and when our daughter decided to start her journey into this world on the same day our oldest had been sick with a fever, he made sure she waited until our oldest was in bed--and our sitter was back from Yosemite!

Our Elli Jeane waited until everyone was where they needed to be before she made her way into the world. And although the pregnancy with her was full of scares, I am so very grateful to the faithful Lord above who allowed me to lean into him, to trust him, and to believe that he knew the bigger picture.