this is me...activating the prayer chain.

I wasn't quite sure I was going to share this. I'm generally a spill-my-guts, heart-on-my-sleeve kind of gal, but this rocked my world. So much in fact I could hardly tell my mom. Let alone the rest of my family. I didn't think I had the strength. I didn't think I could handle it. But after some prayer and reflection I realized I serve a God who's strength is more than sufficient. Whose love is all encompassing and empowering far beyond the limitations we think we have. And I believe in the power of prayer and the power in numbers in prayer. And so this is me, asking for your prayers. Asking you to rally with me and Scott and our family as we enter into (hopefully) the next 10 weeks of this pregnancy.

So baby Wheezy. Wheezy is my tiny little sneeze of a babe. He/she has been my constant little mover and shaker since the ripe week of 12 weeks. I have loved this pregnancy. It's been cake. Really it has. Sure the fatigue kicked my butt and I could do without the heart burn but for the most part it's been pretty smooth sailing. My biggest concern has always been not wanting another c-section and doing what I could to hopefully avoid that outcome again. At our big 22 week ultrasound with all our family crowded into the room, we watched and marveled at God's handiwork as Wheezy moved all over the screen, kicking and making quite a fuss. I loved it. But Wheezy was SO wiggly and because of his/her position they weren't able to scan every thing they needed and so they set up an appointment to check again at 30 weeks. I was secretly very happy my wee babe wasn't cooperating. I love me some ultrasounds.

Last Thursday morning I awoke with a smile. I was going to see Wheezy. Scott couldn't make the appointment because of work and to be honest I was looking forward to having that time to myself, to bask in her/him and me...well and the tech, but you know what I mean. At the last minute I changed my mind. I knew it would make my dad's day to go and I called him and he was sitting there waiting for me with a big smile on his face when I showed up at the appointment. I love my dad so much.

It was (surprisingly) promptly our turn. In we walked giggling and excited like two kids at Christmas, joking about how we were going to find out the sex of the baby and just not tell anybody. Insert humongous laughter here because side note; there are not two people on this planet that are worst secret keepers than me and my dad. We just can't help it. We get excited and want to shout it from the roof tops.

And then there was Wheezy, big enough that her/his little body no longer fit perfectly on the screen. I couldn't immediately identity parts and limbs I used to, but there he/she was. We got a perfect scan and view of a perfect little brain. We looked away at the appropriate times and just marveled over and over. There was Wheezy.

The tech spoke up.

"Well the baby is measuring about 5 days smaller than your due date..."

"Right, it has been all along."

"Yes but now the legs and arms are measuring about 2 weeks behind that."

Instantly my brain thought, I'm having a dwarf (midget? what's the pc term?). I instantly thought of Scott's distant cousin/relative that is person of short stature (how's that? is that better?) and thought that some how, some where, that gene is in his family. And here's the really cool part. I didn't care. Faced with the future of a "physically imperfect" child, I didn't care. I always wondered how I would react to having a child with limitations or a handicap and am relieved that it's true, that a mothers love, loves no differently. And while no, I'm not having a dwarf/midget/person of short stature, I am relieved to know how I might react if I did.

The tech went on.

"And it looks as though you have a double vessel umbilical cord instead of a triple."

"is that okay"

"Yes, usually it just results in a smaller baby. But I've seen it a lot and the babies always end up fine."

"okay good."

And that was it. I paid the bill, spent a moment with my dad oogling our little ultrasound picture, hugged him good bye and went and sat and waited for my doctor's appointment. Within minutes a couple with a NEW little boy (like seriously 5 days old) came and sat down next to me. He was just a little frog, with googling new born eyes and sweet new born coos. I swooned. I got excited. I got REALLY excited. The ultrasound was forgotten, I was anxious to get my hands on my own babe and all of a sudden 10 weeks seemed so long away.

Before long I sat in the doctors office waiting for him to come in. And there he was, in his normal cool, collected, gracious manor. Asked his normal series of questions.

And then he said "Let's talk about your ultrasound"

"Oh, yeah, the baby is really small, is that a problem. Oh, yeah and the umbilical cord thing?"
(I seriously probably sounded like an idiot)

At this point, to be honest, things get a little hazy. He told me it wasn't "no big thing" like the ultrasound tech had made it sound. That it, in fact, was quite a serious thing. He explained that normally an umbilical cord has two arteries and one vein, and ours only had one of each. That while most times the one artery grows larger to make up for the lack of a counterpart, the absence of the second artery can result in a smaller, pre-mature baby and even death.

The wind got sucked out of me.

Death. Death?

I bit my lip and looked down. The words he had just said taking hold of me and sinking in. Tears stung the corner of my eyes but no, I was not going to cry here. Not here. I fought hard, looked up with all the strength I could muster and he went on.

We'll see a specialist in two weeks to determine what measures, if any, need to be taken. Most likely this situation requires careful monitoring. Weekly stress tests and and no less than two more ultrasounds. Because the umbilical cord directly connects to the heart and kidneys they have to carefully monitor their progress to make sure further complications do not occur. Worst case scenario, he said, is inducing labor at 34 weeks. He felt confident to take the baby at 34 weeks.

34 weeks. That was 4 weeks from now.
Inducing labor? Screw that. Cut in me in a thousand pieces if it means getting this baby out safely.

The room started to spin a little and I really stopped listening. I couldn't absorb more. My brain was on overload.

He could tell.

"I know, this is a lot to process right now, but the best thing is to wait and see what the specialist has to say before we come to any of these possible outcomes."

I did my best to organize my thoughts, try and formulate words. We talked about what I needed to do, as far as setting up appointments etc and he said if I had any questions or concerns to call him. He said he'd see me in two weeks and to take my time leaving and then he left. I sat there for a second, again, fighting tears. Not here. Don't cry here. I gathered my stuff, made the necessary appointments and fled. Straight to Scott. Bless his heart I know I had him panicked. I called him on my way to his work, to make sure he'd be able to talk. He was waiting for me in the parking lot when I got there.

Thank God for Scott. For his calm demeanor. As I sobbed in his arms I could feel is heart beating a million miles per hour, but outside he was cool and collected, stroking my hair, letting me cry, dumping all that had happened out there in the parking lot. We sat in the car and talked. He calmed me down. He reminded me that Lord was in control. Always had been, always will be.

It's taken me several days but I'm there. I'm okay. I'm okay with whatever God has in store for me and Wheezy. While the outcome is uncertain, one thing is. That the God of this universe loves us and knows our needs. He has a plan in all of this. We don't always know why he uses the things He does to teach us and refine us, but He is doing both. Constantly.

My mom encouraged me to find a verse to cling to. That when I have moments of weakness, I can repeat it over and over, finding strength in God's word and in His promises. Well I'm a song person. And that night, while I sat at the computer editing, trying to distract myself from the day I heard the most beautiful song by Shane & Shane. It definitely has been my mantra all weekend.

Then yesterday Pastor Jimmy taught from Hebrews. He talked on faith and persevering through the race we call this life. The verse he started out with and resonated with me most was from chapter 11, verse 1. "...Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see...". I loved this. And I awoke this morning being sure in what I hope for, but more importantly being certain of what I can't see and can't control. I can't see the future. I can't know what lies ahead, but I am certain of Who is already there, and Who has it all under control.

So forgive me as I take a vacation from blogging until I know more. I covet your prayers and encouragement.
And if we're family and close friends, forgive me for not being able to tell you individually, this just seemed easier.