Monday, March 23, 2015

Diagnosis Day

March 17, 2015

It happened so quickly. Those 24 hours that seemed to change everything. 

I was 17 weeks pregnant with our sweet girl Eliza when I received a call from my obstetrician's office. As party of my prenatal care, I had done a pretty generic screening to rule out any genetic disorders for our little one.

Trouble was, it didn't rule anything out.

The results showed elevated levels that were a marker for spina bifida. The nurse practitioner on the line told me not to worry, that they are constantly receiving false alarms from these tests. Even with these results, our odds were over 98% that our sweet girl was perfectly fine.  98% chance of a false alarm? I can deal with that. Just the same, the next step is heading to see a maternal fetal specialist to get the all clear.


We arrived at Dr. Gonzalez's office the next morning in relatively bright spirits. I had a lengthy ultrasound and we were immediately suffocated with the news... 

Eliza had spina bifida and hydrocephalus. 

We barely knew what that meant. In the less than 24 hours that transpired since we received the results of elevated blood work, I'd been able to read a minimal amount about spina bifida. But right then, a flood of words can rushing back to me.

Paralyzed. 
Special Needs. 
Surgeries. 
Spinal Damage. 
Brain pressure. 
Wheelchair. 
No cure.

We did our best to smile and nod as the high risk obstetrician explained that we needed to hook up with a Children's Hospital immediately. I had an amniocentesis done to rule out other problems. 
And just like that, the appointment was over and we walked back into the sunshine of the day. 

We were in shock. We barely spoke. We didn't cry. As the news sunk in, we rejoined the busy world.

But everything had changed. 






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