I (Kristin) sit down to write this post and am unsure how it will even come together. I don’t know where to begin, the words to use, how to give the story the justice it deserves… so I will just keep typing and see what happens.
About 8 weeks ago, Paul and I went in for our ultrasound to find out the gender of the baby. If you’re tuning in for the first time, we’re expecting our third child. Our two boys came with us of course, but they had to sit in the waiting room and play some games while we were back in the exam room. The ultrasound seemed to take forever. I’ve forgotten a lot because it’s been five years since our second was born, but I don’t remember this exam taking so long. About half way through, the sweet ultrasound technician announced it looked like we’d be a house full of boys! I had a sneaking suspicion I’d have three boys. 🙂
But she kept examining. And measuring. And then about an hour later, she said she would bring the doctor in so we could talk. Oblivious to the fact that anything could be wrong, I offered to Paul to head on out and take the boys to the pond outside while I waited and talked with the doctor. Unwise.
I’m going to type this part fast because this is when it gets tough…
The doctor walked in and shared that the baby had a cyst in his brain. The cyst could be a marker for a genetic defect or it could go away and not cause any damage to the brain at all. This type of cyst could possibly indicate Trisomy 18 and she recommended having a genetic blood test done. I sat in the room by myself and admit that after the words “cyst in his brain” and “genetic defect” the room started spinning. How does one compute this kind of news?
I thanked her, I think, and she left the room. The technician who had done our ultrasound remained in the room and I asked her to stay while I called Paul and asked him to come back. When he returned, she repeated all of the information to him and what would happen next. I don’t remember much other than I felt like in that moment, life stopped.
Later that night, about 9 or 10pm, we get a text from Paul’s dad that all of the Privette children, along with his mom and dad, connected over FaceTime around the country and prayed together for over 40 minutes. They each took screen captures of themselves and the series of images starting coming through over Paul’s phone. We wept in gratitude.
Over the course of the next few weeks it was very quiet around our house. We had to tell the boys gently what was going on and they, in their precious little voices, started to pray every night for “their little brother to be strong and healthy forever”.
I can’t even begin to share what it is like praying, or begging for the life of a child. Hearing that he could either be perfectly fine or that he could have a genetic defect was hard to comprehend. We prayed for peace and trust and healing and wisdom and strength. What we’ve learned is that we needed to have peace and trust even if the outcome wasn’t a good one. Trusting and feeling peace shouldn’t only happen when things go our way. That is a terribly painful realization.
A couple weeks ago the baby’s blood test came back and results showed “low risk”. Then yesterday morning we went back in for another ultrasound. The cyst is gone. Baby boy Privette is now developing perfectly normal.
I now have a glimpse of what it was like for Paul’s mom and family to lose their baby girl. And how my mom and dad felt when she miscarried at 22 weeks. Yet I have only a small glimpse. I still can’t imagine what it would be like to lose a child. I felt like my life was ending and yet I still had hope. Many do not. To the women and families who don’t get good news, my heart goes out to you. My perspective will forever be changed.
So I end this message with praise and gratitude for the answered prayers for this precious baby boy. Paul and I feel like we can breathe again and be excited about what’s to come. For the few of you we shared this with and who have been praying for us, we cannot thank you enough. God heard every prayer and we are so grateful.
Here he is… no name yet (or at least we’re not telling 🙂 )