Sad News
Friends:
I have some sad news. After 21 weeks of trying to help the baby along, Melody and I found out yesterday that our baby is not going to make it. The baby is not getting sufficient oxygen, nutrients, and blood, and is not growing rapidly enough (the baby is at a 17-week stage, but the pregnancy is at 21 weeks, and growth rate is slowing further). There is nothing that can be done to treat the problem, and our baby will die in utero.
The doctors still do not know why this has happened. After a massive battery of tests, including probably over 50 vials of blood, countless urine samples, many deep ultrasounds, and other tests, none of our doctors can tell us what caused this. Every single test came back negative.
The best guess is Extreme, Early Toxemia (also known as early pre eclampsia). This is a very rare thing (though not uncommon later in pregnancy, it is very uncommon at this point in a pregnancy). However, Toxemia may be more of a symptom than a cause, nor are there any signs of Toxemia in Melody's blood or other symptoms.
It could be a genetic issue. However, our doctors feel that is very unlikely, since there are no other signs of a genetic problem. They tell us it is about a 10% chance it is genetic, and that is an exaggerated estimate. We will know for sure once direct genetic testing can be done on the baby.
It seems the likelihood is we will never know what caused this. Sometimes babies just don't make it, and science cannot find a cause. Our doctors assure us it is unlikely this will happen in a second pregnancy (perhaps 15% chance of Toxemia happening again, and that likely would be at a more manageable stage of the pregnancy).
We have the option of terminating the pregnancy or letting the baby die on its own. We have opted for the later. We would rather not ever have to face any doubt that perhaps a miracle could have occurred and saved the baby (however impossible that seems). And our doctors assure us that the baby feels no pain at this stage of development. We do not know how much longer the baby will survive, and will be going to the doctors twice a week to monitor the situation. After the baby dies it will be removed, and tested to see if they can determine what went wrong.
I cannot tell you how difficult this is for both of us. We are very attached to this child. We know it is a girl, and have been working on names for her for many months. Many times we have seen her grow, seen her move, seen her heart beat, seen her react to stimulus, and even seen her face (Skeletor-looking that she is at this stage), all under deep ultrasound – all she has ever looked like to us is a wonderful, active baby girl. In fact, we even have a videotape of multiple ultrasounds (in addition to some print-outs) of her. Melody has felt her kick many times. We have both talked to her, sung to her, and spoken words of encouraged to her (despite knowing she cannot understand - but can hear sounds). And we have both prayed and worried over her for many months, as have so many others. We have purchased a bit of clothing for her (some small booties), had preliminary baby shower plans for her, had visitors scheduled to be in town for her birth, and of course been very open about what we are going through with everyone. And we have fought for her and made sacrifices - oh my how hard we have fought to keep this baby alive and healthy.
So now we wait, and say goodbye to our daughter. After that, we will grieve. There is a psychology group of similarly-situated people that we believe is covered under our health plan that we will probably attend. Perhaps we will travel when things settle down, and get away for a little while. And then we will hopefully move somewhat beyond this experience.
There are some good things that come from this. Things like this make it a lot easier to put life priorities in order. And it brought Melody and I closer together, a lot closer. Living together, marriage, having children, growing old together - these are not decisions we need to make anymore. We know with absolute certainty how much we love each other and belong together, and that is an amazing feeling. If you believe in destiny and purpose in life (as we do), perhaps that was the purpose of this child - to bring Melody and I together.
My thanks goes out to all of you who were so supportive over these many months, some of whom we do not know in person and never will know. Your prayers served a purpose - they made us feel less alone, and I thank you for that.
Sincerely,
Mark "Mistwell" Cronan