I’m not a religious person. I never have been, and I can pretty much guarantee after our latest trial and tribulation, I never will be. But I do believe in being blessed. Whoever, or whatever, you think blesses you is one thing. I tend to think that your character determines your experiences, hence giving you blessings or challenges to overcome. Some are one in the same. That is the situation Chas and I currently find ourselves in.

Two weeks ago, we were on top of the world. I was 13 weeks pregnant with Baby T #2, who we saw squirm and wiggle in my belly just a few days earlier. After hearing the heartbeat and seeing that little baby move, I actually said out loud, “I am so in trouble! I can’t have a baby that moves more than the one I already have!” But that seemed to be the case. The baby crossed it’s legs, straightened all the way out, and did quarter turns in my uterus throughout the entire ultrasound. We went home thrilled. Thrilled that we could give Cub a sibling, and excited that summer would bring a new member to the family.

Even better about this whole situation, we were getting ready to head to Ohio to see all my family, and couldn’t wait to share the good news. My doctor had said that once you hear that heartbeat at 12 weeks there is only a 3% chance of miscarriage, which makes any mother’s heart leap for joy. We went to Ohio and told everyone that would stand to listen to us. I was fortunate enough to be inducted into my high school’s athletic hall of fame as well, so many family friends surrounded us over our few short days home. We were on cloud nine.

On our way home, I received a call saying that the Radiologist had seen something a little strange on the ultrasound, and they thought it best for me to head 3 hours away to Wichita and have a fetal specialist take a look. Knowing how much that baby was moving, I agreed, assuming that they just didn’t get a good enough look because of the the movement. Boy was I wrong…

Chas is in the middle of his wrestling season, so getting away for anything this time of year is really hard for him. Not thinking this was much to worry about, I had decided to go alone to my appointment. But at the last minute, my mom decided to drive out the day before and attend with me. I told her not to, because it was at least 12 hours each way for her, but she insisted, and I was secretly SOOOOOO happy. We stayed in a hotel the night before and got up early the next day. After packing up, we decided to go get some donuts, and sat down with a half dozen, splitting them all and picking out our favorites.

I signed in at the doctor’s office, filled out years of paperwork, and waited to be called back. I was excited to have another ultrasound and see that little baby move again. They eventually came and got us, but to my dismay, a nurse decided to take my entire history during the actual ultrasound. When she was done, which seemed mighty quick, I left feeling dissatisfied, like I had been robbed of the chance to see my baby because of the millions of questions I spent the entire time answering. The nurse escorted us to a room, and we proceeded to wait for the doctor to come in, which took almost an hour. Yes, a full hour.

Dr. Margaret O’Hara came into the room looking serious but soft, and immediately indicated that she didn’t have great news for us and was glad my mom had come with me. She proceeded to tell us that the fluid the radiologist had see on our baby’s spine in the first ultrasound was actually a disease called Cystic Hygroma. I won’t bore you with the details, but in many cases it resolves itself, but can sometimes be associated with a genetic disease like Turner’s or Downs Syndrome. My mind raced a little, but this was my baby she was talking about, and I knew in my heart we would be able to handle any issues that came our way.

Dr. O’Hara then said 2 words I will never forget- Hydrops Fetalis. She explained that some babies with Cystic Hygroma develop Fetal Hydrops, which causes fluid build up around organs like the heart, which is what happened to our little baby, causing it’s heart to stop, robbing us of ever being able to hug, cuddle or love on our 2nd little baby. I can’t explain to you how that moment felt. It’s unexplainable. I never want to remember it, but I know I will never be able to forget it. We had just seen that baby move a few days earlier.

Along with all this came a surgery last week, lots of heart ache and grieving, and a LOT of blessing counting. I am so happy that Chas and I got to see that little baby the week before, moving and showing off just for us. While we aren’t lucky enough to ever get to hold our sweet little Quinn, it makes me hold my Cubby so much tighter. It has made our marriage stronger, and I think we both see our family and future in a different light now.

I want to and don’t want to forget what has happened, and that is my reason for documenting it here on my blog. This is a really important part of my life now, and while it won’t define me, or us as a couple, the impact it has had, and will have, is tremendous.

Hug your babies a little tighter. Remember to cherish the small moments, and never take for granted the opportunities that you are given.

The day after that doctor’s visit, Chas had a home dual that I decided to attend, but hide high up in the coliseum. On my way to the dual, I thought about naming our baby. We heard that heartbeat and saw that baby dance, and it just seemed appropriate. I heard this song, and it pretty much sealed the deal. In honor of our Mighty little Quinn Lavelle, I hope you take a few minutes to listen.