So, how to summarize the last two months? Is it really worth it to go through it all? Can I even remember everything? Probably not. We've had a rollercoaster of a time. Lots of resolutions and decisions, all pretty much shattered by a singular event.
Lovetta and I went to the doctor's office about two weeks ago because we were pregnant with our second child. We had been trying to get pregnant for about seven months before we finally got a positive pregnancy test. We opted to tell no one about it until we'd been to the doctor to find out if everything was OK (with a singular, unusual exception that I can tell you about sometime if you really want to know). Well, we went in for the ultrasound, and ironically talked to the technician about our prior experience and our hope that everything would turn out fine. It seems that it's not. Once again, the technician found (and the doctor confirmed) a case of hydrops in our baby. It's the same thing Max had. We have no other details beyond this, not even the sex of the child (likely due to the fact that we were about 10.5 weeks along at the time of the ultrasound). We don't know if this baby will have the same heart problems that Max had. We do know that fatality is highly probable. We go back for another checkup in a few days.
It's been hard news for us to take, though in some ways cushioned by the fact that it's happened once before. We talked about trials at church today, and this one appears to be ours again. It's hard not to feel like you've done something wrong, even if your doctor, your family, and your religious leaders try to tell you otherwise. It's hard not to say, "Why me? Why again?" I know we'll be able to get past this; we did once before. It just doesn't make it any less sucky to go through. The doctor said that this pregnancy could terminate at any moment. They said the same about Max, but at least he got to term (sort of) and we were able to hold him and love him before he passed on. We don't know if we'll be that lucky this time.
The whole situation has really left us bummed out. The doctor explained to us that Lovetta and I must have a recessive gene thing between each of us that's pairing up somewhere between 25-99% of the time we try have a child. When it does, it will pretty much end up this way every time. Sobering news, and it comes with a lot of unnecessary guilt attached. What do you do with your life when you spend so much time gearing towards having children and then find out that you're quite a bit defective at it? Bleh.
That's it for now, I think. I'll bore you with my adventures in fiction writing and iTunes U some other time, perhaps. I just thought I should pass this word along in a way that doesn't necessarily require any kind of action or response from anyone that reads this. I hate giving people bad news, but what's worse than that is getting the condolences. There's nothing worse, really, than watching someone who really, truly cares about you want to give you help but they don't know how and neither do you. All that helplessness going around, just makes it even more sad :(