I love you, Thadwick

Today's post was supposed to be about a name. A few months ago my brother sent me an email referring to the baby we're expecting as "Thadwick." We didn't really have an "in utero" name for the baby and somehow - oddly - Thadwick stuck.

I had this post planned about baby nicknames, the names we used for our last pregnancy - we started with "Peanut" and switched to "Peanuts" when we found out it was twins.

Then we had our 20-week ultrasound yesterday morning. At our last 20-week ultrasound we found out we were having twins. This time we found out we will likely lose our baby.

I'm heartbroken. We're heartbroken.

I don't think I've ever used the word "heartbroken" to describe how I feel about anything. I don't think I've ever quite understood the term.

We'd discussed a few times how we felt like we weren't paying as much attention to this pregnancy. Running around after 12-month-old twins takes time and we've found ourselves noting, "We're already at 17 weeks! How'd that happen?" Last time around, we were just about counting off each day.

But yesterday we were awakened to how much this little one means to us. We're both overwhelmed by the love and affection we have for this child.

Within seconds of beginning the ultrasound the doctor made it clear that something was wrong. There was far too much fluid buildup. In fact, he seemed surprised that the child is still alive.

His guess is that the child has Turner syndrome. If that's the case, it's a girl (he wasn't able to determine the gender definitively, but that condition only exists in girls).

Most of what I've read on Turner syndrome - and it isn't much since the diagnosis isn't confirmed and I'd rather wait until it is to dive in - deals with the condition in children and adults. What I've found on babies with Turner syndrome in utero is fairly bleak. 3% of pregnancies actually start with this condition, but 99% of them are miscarried in the first trimester. (You can read more from the National Institutes of Health if you're interested.)

Again, we just have a preliminary prognosis at this point. We're hoping to schedule an appointment for a level 2 ultrasound today where we can hopefully get more conclusive information.

Either way, the prognosis from the doctor was tough to read:

Single fetus breech presentation with heart tones and movement is noted. The fetus has large septated cystic neck masses consistent with hygromas, large pleural effusions and ascites. The placenta is high posterior and edematous. Preliminary impression is Turner's syndrome and impending heart failure. The study is not completed and measurements are not done. The patient is referred to MPP

The words "impending heart failure" might as well have been bolded, underlined, and blown up to a size 60 font. That line keeps running through our minds.

The last 20 hours have been a roller coaster. We've cried. We've prayed. Friends brought us dinner. I read the baby one of my favorite board books, Moo, Baa, La La La!.

I have to find a new nickname if this is a girl. Thadwick won't do. But that's the least of my concerns.

I just want to hold her. I want to tell her it's okay. I want to make it better. I want it all to be over, to have her in my arms and take her home and bundle her up like all babies should be.

But chances are I'll never have that chance. And it breaks my heart.



I love you, Miss Beautiful. ("Miss Beautiful" is much better than "Thadwick.")

And I don't think it's cheesy anymore when people say their children with "birth defects" are "perfect." I realize now that they don't mean you're biologically perfect. They mean that they love you just as you are.

I hope you're not hurting. I cry when I imagine your tiny heart failing. I hope it's not. I hope you're okay. I hope if the prognosis is right, you don't feel any pain.

Whether or not you feel pain though, we feel it for you. We're hurting very much.

I love you,

Your daddy