5/28/09 So here's my story so far.

I'm 25 and after a string of safe, not so exciting boyfriends, I fell passionately in love with a guy with an edge. His edge turned out to be razor sharp as I later discovered he was a habitual liar. He apologized again and again and I tried everything to make it work. Walking away, sticking around, tough love, tender love, anger, sadness. Every emotion you can experience surged through my body with equal passion.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I ended the relationship and he was devastated, full of promises...yet somehow never seemed to be able to stop lying. I--on the other hand--was so relieved. No more dealing with this bull, I was very sad but determined to go on my merry way. After all, I was stressed to the point of nausea, weight loss, exhaustion...and no man was worth that. Three weeks later, after missing a period, i took a pregnancy test. Positive. I took a second. Positive again. Suddenly the nausea, weight loss, exhaustion took on a whole new meaning.

I gave Matt a few more chances to be a grown-up but he was conflicted, defiant, dishonest. He didn't want to have to do the work to change for the better, he just wanted to move me into his house, get married & pretend like everything was all right. For me, that was not even a consideration. I am lucky to have a family that felt that if didn't want to marry him, I shouldn't marry him. Period. His uber-conservative family tried to sway me, but I stood my ground. Though I was scared, I learned quickly to embrace this pregnancy with all my heart.

Yet somehow I could never seem to relax. I'd have an ultrasound and immediately want to know how soon I could have the next one. Very, very worried for a healthy 25-year-old with absolutely no history of pregnancy complications in mine or Matt's family. At 12 weeks, my doctor was able to squeeze me in for an impromptu ultrasound. He spent a good ten minutes scoping out the baby and assuring me I should not be so worried. At minute 10, he stopped talking. A couple more minutes passed before he told me that he had a concern. "I see some swelling on the back of the neck," he said. My stomach sunk. I wanted to know what that could mean, what I could do. I could tell from the look on his face that he really was worried. "Worst case, it could be a cystic hygroma," he said. And even worse, it turned out there was absolutely nothing I could do. I was sent home while his nurses spent an hour on the phone waiting to book me in with the UNC specialists at the hospital for the next morning.

Matt--ever so supportive--told me my tears were an overreaction. "He just said there was a little swelling. We don't even know what it is yet," he insisted, trying to quiet me. But I had a very bad feeling. I spent that night doing a ton of research and talking to my family. The next morning after very little sleep, I went to the specialty center for my ultrasound. The picture was so clear. I could see the little fingers, the precious toes, the baby waving to me, and almost instantly, the cystic hygroma. The rest of the day went by in a fog, a meeting with the genetic counselor, a vaginal and then an abdominal CVS test. I was told on that day that my baby had a 20% chance of being born healthy. I was stoic, focusing on the facts, right up until they sent me home. Once home, with my apartment door safely locked behind me, I crawled into my bed with my dog and cried very hard for a very long time.

Ever since, I have prayed and prayed. The young woman who does not like to ask for help became the mother who reached out fervently to God and all her loved ones. Everyone promised to pray. Each step of the way, I have not given up. The CVS preliminary test was clear, then the final results were clear as well. My odds went up to 30-40% survival. I also found out he is a baby boy. In the visits that followed, the heartbeat remained strong and steady. Then two days ago (5/26) I went in for my 15 week ultrasound. I could again see the little fingers, the precious toes, the baby waving and moving around. The ultrasound tech measured the bones and scanned the blood flow while we waited for the Braxton-Hicks contractions to subside so the baby would move and we could check the hygroma size. The baby shifted and he measured the back of the neck. From where I sat, it looked much smaller, but I couldn't be sure. Then he said it, "There doesn't seem to be anything on the back of the neck." Really? "Did there used to be?" he asked. Oh yeah, I responded. Then he switched angles to view the head from above and almost instantly, I could see it. There was nothing there. "The hygroma is gone," he said. To me those were the sweetest words he could have uttered.

Now I know I have to wait for my 18 week appointment to check the four chambers of the heart and possibly do further genetic testing and that this entire pregnancy will continue to be an uphill battle for me and for this child. But after that doctor's visit, I started to smile more and started to really believe that there is hope. Today I finally put ultrasound pictures on my pregnancy profile. I'm letting myself take belly pictures and think about names. The odds of a hygroma going from 6 mm to less than 1 mm (which is considered normal) within three weeks are almost unheard of. I have to hold onto that; I have to believe in that with all my heart. I pray that the news will continue to be good news, but in spite of all the hurdles, today I am grateful.

6/21/09 I am elated! The 18/19 week ultrasound on Friday showed no defects at all. He is measuring well and was so active. My mom and I sat and watched as he bounced all over the place, crossed his legs & arms, and changed positions repeatedly. The maternal/fetal specialist actually said, "I think you're done with us." My genetic counselor said the odds of my baby being born healthy have gone from the initial 20% up to 95%. 95 freakin' percent! I cannot express how happy this news has made me. This whole painful experience thus far has taught me so much about myself and has certainly put this pregnancy into perspective. Being a single mother will not be easy, but I am so appreciative for the chance to raise a healthy son. Thank God.