The whole nine months

Sounds like history if I talk about my pregnancy here since that has been a year ago (from June-February to be exact). But part of me says that I should write about it, so I'm giving in to that urge. Besides, hubby insists that I tell the world (at least to those who patiently read my blogs) what I'd been through that whole nine months -- who knows, it may be a blessing, a warning or simply an info you wanna know. So here it goes.

The beginnings. Sometime in June last year, I got sick -- I lost my voice! Naturally, I had to see a doc for some meds. I couldn't afford to be sick even just for a couple of days coz of my no-work-no-pay status. At the clinic, the doc asked if I'm preggy, and I said right away NO. Little did I know that, at that time, there was already that tiny thingy growing in my womb. Days passed and I was having cramps -- an unusual thing for me to feel before my monthly period. At two weeks delayed visit, my hints were confirmed with my home preg test. So, on the next clinic day, we went to see an ob-gyne (where we waited for more than an hour before we'd have our turn to be served -- and that's normal here in Japan). At first, we were filled with so much excitement, but the sensei wasn't sympathetic enough to at least feel happy for us. We told him that we have waited for this baby for six long years, and all he could say was, "it's too early to say if that thing is dead or alive or would grow or not, so just come back after three weeks." Grrrrr! It was our first visit, and we've got nothing but cold comments.

Dismayed with the first one, we went to another English-speaking sensei three weeks after. Alas, this time we heard him saying "congratureetions!" many times. And while doing the ultrasound, he excitedly said "genki, genki!" for a couple times. We were so happy especially when we heard the baby's heartbeat. I could not exactly describe how we felt moreso when we saw him move -- he kicked his feet and waved his hands as if greeting us "hi"!

Now, here comes the sad part. On our next visit three weeks after, we didn't hear any genki words at all. Sensei was silent all along until he uttered these words, "there's problem with the baby." At first, I thought it was a minor one, but I was wrong. He explained to us that there was a thin white lining on the head and neck area of the baby. He said that as an expert in his field, that tiny lining was a tumor. Yes, that was his term. I could not believe what I was hearing from the doctor. Still gaining my composure, we asked, "what has caused that thing?" "what's the remedy to that?" Sensei said that there are many possible causes, sadly though, there is no remedy or cure for that. So we asked again, "What should we do then? He right away answered, "ABORT THE BABY." He said that in a tone as if just plainly saying, "sit down." We were shocked. I burst into tears in front of sensei. He was kind enough to give me a bunch of tissue to wipe my tears off. What if we continue my pregnancy?, I asked. Sensei said that my life would be at risk too. The baby might not even reach full term, if ever he does, his weakening body would soon fail, 2 months at most. I almost fainted upon hearing those words. I could hardly breathe. Our world suddenly turned upside down.

We went home after that with an indescribable feeling of anxiety, doubt, sadness, fear, all merged into one. We couldn't sleep, we couldn't eat, we did nothing but cry in slumber -- and we took turns in crying (one had to be strong enough to comfort the other). At one point in that lowly state, I figured that my baby was crying with us and feeling sad that he might leave us soon. So, I talked to him saying to hold on and be brave for this will soon pass. I had to be strong -- both physically and emotionally -- for my baby. Any further crying could trigger my BP to go up, thus making the baby more at risk.

I asked God, WHY? Why do we have to be in this situation? Why does our baby have to be at risk and suffer so much? Why are you taking our baby back so soon that we haven't even started enjoying our parenthood? Then, as if God answered my questions, I realized that maybe, God is telling us something ... no, not maybe. He is telling us something. So, at that night, Aldrin and I prayed to God and gave it all to Him who knows what's best for us. We asked for comfort as we go through the heart-breaking process, and we asked for wisdom and enlightenment on how to put things together. Should our good Lord's will to take back our baby soon, we prayed that He'd take him in His own way, not with our own decision nor in the hands of the unsympathethic doctors; but if He so allows our baby to see light in this world, we prayed for His healing hands to be upon our angel. After that hearty prayer, I felt a little calm and light.

Two days after, we went to Toudai (Tokyo University) Hospital for second opinion. The doctor gave the same findings but with some good news -- the head part was found to be okay and the swelling (or edema in medical term) was seen only at the back of neck area. In a soft manner, sensei asked me if I wanted to have an abortion. I said NO because my Christian faith tells me not to, no matter what the cost. But I conceded in using our case for any related medical researchwork.

I had two doctors in Toudai. The second one patiently explained everything to us (he has good command of English). He said that our baby has cystic hygroma, septated type. There were two septas seen measuring about 9mm in diameter. These septas contained liquid (appeared black in ultrasound) and solid (white) forms (also called tumor). He said that the chances of survival for babies with septas sized 3.5 and up are very small.

Since we were ignoramus about these things, we did our own e-research to better understand and look at some similar cases. I could not dare and bear to take a look longer than a second at the pictures I saw. I could not imagine my baby to look like that. I was losing hope, but a greater part of me was saying to have faith in God.

Several tests were done to somehow determine the cause. I could not exactly remember now what were the "choices" before, but I do recall that the sensei told me it could probably be due to some chromosomal anomalies (I call it chromosomal abnormalities coz I associate anomaly with something that should not have done). Since I have decided to continue to full term, sensei explained that there were 3 possible outcomes: Turner syndrome, Down syndrome, and 18-trisomy. There was actually a 4th one (the most serious one), but sensei just ignored that.

We had several visits at Toudai. At each visit, the septas' size was getting smaller such that the liquid part had soon disappeared -- thus, our hope was getting bigger, smiles getting better. When we found out that I was having a baby boy, the Turner syndrome was ruled out since this illness is associated only with baby girls (could grow into adulthood but have shorter life span, and sterile; the abnormality is in the sex chromosome). As the baby in my tummy got bigger, the problrmatic area in his neck got smaller -- until the time that sensei declared, "your baby is very, very fine." Oh, praise God! A miracle had just happened! So, the 18-trisomy was ruled out also.

Before I flew back to Pinas, I still had one thorough test to check for signs of Down syndrome (this is usually associated with mothers getting pregnant at 35 and up; most babies are mentally retarded, mongoloid). Sensei used a very sophisticated machine, which, according to him, only Toudai has it. He scrutinized every single part of the baby, particularly the heart and brain. To his surprise, he did not see a single symptom of the Down syndrome -- and this is clearly a miracle. In other words, all the possible congenital effects were ruled out.

I went back to the Philippines happy, yet with a little worry still lingering within me. At first, I had doubts with the ultrasound machines they have in the hospital (coz I got used to seeing clear screen here in Japan) but I had faith in my doctors' (take note, plural) expertise and opinion. I had a congenital anomaly scanning and found everything okay with my baby.

The giving birth. I was supposed to be due March 10, but my baby came out about two weeks earlier. Funny part of this story is that I was admitted twice. Well, the first one was a false alarm. I stayed at the hospital for two nights only to have a good sleep. I was discharged on our 3rd morning, only to go back there at one hour past that midnight. And that's the appointed day and time -- February 26th of this year, at 9:26am (a day after Edsa revolt, and 6 hours after Tin-tin Bersola-Babaw gave birth to her Sofia). I don't have to elaborate here how I went with the labor pains, and all that comes with giving birth. I want to emphasize though that I felt so much relieved when I saw my baby -- when he was flopped on top of my tummy right after he came out -- with HAIR (well, just for the record, coz I didn't see any hair in the ultrasound). I also saw my doctor holding his back neck area and somehow feeling the somewhat bulging skin on it. My doctors knew my case and they put particular attention to that. So, I right away asked doc, "How's my baby? Is he fine?" She replied, "Your baby is fine, and we'll take care of him. In the meantime, you better go to sleep now coz you're tired." I never felt tired; nonetheless, I drifted off into dreamland.

Who are you? This was my question to the voice talking to me when I woke up, still eyes closed (after more than 2 hours of sleeping I think). Ah, she's my baby's pedia. I didn't have so much recollection of how my baby looks like so she puts him near to me, still lying on that labor bed. She said that that bulging skin is ONLY a skin, you know, an extra skin. She also said that many babies have that kind and turned out to be perfectly fine. And yeah, my baby now is perfectly fine, except for some rashes though.

Where's dadi? Hmm, where was he when I gave birth to our firstborn? Well, while I was in my mood to make my silent (yes, no sound, and with eyes closed) ere, he was still in ere -- flying his way to Manila, and to Laguna. So, my baby and I was already in our room when he arrived. How did he feel when he saw his son? Why don't you ask him? (he better get his own blogsite now to tell the world what he feels as a father ...hehehe!) Of course, he was overjoyed ... and with tears! Finally, our son is born, despite all the threats to his life. Indeed, God is so faithful to us that He NEVER left us alone.

And our journey to that threat to our son's life has ended. Another one, not a threat but a challenge, has begun -- parenthood!

Lesson of this veeery long story? No matter what happens, don't put things into your own hands (and minds). Trust Him whose wisdom is faaaar greater than any highly educated man in this world.

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PS: To add to the long story, I started drafting this post on Sept 20th (which I used here as post date), but was able to finish only this Nov 3rd -- just imagine how long nine months is.