The begining of the story...

I have decided that I just need to start typing. Not wait for a time where I feel my words will flow eloquently, but just type!

I guess I should start from the beginning.
Wed. March 12th. Luke, Adi and I went into the doctors office at 8:30 for a monthly check up as well as to determine the gender of our child. Lynn Ensminger, the nurse practitioner, was seeing me this day because Dr. Altman was out due to knee surgery. She began the ultrasound and started with the measurements. The baby was at a good wight, and the bones/brain measured perfect, but then she said that something that every mom prays she doesn't ever have to hear..."I think you are having a girl, but I am going to send you to the radiologist to do further ultrasounds because the babies heart is to the far side of the body. She explained that the heart looks to be pushed over and something is in the heart area. Luke and I looked at each other with heavy hearts, not knowing what to think.
Lynn asked me to keep my bladder full, and head over to 600 Coffee Sutter Gould. Adi was getting fussy by this time so we decided that it would be best if Luke take her on a walk while I went in for another sonogram. For the next two hours I layed on the doctors bed and had ultrasounds done. Pam, the lab technician did the first hour of tests. She then called the doctor into the room. They continued taking pictures, trying to gather information. They were unsure about something (they kept whispering...) but never told me what it was. A third lab tech came into the room to take a look. Eventually they sent me into the hall so they could discuss, and when they came out, all Pam told me was that Dr. Altman's office would be giving me a call. Luke had taken Adi home by this point and so I walked home with many thoughts, unanswered questions and fears running through my head. When I got home, Luke and I wept and prayed and wept more. It was a very long afternoon as we waited for someone to call. At about 3 o'clock that afternoon, the receptionist called to let us know that Dr. Altman wanted to send me to a periantologist because there were "no specific findings." She was going to have to set up an appt with either Dr. Johnson or Dr. Hershey. That was all the info that she could give us at the time. Overnight, my desire to study up on pregnancy books turned to simply studying the scriptures...

Thur, March 13th. Today was a day full of waiting. We waited until 2:30p.m to find out from Gina at dr. Altmans that our appt. was set with Dr. Johnson the next morning at 7:30 a.m. That night I did some research on the computer and saw something that sounded like what the doctors had seen. The article said that it was the most devastating and difficult form of abnormalities, and that survival rate was fairly low. They called it Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia (CDH). I tried to tell myself that this was not the case...but we would see in the morning. I didn't sleep very well that night, anxious about the findings of the next day.

We sat in the waiting room for over an hour. Waiting. We were finally called back and taken into a very cold room where a sonogram was performed. The lady was very nice, but I could tell that something was terribly wrong. Luke kept holding my hand and telling me that "no matter what, we will be okay." After about 1/2 hour, she called Dr. Johnson into the room. Dr. Johnson took her own pictures for about 20 minutes, not saying much, being very gentle with me.

When she was finished, she said "I am going to have you come into my office and we will talk about your precious little girl." I knew it was bad news. She got quiet. Her countenance changed. She was mourning for us.

Dr. Johnson handled the situation very well. She was so compassionate. She gently told us that our Olivianna Grace had CDH as well as a spinal abnormality. That the chances of survival were very very slim. She let us cry in her office for a while as she called UCSF in the other room. She told us that she wanted us to go there and get a deeper ultrasound, and see if we would be candidates for a surgery called tracheal occlusion.

By the time we got into the elevator from her office, UCSF had called. We were scheduled for Monday morning.