Part 4: The results are in

This is part 4 of a many part series. To follow along, you might first wanna read Part 1: Pregnancy loss after loss after loss after loss and Part 2: New Family Expansion plan and Part 3: What if this one is disabled, too?

I didn’t realize how unprepared I was for the news that came.

Estonia is a very tiny nation. It’s got 1.3 million people which means everyone knows everyone. Options of many kinds can be limited.

A well-known Estonian home and family magazine planned to publish an article on Eloise in March. As part of that, on that Monday in late February, a guy from the NIPTify genetics lab in Estonia that had handled Eloise’s original blood sample in pregnancy called me to ask some clarifying questions. He was puzzled — he was sure their lab would have noticed her large DNA deletion and flagged it when we did the sample years ago. But, soon, we solved the mystery. Beecause Eloise was still a twin at the time, the blood sample was more complicated and, therefore, was processed by a lab in the USA that could handle twins. They only scanned for and mentioned major trisomy genetic disorders like Down Syndrome — which they told us she didn’t have.

As the man and I continued talking, I mentioned we were actually expecting another baby and that we’d just done a blood screening test the week before. “Yes, I saw that. The results will be ready from our lab tomorrow. Actually, I’ll be looking at them myself.”

I also went on to mention my worry that the blood test only looked for a handful of trisomies — I wished there was a way to do whole genome sequencing with a blood test to check for far more anomalies without doing an invasive procedure like an amnio. He said, actually, even though officially NIPTify only tested for those trisomies, any larger or obvious DNA deletion or abnormality would be clear. He still reminded me, though — as countless doctors and genetic counselors already had — that no blood test result would be as accurate as an amniocentisis. I was aware, but told him as a parent of an already genetically abnormal kid, I really wanted to know more beyond those trisomies if they saw something. The kind man promised me he’d check the results personally and let me know if there was anything off the next day. (Although, an update since this conversation, Estonia’s NIPTify test now officially screens for far more genetic syndromes than just the few they listed back then — including one that overlaps with Eloise’s deletion.)

That did give me some reassurance — I was going to get way more information than I expected. Maybe that would give me peace somehow.

Yet, still, I was terrified of the outcome.

Later that night, as I mentioned in the last post, I meditated — asking God for his thoughts on what we should do if we didn’t get good news. And, if you’ve read part 3, you already know how that went.

So on late Tuesday morning, when the NIPTify guy’s name popped up in my facebook messenger, I took a deep breath, opened the chat, and braced myself for the worst.

I sat there, stunned. Wait — it wasn’t bad news? I wasn’t prepared for this scenario. I’d only imagined the worst.

Okay, still, “no sign of any chromosomal diseases” didn’t necessarily mean everything was okay. At this point, I know many parents of kids with devastating, rare single-gene disorders — issues no one anywhere tests for.

But, as my doctor had pointed out to me a number of times in this pregnancy already, all this little guy’s ultrasounds have been normal so far. And, well, now we had a normal blood test result.

Could it be that everything was, well — normal?

I closed my laptop and ssat in stillness for a moment.

As I soaked up the silence, taking stock of my emotions, I noticed a shift had happened in me.

I was excited.

I was excited?

I was excited!

We were going to have another baby! We weren’t sure this was possible but here we were — our family was going to be expanding.

Then. I realized I had 6 more months of waiting — and probably worrying — before he was born.

How in the world was I going to get through the next 6 months without a stress breakdown? How was I going to handle the anxiety that would inevitably come? Knowing that I wanted to be the kind of parent who loved my kid no matter what happened, how would I even attach to an imagined future or pray for him?

We had a long road ahead of us before this baby actually came home. And I had a feeling it was not going to be an easy ride.

How we’ve been weathering it all is next — Part 5: Navigating the Pregnancy Anxiety Rollercoaster.

All our love,

Mallory, Brian, and Eloise

P.S. It feels fitting to note that one year ago exactly, on our 15th wedding anniversary, we were surprised to learn we were pregnant — naturally. If you read part 1, you’ll know we lost that baby a few weeks later. But what you don’t know is that we named that baby Edwin — which means friend. As we’ve named each of the children we lost, it’s felt like their names have been some sort of declaration over our lives. Ava (life) we felt meant we would still go on to carry life in my womb. Leonid (lion-hearted) we felt meant we aim to choose love over fear in times when it’s easier to run away. And Edwin (friend), we felt meant that someday we’d have a child who would choose, as an adult peer, to be our friend. And here we are, a year later, finally ready to tell others that this promise might be coming true after all.

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