Diagnosis: Survival.

Here's an update.

A beautiful update.

Around 6 AM this morning we left and headed for our follow up ultrasound in Jackson. A dear friend from church offered to drive us so we wouldn't have to face the unknown by ourselves. We drove about an hour and a half to arrive nearly an hour early. (Have I ever mentioned I am an awfully punctual person?) We paced around the medical office building, we twiddled our thumbs, and occasionally let out rather loud, anxious sighs.

We were nervous.

They opened the waiting room around 8 AM and let us come in and sit down. Sitting didn't help anything. Magazine didn't distract me either. I started to shake. And on more than one occasion told Justin I didn't want to do it. I didn't want it confirmed.

I didn't want to know for sure. 

We were called back and I was instructed to go empty my bladder, take my pants off, and cover up with a sheet - the ultrasound tech would be in shortly. And she was. She came right in. She checked my cervix and then proceeded to drizzle warm ultrasound gel on my 18 week tummy.

She scanned for what seemed like forever, but I couldn't look at the monitor. Every out-of-the-corner-of-my-eye glance made me fall deeper in love with this helpless, beautiful, active little boy, and it also made me sad. Thirty minutes later, she was finished. She announced the doctor would be in shortly and would want to take a look at a few things.

So we waited.

A man that looked like a gray-haired hippy with a long beard and a shaggy pony-tail walked in the room, introduced himself, and began looking at pictures. He then told the nurse he wanted to look at the right foot. They looked at it for what seemed like 10 minutes.

Then he wanted to look at the brain. In detail.

And the spine.

Then a specific spot on the spine.

Then they zoomed in, found a different angle, and zoomed in some more.

That's when he quietly said, "There's the Spina Bifida. Mark it."

The scan came to a close shortly thereafter. He sat down and said, "Casie, you can go get dressed. We think it is Spina Bifida and we will discuss what that means when you get back."

In no time I was back, sitting anxiously beside Justin as he held my hand ever so tightly.

The doctor began talking about all sorts of things. He talked about statistics and folic acid. About c-sections and surgeries;  shunts in the brain and walking canes. He discussed possible paralysis and catheters. But most importantly, the only thing that mattered, he discussed LIFE.

He told us we were having a wonderfully unique little boy. One that we're going to get to love, and hug, and kiss, and rock, and change dirty diapers.

Joyful news! Brother's spina bifida is in the best possible spot it can be. It is located just above the tail bone, way down at the bottom of his spine, which is awesome!

There is fluid build up in the brain, but they will continue to monitor it throughout my pregnancy. Shortly after birth, the doctors will place a shunt in his head that routes the excess fluids to their proper places, easing the pressure on the brain.

They are scheduling a c-section for 36-37 weeks, as to avoid any contractions. (Strong, prolonged contractions can push amniotic fluid into the open area on the spine, causing more nerve damage and increasing the risk for infection.)

Our doctor was kind. Patient. WONDERFUL. He answered every question we had. He was straight forward. He was positive! He told us everything was going to be just fine.

We're not out of the woods yet. We still have quite the journey to make, but it will be a joyful journey. One that will be filled with stress and decisions and a lot of medical opinions, but we will rejoice! We are rejoicing!

Please continue to pray for us and Little Brother. Complications are likely to arise and stressful times are sure to come, but we stand strong in the Lord - as he, clearly, is still in the business of working miracles!

Glory be to God!