The news you don't want to hear.

Yesterday, to put it lightly, was not a good day for us. And now looking into the future, I stand to gather that we may face a few more that are equally as intolerable.

Two weeks ago, Justin and I went in for an early ultrasound to see if we could tell Baby #2's gender and just to take a peek. For some reason, even though I was only 15 1/2 weeks, the ultrasound tech decided to take measurements of Baby's brain, and found an abnormality. Although scared, we were slightly comforted by the idea that at this early stage it is still prime time for baby brain development and it could be just a fluke.

As we left, we were scheduled for a repeat ultrasound with a different sonographer for two weeks.

Yesterday was two weeks.

Going into the doctor's office yesterday afternoon, Justin and I had in the back of our minds and felt certain that everything was going to look great, and we were having a perfectly healthy baby.

The ultrasound started, we held hands.  Baby #2 cooperated and showed us all of his boy parts and even waved a few times. I prayed silently as tears ran down my cheeks.

Then I asked. I asked the question that I asked a dozen times before when I was pregnant with Ellery. "Does everything look okay?"

The ultrasound tech slowly put down her magic wand, leaned in closely to show as much sincere sympathy as possible, and said, "I know this is not what you want to hear, (Justin squeezed my hand) but I do see an abnormality in his head, so I am going to take it piece by piece and have a good look at everything so we can figure out what is going on."

She took pictures of his spine, of his heart, and of his brain. There were leg pictures and feet pictures, stomach pictures, and neck pictures. While she was taking pictures, I was crying. Sobbing really. I didn't ask anymore questions.

We were special enough to bypass the waiting room and be escorted directly to the room where the doctor would meet with us. We didn't wait long, but the wait felt like an eternity. My doctor came in with a face that said it all. Her words (and this is where it gets a little blurry for me, so Justin has to help me out), "I am so sorry you guys. This doesn't look good."

She proceeded to explain what appeared to be happening in the ultrasound pictures. The baby's brain seems to be sliding into the back of its head and resting in the spinal cavity. The spine appears to be opening up to let the brain slide even farther down. This is called Arnold-Chiari Malformation. There also appears to be several other defects in different organs and parts of the body.

Then Justin asked the loaded question, "So what does this mean?"

Then come words that I'll never forget, "This is something we see in textbooks. We just don't see this very often in real life. With a condition like this, we see many things that can go wrong.  The spine may not develop normally, resulting in a baby born without legs. Neurological and respiratory problems will usually accompany, making the baby incompatible with life. It may, at best, live 24 hours after birth."

Here's where I really lost it. After the abnormality was confirmed, we were thinking Down syndrome or some other syndrome or defect, but no where in our mind did we think our baby would not survive.

So here we are.

That's all we know.

We have an 8:30 AM appointment with a specialist in Jackson, MS to confirm and to talk about what comes next.

We are nowhere strong enough to do this alone, but in the hands of our Father, we can overcome anything and use it for his glory. This is our prayer. We pray for strength in the days ahead, as we make difficult decisions and hear news that is likely to feel as if it is more than we can bear. We ask for you to pray with us.