"your baby has cleft lip." and other crazy things we've heard during this pregnancy.

**I wrote this way back on January 8th, a few hours after our OB/GYN called to tell me she had some concerning news about our baby. I didn't post it at the time, just saved these thoughts in an email to myself and Drew. And now, we're nearly 33 weeks pregnant, and we've seen a specialist three times, who has virtually no concerns about our baby or how the pregnancy is going. But I'm still trying to have the mindset of the notes below, that everything about this baby is in God's hands and that we are not called to be fearful or fret. Thanks for being a part of this ride with us. We are so thankful for great friendships. 

January 8, 2015

We had our half-way ultrasound this morning, ​we are 19 weeks along, and the appointment was to tell us the gender, get a good look at the babe, and such.

For a brief moment today, after my doctor called with not so wonderful news from the ultrasound, I was kicking myself for being naive. Really, I thought, I am very aware of things that can go wrong - friends with preemies, (I'm talking MAJOR preemies), heart surgeries for infants, and even things like Down's Syndrome, autism, and dozens of other unexpected challenges parents face as a result of their children's health.

I felt stupid for a brief moment. Really, Courtney, you just thought the ultra sound would be all giggles and smiles and simply finding out if it was a boy or a girl? You should have gone in there with wide eyes, aware of numerous issues the baby could be facing. Then maybe you would not be caught so off-guard right now. 

But no. If Drew and I learn anything from this, this not-so-terrible, not-so-wonderful news, let it be that we should NOT become worriers. Our faith calls us to much more than that. Our trust should be elsewhere. Let us not become fretters who head to the doctor for a routine visit fearing the worst. Let us keep our hopeful hearts, our calm assurance that no matter what, no matter how high the waters rise or how much our ship may pitch in the storm, we are not worriers. We are not fearful.

Paul writes in second Timothy "God did not give us a spirit of fear, but of power and love and self-control." (2 Tim 1:7)

Your baby has a cleft lip, Dr. Patni told me today on the phone.

I love Dr. Patni. She has our complete trust, she is so personable and knowledgeable and an excellent doctor from our perspective.

Our baby has a cleft lip, I called to tell Drew a little while later. Dr. Patni is sending us to a specialist to be sure it's not also a cleft palate. Cleft lip, she says, is really just cosmetic. Cleft palate can affect the baby in areas like feeding and speech and often requires more frequent surgeries as they grow up. And sometimes it's associated with other syndromes/problems.

My mom walked in to our studio (office) just as I had gotten off the phone with Dr. Patni. She rarely just drops by and there are many work days that we don't even see each other. (though we work together.)

Telling her out loud the news, just as it was sinking in for me, brought the tears out. She hugged me and told me this was all things we could handle. I took some deep breaths, and of course, googled it. I found that the Cleftline Foundation had a great FAQs page with simple, calming information. First thing to do, it said? Take deep breaths.

So many emotions and thoughts have rushed through my mind this afternoon. And I know this - having things not go perfectly in this pregnancy is not going to make me one of those hand-wringing, what's the worst that could be coming my way, worrisome, negative people. I wish for more, for better, for those souls. My great-grandmother turned into one of those in her 80s and 90s, and though she had many great attributes and I loved to be near her whenever I could, that quality was not becoming or endearing.

We have so many reasons to hope, to be light-hearted, to be joyful. Both spiritually and culturally. For starters, this may be nothing more than a cosmetic issue and a scar that fades with time. We do need to rule a few other things out that could be more concerning, but. There is already so much grace washed all over me and Drew. We have supportive families. We had parents that pushed us to seek strong educations, which led to stable careers, which led to the ability to choose jobs that have great healthcare. We have an amazing doctor. We did nothing to deserve that we were born American. (Though I joke Drew was born out of the country, because he was born in Oklahoma. Looking at you, Renza.)

We live in a free country that is, granted, imperfect, but where healthcare is the most advanced in the world. My mom's at the top of the list of people that this baby has ready to fight for it, to research best doctors and practices.

Another thought that jumped to mind today: I don't want people being nice to my baby just because he or she looks different while they're a baby. (and possibly later in life, too.) Don't pity my baby, I thought. This baby will be a fighter! Have you met its parents?! One of us did an Ironman Triathlon, for Pete's sake! (Hint: it wasn't me.)

Anyways, back to all the things we don't deserve, like our families and friends and educations and living in America instead of say, Zambia. (Not hating on Zambia, I just realize that having a baby in America is far more advanced than literally hundreds of other countries.)

On top of all that, we have hope. Hope not from me or you or of this world.

There are things in this life that I cannot explain, though I love to ramble and I love to use words and I may try, still, there are things for which I cannot get it together to explain. 

I have no words to explain things like the fact that I knew, the day I went to the gravel runway where my dad's plane had crashed, I knew, without a DOUBT, that Christ had been there. I knelt in the dirt with tears on my face and though I felt such loss that Dad was gone, I felt such peace. Peace that passes understanding. I knew, my dad was NOT alone when he died.

And though far less tragic, though you cannot call a cleft lip "devastating" or "unfair" in the way we describe Jay's cancer or my dad's plane crash, still, today, in the same indescribable way, I knew - we are watched over. We are not promised fairness or the easy road, but we are promised eternal things.

I kept hearing the verse from Isiah over and over this Christmas season. "He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."

We celebrate Christmas, but do we live it?

That Wonderful Counselor, that Mighty God, he knit this baby in my womb, cleft lip or not. That Everlasting Father is going to strengthen Drew and I through Him as we become parents. And when things seem uncertain or awful, that Prince of Peace is going to be there to hear our prayers, our cries, and our shouts of joy.

And oh, sweet friends, let us shout for joy, for today we find out we're having a .... BOY!