When my anxious thoughts multiply within me,Your consolations delight my soul.
We saw our precious baby on Friday.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11
A beautiful baby.
A baby who is measuring a week behind in terms of weight and development.
A baby who is loved beyond measure
A baby who is already loved by his big brother (Little T pats my belly and says “Ba ba ba” and then kisses it. Melts. My. Heart)
Today we got a call from our Doctor.
I missed the first call, and called back only to be told that they made a “special” appointment for me on friday.
I asked if it was bad news.
The receptionist told me that it was nothing to worry about.
I wanted to call her bluff.
A mother knows when something is wrong.
Yet at the same time, I have a weird sense of peace in my heart. A God is with me, type of peace.
I did my best not to cry and stomp my feet, trying to get what I wanted.
I called HotBabyDaddy, told him that there was nothing to worry about. But that doctors don’t make appointments just to chitchat.
I finished making lunch for Little T and I.
The phone rang.
It was our Doctor. Himself. Not his receptionist. Not the booking lady. But our doctor.
He calmly asked me how my ultrasound went.
I told him aside from the baby measuring behind, I wasn’t too worried.
(The U/S tech told me that the baby was consistantly measuring a week behind. Not a big deal)
He then calmly told me if I knew what a cleft lip was.
My heart sank. But only for a moment.
You see, at the appointment I noticed something.
I saw that Bubsies beautiful perfect lips looked a little off.
I noticed that the U/S tech spent a great deal of time putting markings on my sweet babes face.
And more importantly, she (the U/S tech) told me that she needed to talk to the radiologist before we left.
I brushed it off.
Our Doctor told us that our precious, sweet baby has a cleft lip.
That’s why he wants us to come in on friday.
He told us that we will be refered to a specialist in the city.
That we will get more ultrasounds and see Bubsie more.
That Bubsie will have to have surgery.
I am not angry.
I will not ask “why has this happened to me”.
When baby has to go for surgery, I will worry.
But I will pray. And more importantely,
I will trust that He knows what He is doing.