2 words that make me sick to my stomach....

Balanced translocation.

2 numbers that make my stomach churn.

11 and 22.


These words and numbers used alone and NOT together are not a problem to me. It's when you group them together I get nauseated. I see them online or hear someone else say Balanced translocation, my heart skips a beat and I get excited, then sad. Excited because FINALLY someone else knows EXACTLY how I feel and shares this rare "fluke" with me.......Then sad because I know they have walked the same hard road I walk, felt the same guilt and self hatred I have felt, but mostly asked God why more times than they can count.

When Allen and I were trying to conceive (ttc) we had fertility testing done. I was convinced I had endometriosis or some other female disease or syndrome that would leave me infertile for life. I was mortified at the thought that I would never be able to have children. I would obsess about what was wrong with me fertility wise....before I even knew there was something wrong with me. I don't know why but I always feared not having children. I was never one of those people that went through life saying "i'm going to be a doctor, a nurse, an astronaut or even the president". I just wanted to be a mommy........okay so there was that one year I wanted to grow up and be a rockette, realizing back then that I was way to short to even be able to try out...I decided I would be fulfilled and happy being a wife and mother. (although sometimes I will do kicks in the living room to entertain Makily from time to time....JUST KIDDING...okay not really)
So after 6 months of trying my stupid obgyn told me I had low progesterone and that he would prescribe clomid (mild fertility drug). I FREAKED out. All my years of worrying and wondering what was wrong with me had come to fruition...I HAD LOW PROGESTERONE.....I knew it, I just knew something was wrong. So after reeling in depression over that diagnosis I began taking clomid. This medication made me cry all day long and want to watch Steel Magnolias and Lifetime original movies long into the night. My first month on clomid I had HORRIBLE pelvic pain and went in to have an ultrasound. Oh the joy and fun that was. Imagine holding about 2 gallons of urine while having someone press on your stomach in the midst of stabbing pelvic pain. This lady had ZERO sympathy for me and my busting bladder and actually had the nerve to ask if I had drank the 2 gallons of prescribed fluids before the test. (okay not 2 gallons but it sure felt like it) YES I DRANK ALL OF IT! Then she instructed me to drink more....I gulped down another 8 ounces and laid down for more torture. She finished that part of the ultrasound and then told me to empty my bladder....but just a little....ARE YOU CRAZY I am thinking...just a little!? How am I supposed to do that.....I feel like a racehorse right now and you want me to pinch it off!?!? So I waddled with my legs crossed to the bathroom and peed....just a little. This was torture! I lay back down on the table and she explains she is going to do a transvaginal u/s. *sigh*. For those who do not know what that is....it's basically a "probe" type device that is err.....uhmmmm inserted into the vagina. So imagine holding what is now half a gallon of pee with said probe in vagina moving around pressing on my bladder. I have never held pee this hard in my life.
So the obgyn calls with my u/s results and says I have several follicular cysts bursting everywhere. Fluid in my pelvic cavity and that it's a good sign that I am ovulating. Oh wonderful. The next month on clomid I experienced the same pains BUT they were even worse than last month and I was walking hunched over. I went back to the obgyn and he said "well you have cysts bursting everywhere and I am just missing something so I want to refer you to a specialist in Gainesville".
So off to the specialist we go. We sit down with the doctor who tells me that he can't find the lab results saying my progesterone level was low. I show it to him to which he replies "13.7??? that is not low progesterone, who told you it was low?" MY OBGYN DID, WHO DO YOU THINK!??! He then explained that my level was NORMAL and that all the pelvic pain from the previous 2 months of clomid use was most likely caused by ovarian hyperstimulation. (I matured too many eggs at once) His advice was to try for another 5 months. If we wanted to do some very preliminary testing such as genetic or hormonal that we could but he felt we should wait another 5 months. I agreed and besides my hormone levels were fine and genetic testing...sheesh I don't have any genetic problems, I didnt even think twice about it.
I had a few other procedures with my NEW obgyn and even had a laparoscopy that was normal. Finally I was starting to think that all my worrying and wondering was for nothing. I was NORMAL, I needed to stop stressing and I would get pregnant.

Finally I did.

After 15 months of trying we found out on Allen's birthday I was pregnant. HOW EXCITED AND BLESSED I FELT!

Fast forward through a very normal happy pregnancy and very normal ultrasounds.

I had Makily and the MOMENT I saw her I KNEW something was wrong with her. I knew it was bad....I just didnt know what. They diagnosed her with trisomy 22 when she was 6 days old. They werent sure if it involved another chromosome but they said it may involve 11. I asked how this happened and it was then that it hit me....I knew. This was what was wrong with me all this time. The thing I had brushed aside and never gave much thought too....genetics. The doctor told me it could be a fluke and just one of those "things that happen". OR that Allen or myself could be "carriers". He explained that if one of us was a carrier it is possibly the reason why it took me so long to get pregnant. Most trisomy 11 or 22 babies are miscarried early on before you even know you are pregnant.
My heart was sinking fast. Taking in that Makily would be severely handicapped in EVERY WAY, being told they werent sure of her life expectency and then BAM......now it may be something you passed down to her......you did this to her. It was too much for me to take and I was so angry. I hated the world.

They took our blood to test Allen and I the same day. I got into a fight with the lady at the hospital lab because she was a raging B*tch and was very rude to me, she was confused of what test was being ordered and instead of calling upstairs to the doctor...she took it out on me and talked to me like I was a 5 year old.....I had enough that day. I told her if she had any compassion or had any brains she would know that the testing we were having was LIFE ALTERING and that I had a baby in the NICU and I didnt need her crap!! I ended up telling her she WAS NOT touching me or drawing my blood and then breaking down into hysterical tears. We got the blood drawn by a nice man that was there. The lady did get in trouble I don't know what kind but I know she was reported.

A week later I was walking into the NICU to see Makily. She was having her g tube surgery that day. She was 3 weeks old. I was at the "scrub station" and I saw the geneticist walk in. He came up to me and said "Caldwell right?" I nervously said yes and he said "oh well I got your bloodwork back". My heart is pounding now....what is he going to say, surely if it's bad news he wouldnt tell me here in the hall by the scrub station. Just say it.....SAY IT! He said "you are a carrier...if any of your family members are of children bearing age they should be tested too". With that he walked away.
So now I am standing there realizing that all of Makily's problems were genetically inherited and linked to a crappy gene I gave to her. Knowing that if Allen and I have any more baby's that they may be just as sick or sicker than Makily. Even worse they may die soon after birth or be still born. I slowly walked to Makily's crib, I picked her up being careful not to pull any of the tubes and wires attached to her. I sat down in the rocking chair with her, held her tight and cried my eyes out. In between sobs I told her how sorry I was that I did this to her. That I would do everything in my power to make it up to her.....to make her life the absolute best it could be. I was so damn sorry.
There were days upon days that I hated myself. I hated the world, I hated normal people. Happy people made me sick. People with healthy baby's made me angry. Pregnant women made my skin crawl. I would sit on the shower floor crying and screaming at God. Why would he do this to me? What kind of God would play such an awful cruel joke. I had begged him so long for a baby and so he sends me a sick one....then makes it my fault that's she's sick to top it all off. What had I done so wrong? This was the darkest time of my life. I had suicidal thoughts, horrible thoughts that scared me. I wished I could run away and live on the beach by myself. Maybe if I ran far enough away from my problems they would vanish. I imagned myself driving the car off of a bridge. Life no longer made ANY sense to me and I didnt sign up for this. I now had a handicapped child AND could not have any more children. Well I guess I could but taking that chance make me sick. I just couldnt be faced with the decisions that I would be faced with or deal with that. I remember I couldnt even watch TV without being sickened by the meanless shows and stupidity. None of it mattered or made sense to me anymore.

They say that time heals all wounds. I tend to agree, but some wounds leave bigger and deeper scars then others. My balanced 11,22 translocation is my "big scar". I will never truly be over the fact that I have this "weird thing" that most doctors don't understand. My heart will ALWAYS long to carry another baby in my tummy feeling it kick and grow, knowing that my body formed that child and protected it from all harm. I will never be able to get pregnant naturally without being a total basketcase fearing that my baby may have to go through all of the things Makily has gone through....or that it may die.....or worse that I may be faced with the decision of if that baby would be better off in heaven than here with me. I pray that one day God WILL allow me to have another child. A brother or a sister for Makily that will adore her and that Allen and I can love as we love Makily. That is my dream, we will see what the future holds.


Only God knows.