Inside all of us is Hope.

We were in shock and amazement after the great miracle discovery that Max's DNA was "normal" and indicated that he would be compatible with life. Even our doctors were stunned by this news. With this information we were one step closer to being more sure of his viability. The last of the big concerns, was his heart. It's slight tilt raised a lot of red flags. So, we were sent down to Primary's for a Fetal Echocardiogram (an ultrasound targeted on the heart and its function). Our doctors had warned us that they had no idea what this misposition of his heart would mean. He might need heart surgery before any others after birth, or his heart may not even be able to survive. By the night before our Fetal Echo I was a disaster of emotions. I was sure we'd gotten too excited about the news of his DNA and we were just going to find out that his heart would be the end to it all and we would still lose him.

The tech came in, introduced herself and explained that as long as the baby cooperated the Fetal Echocardiogram should take about 30 minutes... Tyler and I exchanged a look, knowing how Max does NOT cooperate. Again, Max's position (head to cervix and facing my spine) made it extra difficult to get all the pictures and recordings they needed.  The ultrasound was almost an hour and a half long. Yeah, when you're pregnant, laying on your back for longer than 5 minutes feels like suffocating torture. So, that was great! Not. Anyway, the tech was nice, but very quiet. I'm sure she was just trying to focus and, since she is not the cardiologist, unable to really give us any information while she performed the test. But her silence gave me time to create a million ways this was all going to go badly. I would try to ask her questions, but her answers were always vague and short. I felt like I was drowning. 

When she finished and left us to go get the cardiologist, I lost it. I started unraveling, telling Tyler I knew something must be terribly wrong. He did his best to calm me, but I was a lost cause by this point. 

The cardiologist came in and started the ultrasound again, looking at a couple more things. Now I was sure we were doomed... But he smiled, turned the lights on and said, "So, after seeing your history here with this little guy, I'm happy to be one to give you good news. His heart structure looks fine and is functioning properly." My mouth dropped open. His heart is fine? The cardiologoist went on to explain that the wall of the left ventricle is thicker than normal, which could indicate a metabolic syndrome, but that they'll just have to look again after he is born. Overall, the doctor couldn't see any negative effects from the heart's tilt. 

Based on that, we can officially move forward with Hope that Max will be with us for much longer than we ever imagined! The two greatest concerns that should've dashed our dreams of ever bringing him home have been completely neutralized. MIRACLES HAPPEN!

We can now have more Hope than ever! Hope that we'll bring this sweet boy home with us some day. Hope that he will grow up and be with us for years to come.

Of course, there is still Fear. Fear of the unknown to come. We don't know how long he'll be in the NICU at Primary's. We've already been warned that he'll need  a minimum of at least 5 surgeries within his first year. The unknown is scary, and as humans, we are prone to Fear it.

But the unknown can also be an Adventure... Life with Max will be our greatest Adventure, yet. Just as it has so far, it will continue to have highs and lows, miracles and trials, achievement and defeat. But we would take this Adventure any day over never getting Max at all.

Inside all of us is HOPE.
Inside all of us is FEAR.
Inside all of us is ADVENTURE.

This quote doesn't come from Maurice Sendak, but it does come from the theatrical version of Where the Wild Things Are, and I love it. It speaks so much truth. We hope and we fear, and we head out into adventures that fill us with both! Remember, that it is okay to be afraid sometimes, as long as you don't let it cloud your Hope. Always hold on to HOPE.