Like most blogs about people overcoming medical problems, I tend to focus on everything going wrong, but today I am intent on celebrating everything that has gone right. Today, Lochlan is a year old, and he is ALIVE. As I look back on his life, I am filled with gratitude that he is here with us today. This past few weeks, I have been following families who have lost life. As I pray for these families, I hold my boys and husband close because we are all still together and that is all that matters.
Lochlan's story of survival began at his gender ultrasound. My OB office immediately referred us to a perinatologist. The perinatologist quickly listed the problems seen on the ultrasound and suggested that we schedule a amniocentesis ASAP because if we wanted to terminate the pregnancy, we would have no time to waste. Before having children, Adam and I had already discussed that we would love any child that we were given, so that was not an option. The perinatologist had also mentioned that because Lochlan only had one artery in his umbilical cord, it would increase his chances of IUGR and miscarriage. We were also told that because of his renal anomalies, there would be a chance that he would run out of amniotic fluid. Despite conditions that began before Lochlan even had an umbilical cord, he thrived through the pregnancy.
Because Lochlan had a single umbilical artery, my obstetrician was uncomfortable with letting me go past my due date. In my true form, my initial feeling was to be obstinate and go against his directions. However, at the last visit, I spoke with his wife who is a kind nurse, and decided that I better trust their expertise. I was induced and once the contractions began to get strong, Lochlan's heart became distressed. The pain of the pitocin was so great that at one point the only thing that relieved the pain was marching in place. I am so grateful that the pitocin quickly moved Lochlan out. The umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck, but after being quickly removed, he began to scream. I remember being so relieved that he had survived birth.
I was falsely celebrating the end of a nightmare that evening, but it all came to an end when I had realized that he had no anus. Yes, I will never forget the way that the transferring NICU nurse had poked and prodded at Lochlan like he was a cadavor, but that was the first moment that I learned to pipe up for my boy. It made me and everyone in the room uncomfortable for me to tell her to end her assessment, but in the end Lochlan benefited because he was rushed to AMC for treatment. Since then, I always run the risk of being disliked, but it is the least I can do for him.
Lochlan has endured so much pain and suffering. Every time he is put under, I worry that he will not wake up. Then when the procedure is done, and he is screaming in pain for hours on end, I worry that he will never smile again or that he will be forever scarred. During every procedure, I feel guilty for putting him through torture, but when his smile returns, I am reassured that I am doing what is best for him. Lochlan has a long way to go, but I never thought that he would overcome everything he has in the past year. I can only hope that he will be a stronger individual because of it all.
A few weeks ago, I met a man who told me about his daughter who has some similar medical problems as Lochlan. I could tell that he was a Dad like Adam- kind, warm, and optimistic. He told me that his daughter's spirit is insurmountable. The light in this Dad's eyes was not what you would expect from a man with a sick child. She still struggles with health problems, but she is a happy young lady working to help others. As he spoke of her, I began to cry, not because I was sad for her, but because I want to speak of Lochlan the same way someday.
As we surrounded Lochlan and sang him Happy Birthday tonight, I was struck by how happy I was to be sitting there with him. This year has robbed us of so much joy, but I felt nothing but joy today because my little warrior made to his first birthday.
