Sorry I don't. So, you'll just have to use your imagination instead. But whatever cuteness and smartness and chubbiness and amazingness you imagine, times it by 100. Or 1,000. Then you would be imagining Maggie.
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Just when I thought I was getting myself together, getting to the next step of the journey, yesterday happened. Son of a gun. The day quickly went plummeting into the crapper.
I got an update on Maggie's autopsy stuff. I thought we were pretty much done with everything- the only thing we were waiting on was the genetic tests (those usually take awhile--especially for us, Dave says, because it takes a long time to test awesomeness).
Anyways, I got a call from Dr. Eck's office yesterday. Dr. Eck is out of town until next week but she had ordered a test called a microarray to be performed- basically they were going to send away some tissues to get them tested for other things. However, when the nurse called my insurance company (pretty sure they hate me right now) they said that the test was not covered by insurance (I guess they consider it "extra"- it's not completely necessary to find out why your child died. Whatevs, jerks.) So, if we wanted this microarray done, we would need to pay $1,400.
And, to add to the fun, she needed to know if we wanted it done by the following morning. I thought we were done with this madness. I was not mentally prepared to have to make another decision about all of this. Plus, to be brutally honest, I'm not a fan of talking about having my daughter's tissues tested.
Now, I know the standard rule for being a parent is "you should do anything to help your child" (p.s. I'm also quite aware not every parent has gotten this memo- that's another blog topic altogether). I was having a dilemma- and I even asked the nurse this- are we bad parents, do we not love our daughter enough if we don't do the microarray because it costs too much? I know, logically, it sounds dumb.
The other dilemma is--what if this was the test that would show what happened to her? That would give us some answers about why she died? The nurse said that the pathologist had called her directly (which is rare) and said that she would be surprised if this microarray would give us any answers.
The nurse and I continued to talk about the different tests that we had had done; that I was still waiting on the genetic testing and the only thing that we think could have caused this was the placenta. She looked through my file and said that the placenta had come back normal-- every test had, so far, come back normal.
So, now I'm really confused.
And torn.
And I'm not sure if I should be elated or devastated.
Should I be happy because my little girl was perfect and healthy? Should I be glad to know that there was nothing wrong with her and pray that, if there is a next time around, the next one will be just as perfect and healthy?
Or, should I be completely devastated that I will never know why my little girl was taken from us too early? Should I worry that I now have no idea what to watch out for the next time around and this could, potentially, happen again with no warning signs?
By the way, Dave and I decided at 2 am not to do the microarray (see "Fifth Reason My Day Plummeted Into the Crapper").
Second Reason My Day Plummeted Into the Crapper
I spilled Coke all over my keyboard.
I know, it's totally insignificant compared to Maggie's autopsy stuff, but you know what it's like when one thing happens and then it seems to snowball? And it all gets overwhelming? Yeah, that's what happened.
Plus, I was ticked for several reasons: One: I shouldn't be drinking soda. Two: I shouldn't be drinking soda at my computer at work.
Because of aforementioned Coke-spillage, I had to ask for a new keyboard. And, because of our sweet, sweet government and our sweet, sweet budgets in public schools, I'm pretty sure I just used up the district's entire technology budget for my new keyboard. Sorry coworkers.
Fourth Reason My Day Plummeted Into the Crapper
I was at work until 8:00. P.M. That's like, almost my bedtime. I got to present at a board meeting. It was thrilling. I drove all the way home to Hutch afterward so I could spend time with Dave instead of staying at my parents' house. Therefore, see "Fifth Reason My Day Plummeted Into the Crapper."
Dave worked until 2 am. Stupid cattle and stupid sale barn. So, I drove all the way home to go to eat alone and go to bed alone. Then, we got to decide about our daughter's autopsy at 2 am.
There's a sentence I never thought I would say.
And hope to never say again.
And pray no one else ever has to say.
But really, we can only go up from here folks.
Rachel,
ReplyDeleteI cannot even begin to express how sorry I am for you. Beyond all the horror you have been going through, you still have the remarkable ability to put it all out there in words. And then you somehow come up with a way to explain the pain and irony with such wit that I even have to smile a bit in the midst of tears. I'm thinking about you and Dave every day. Hold onto each other, hold tight.
Love to you both, Jan Sacco
My dear Ray & Dave,
ReplyDeleteThrough your pain and disappointment, healing will come. When that is, only He knows. Always know that you are in my thoughts and prayers as you walk this journey. Keep your focus ahead of the pain, holding to your faith, courage and relationships...
In your Corner,
Burdette
Wishing you healing and peace. And happier days out of the crapper.
ReplyDelete