Why I don't play poker.

Not the best MFM appointment today, friends.  I've gotten so used to everything being the same every time we go, and there are *so* many appointments, that I was at the point where I felt like I didn't necessarily need Jonathan to come with me.  (I mean, I'm always happy for him to come, but him leaving work for a couple hours every week doesn't seem necessary unless it's...necessary.)

To cut to the chase, we think some of Bee's liver has made its way into her chest.  There was some discussion as to whether it was the left lobe of the liver or the spleen (not that it matters a lot, I think--they're both solid organs that you don't want mashed up in there), but according to the sonographer, something about the blood flow to this mystery organ made her think it was more likely liver.  I've been happily (sorta) bopping along through this process with many assurances that the liver was still down and hurray, what a good sign that is.  So to find out now that it's up was a very unpleasant shock.  *And* I was by myself to receive this news.

To top it off, who did I get to chat with about all of this?  None other than Dr. Sandwich! (Dr. Sandwich made his first appearance on this blog here.)  To be fair, he was much better this time around.  Like maybe he had already finished his sandwich. Har har.  He came in and asked how I was doing and I told him that I was "discouraged" to find this out about the liver. (In real life, I was way beyond discouraged and just trying really hard to hold it together until I got to the car.)  I think in an attempt to make me feel better, he said that it's possible it's been up all along but we just couldn't see it on ultrasound until now.  Also mentioned something about "the defect is probably larger than we initially thought."  Shockingly, these facts were not comforting to me.  But at least he was trying.  And he may have patted me on the back at some point, I can't remember.

In a brilliant planning move, immediately following this appointment, I had to rush back to work to see a patient. (Many thanks to this patient and his mother for not having anything snarky to say about the fact that I was approximately 26 minutes late seeing them.)  Anyway, this is the part where you get to find out why I don't play poker.  As I was walking in to work, I thought I had gotten myself together pretty well.  No longer on the verge of tears, at least.  The first person I encountered as I got off the elevator was my boss, Dr. K.  I say hello, smile (!), and patted myself on the back for being oh-so-convincing in my "I'm totally okay" demeanor.  (I was about to walk into a patient's room and didn't have time--see above--to get myself all worked up again.)  He gives me a look and says, "You look...pale. Are you okay?"  And that, friends, is why I don't play poker.  I can't hide anything!  I've been told for most of my life that I have an "expressive" face, but you'd think that after 32 years I'd be able to fool people every now and then.  Apparently not.  Anyway, I told him that I couldn't talk about it quite yet, and this is how I know I have the best boss in the world, because he said, "Well, whenever you're ready to talk about it, I'm here to support you however I can."  So of course *that* made me cry, but in a good way this time.

As usual, we got a few pictures of sweet baby Bee.  Her little cheeks are getting chubbier, which is super cute.  Jonathan and I have been saying the whole time that she looks nothing like Henry, but I think we got proven wrong today with this one particular picture.  So, here's Bee at not quite 33 weeks:

And here's Henry when he was about a week old. (He was the world's prettiest newborn, by the way.)  I'm not sure if it's apparent to anybody but Jonathan and me, but to us, these two are looking very very much alike.  And not to be a downer--again--but the fact that she's starting to look so much like her brother somehow makes today's news seem even worse.

So there's today's update.  Please please pray that Bee's liver will *go back down*.  I've been reminded today about how they say you really don't know how a CDH baby will do until she's born.  Until now, that's been a way to temper my optimism.  As in, she has all these factors going for her, but even so, she might not do great at birth. *Now* I feel like I'm coming at it from the opposite angle.  Just because her liver is up at the moment, she could still do awesome.  Please pray that this is the case.  And please pray for my attitude as this journey continues.  I'm a control freak and it's really bugging me that I have absolutely no control over what's going on with my baby girl.  I know intellectually that God loves her even more than I do, but I think I'm having a hard time really *believing* it.

Next appointment with MFM is in a week.  Stay tuned.