Our Beginning: The Day My World Changed
Hello. Starting today, I would like to begin documenting the journey of my daughter’s medical treatment, bit by bit. The first story I want to share is about the day it all began—our “Day Zero.”
A Pregnancy I Thought Was Perfect
Until I entered the third trimester, every prenatal checkup ended with the same reassuring words: “Everything looks great.” On weekends, my husband and I would go look at baby gear and brainstorm names. Gently stroking my growing belly, I imagined nothing but a happy future welcoming our new family member.
However, at one routine checkup, that peaceful reality shifted instantly.
Polyhydramnios and the “Two Bubbles”
“There is a little too much amniotic fluid,” the doctor said suddenly during my 28-week checkup. As the doctor stared intently at the ultrasound monitor, he said a phrase I had never heard before: “Double Bubble Sign.”
It refers to the appearance of two bubbles on the scan, caused by amniotic fluid accumulating in the stomach and the duodenum. It meant there was a suspicion of Congenital Duodenal Atresia.
The doctor spoke cautiously: “I will write a referral to a larger hospital. We need to do a detailed examination.”
Desperate to Believe Otherwise
Even then, my heart rejected the reality. “Maybe it just looked like that by chance.” “Nothing was wrong until now; surely it will be gone by the next scan.”
I kept telling myself these things. Even on the way to the specialist hospital, I clung to the hope that someone would tell me, “It was a mistake.” I simply couldn’t accept that my long-awaited child might have an illness. Perhaps it was my way of resisting—a desperate attempt to protect myself from overwhelming despair.
Sleepless Nights and Endless Searching
From that day on, I spent my days and nights constantly searching on my phone. “Polyhydramnios,” “Double Bubble Sign,” “Duodenal Atresia,” “Ultrasound misdiagnosis”…
In the dark of the night, I stared at the glowing screen for hours. I read stories where people said, “I was told I had polyhydramnios, but I gave birth to a perfectly healthy baby,” and I tried so hard to convince myself that I would be one of those cases. But the more I searched, the more I encountered difficult medical terms and anxiety-inducing information. I felt like I was being swallowed by a bottomless pit of fear, wondering, “What is going to happen to my baby?”
The Power of Life in a Kick
The one who saved me from my broken state was none other than my daughter inside me. While I was drowning in internal conflict—thinking “I want to run away,” “Tell me this is a lie,” or “I want to go back to before I was pregnant”—she was as energetic as ever, kicking my belly with all her might.
In that moment, I realized something. “She is in here, doing her absolute best to live.” “She wants to live.”
I felt like I had received a direct message from her. I wiped my tears and told myself, “I can’t stay discouraged like this. I have to be strong for her.”
A Mother’s Resolve
The diagnosis didn’t change. The anxiety didn’t vanish. But the movements I felt that day gave me the courage not to run away.
“No matter what happens, I will always be on her side.” Our true story began the day I made that vow.
I hope this blog can be a small light for someone out there who is currently lost in the darkness, searching for answers on their phone.
Next time: As the suspicion turned into a confirmed diagnosis, my mother rushed from our hometown to be with me. I will also share a strange event that happened during the amniocentesis, where I felt my daughter protected me.
