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Last week I heard that there's a new first-trimester screening test that can reliably tell expectant mothers whether their babies will be born with Down's syndrome.
A National Institute of Child Health and Human Development-financed study of more than 38,000 U.S. women found that the screening method, which combines a blood test with an ultrasound exam, can identify the genetic abnormality 11 weeks after conception.
While news of the test is likely to set off more salvos in the never-ending debate over abortion, the news is significant for the thousands of women whose advancing age or family history makes them at higher risk for having a Down's syndrome baby. The news also had personal resonance for my wife and me.
I couldn't read the news reports without being transported back to the fall of 1996, when I heard the pain in my wife's voice as she called me to share the news: Our baby had Down's syndrome.
She was in Charlotte, N.C.; I was in Piscataway, N.J.
She had just heard from the doctor. I just wish I had a choice, she lamented.
Several months earlier, she had moved to Charlotte for a new job. I was planning to follow southward as soon as the house was sold. My deadline was the baby's arrival date.
Because she had just started a new job, it took a few months for her health insurance to kick in. By the time she went for her first visits, her belly was huge.
That November she went for a sonogram because she wanted to know the baby's gender. The technician told her that something didn't look right. It seemed the baby had a hole in his heart. It could be Down's syndrome.
At the time, my wife was in her late 30s. Still, there was no family history of birth abnormalities. Her physician ordered further tests.
Soon after the test, the doctor called my wife at work. He wanted her to come to his office so he could tell her in person. He promised to stay as long as it took for her to get there.
Instead, she insisted on hearing the news over the phone. That's how I learned about it too, standing in my empty kitchen in New Jersey.
Down's syndrome is considered to be the most common major chromosomal abnormality and occurs in about 5,000 American-born babies annually. The disorder results when a baby has three, instead of two, copies of the 21st chromosome. Besides their distinctive physical features, such babies are born with developmental and health problems that usually shorten their life spans.
In the months between diagnosis and delivery, my wife would always say her biggest regret was that she had no choice. Not that ending her pregnancy was ever a serious option, but there is something about getting bad medical news and not being able to influence the outcome.
Being an expectant parent is to live daily with anticipation and optimism. But when your wife is carrying a Down's syndrome baby, expectation is tinged with sadness, like an apple pie garnished with lemon. You keep hoping the tests are wrong.
My son was born with a hole in his heart eight years ago. At 6 months, he survived open-heart surgery. He didn't live to see his second birthday.
When my wife was pregnant again, we went to the hospital for a sonogram. As the doctor showed us the vague outlines of the fetus, our untrained eyes couldn't tell whether it was a male or female.
She then pointed to the two dots on the black and white picture, which meant it was a girl. The sonogram looked normal, but since my wife was approaching 40 and we had a history of Down's syndrome, the physician asked whether we wanted further testing to allay our deeply buried fears for our baby girl. Without conferring, both of us said no. We'd wait and find out.
The wait was worth it. My wife gave birth to our healthy daughter.
--Andrew Skerritt can be reached at 813 909-4602 or toll-free at 1-800-333-7505, ext. 4602. His e-mail address is askerritt@sptimes.com