A privet look into our life
I wish this was a crafting post. I wish it was filled with party plans and detailed. I wish it had pictures of a 9 year old girl giggling with her friends and her brothers and sister. I wish I was given the chance to share her with you. I was 18 when I peed on that stick my third week into my first semester at collage. I was 18 when I got to tell me boyfriends ready or not we were going to be parents. It was scary and thrilling and we were surprisingly ok with it. Our parents not so much but by 4 months they were showering us with baby trinkets and happy grandma pictures. I didnt smoke, I didnt drink, I didnt do drugs. I was healthy I was a runner. I was a great student. So when the blood work came back that something wasnt adding up the doctor didnt even bat an eye telling us. She said it was more common then not and there was nothing .... not a thing to worry about. In fact it was reading more like there was a twin she didnt see. They were in no hurry for us to go in for the ultra sound. So we waited till after the holiday to go in. We waited untill January 18th to go in. My step mom drove me up to Emanuele, mike was going to come up after he got off work. We chatted and drank coffee. They called us back into a really really small room and I hopped up onto the table. The nurse chatted at me about school and how I was liking it and we chatted for about 10 minutes. Then she stopped talking. Not a word. I was begging her to tell me whet was wrong. All she could say was we would have to wait for the doctor to get in. I laided back on that table eyes shut praying harder then I knew was possible for 55 minutes while she took pictures and measurements. 55 Minutes untill the doctor walked in and they stepped aside whispering. The tears poured down my face. I knew it was bad. Really bad. The doctor sat down and looked at everyrhing.
She turned on the part where you can hear the heart beat. I heard the heart beat. I still hear the heart beat. She asked me to look at the screen and that is where she showed me the hole in our babies heart and how it was pumping the wrong way. I couldnt breath. She suggested we do an amnio to know for sure what we were dealing with. It was the longest needle I had ever seen. And it hurt. They walked me to an office and then mike got there. Exspecting good news... because every single person said we had nothing to worry about. He knew as soon as he saw me. They said a lot of things while we were there. My brain didnt hear most of it. My baby had a hole in her heart that would require open heart surgery minutes after she was born, that is assuming she even made it that far. The ultra sound pictures showed a tiny hand and two feet. One Two Three Four Five Six. I have counted those toes a million time since that day. The 6 toes meants our baby had Trisomy 13. A death sentence for any child diagnosed with it because they dont live long. But there was more. The spinal cord wasnt forming right either and there was an issue with the placenta. The concern went from the baby to me when they realized if I went into labor at home I would be in big trouble. They asked if we had questions. I dont remember saying anything. I was so numb. I was so lost and I was praying so hard. It was like the weight of the world was sitting on my chest. We couldnt do anything untill we got the test back. We went home. We cried... a lot. We stopped talking to each other or anyone. I couldnt talk or breath or.... When they called us back we went in to decide what we were going to do. They gave me the options and the probabilities. The chance that this baby wouldnt make it to term were almost guaranteed. The immediate heart surgery would be fallowed by years of repeat surgies if we got past the first one... again not promising the baby would be strong enough for the first one. Spinal surgery would be next if the baby made it. Children with Trisomy 13 dont live very long, and that is with no other complication. The doctor had never seen this bad of a situation, in 25 years in the department. The likly hood she would live more then a few minutes if that was about all the hope they gave us. I was 19. I was forced to make a dission I would have to live with the rest of my life. I was scared and mad and so so so sad. I do not regret the choice I made. I spent 28 hours on a potocin induced pregnancy. I pushed for 10 minutes. I watched them carry that tiny baby from my room. I did the only motherly option I had, I took any pain my child would have had away by scraficing my own heart. We didnt know at the time that it was a baby girl we didnt want to know. but as I lay there for the first time in a room not full of people I asked the nurse if it was a boy or girl. Lucy Faith was silently born February 4th at 6 month 22days. All I have to remember her is box in our bedroom closet with a picture of her tiny feet in and a dress she was dressed in and a certificate with her tiny foot prints. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. and a giant missing piece from my heart.