ksmom
Shiny_Rock
- Joined
- Jul 22, 2011
- Messages
- 297
I had suffered an early miscarriage immediately beforehand, and I had posted about it on the early pregnancy loss thread in this same forum.
When I once again saw those two bright pink lines on the pregnancy test, I was bonded to this baby. I was petrified of losing her because of what had happened just a month earlier, and I struggled with feeling excited and hopeful and terrified and pessimistic all at the same time.
The weeks passed slowly and we had several scares along the way- lower than normal fetal heart rate, a couple trips to the ER because I was bleeding and convinced that I was losing the pregnancy- but she continued to grow inside of me. I learned at around 11 weeks that we were having a girl- I vividly remember whooping in response to my OB's news; I had so wanted a little sister for my son and felt incredibly lucky and joyful that we were being gifted with a daughter.
On December 26, my life fell apart. I had my anatomy scan at 18 weeks (a little early because we had hoped to gift ourselves with the news of a healthy baby girl at Christmas time) and we knew immediately that something was wrong. The scan showed a large collection of fluid in the middle of her brain. We were sent to see a perinatologist the next day who confirmed our worst fears- our daughter wasn't healthy. She was missing many structures in her brain, and she had multiple abnormalities in her heart. This wasn't even a 'let's wait and see how this goes' sort of thing- mercifully our question of whether she could be alright were answered with certainty: we could sustain her life, assuming we would consent to open heart surgery before she turned 6 months old and accept the risk that she wouldn't wake from that surgery because of her other problems, but we should also prepare for the likelihood that she wouldn't walk, talk, or see. So many dreams were shattered in that one statement.
At 19 weeks, I had to say goodbye. I underwent an abortion on January 2 of this year. I felt her kicking me on the night before the procedure and I felt such fear for what she might feel- how do 19 week gestation babies register pain? How do they register pain if they are missing big chunks of their brain? I begged my friends and family to pray that she wouldn't feel any pain, if they believed in prayer. I begged them to think good thoughts for her if they didn't.
When I woke from the anesthesia, I felt light. I felt the elation of knowing that she was free of pain or potential suffering. I foolishly expected this lightness to be what remained with me from that point onward.
That same night, my grief crashed over me like a tidal wave. The sense of loss I have experienced has often been unbearable, dragging me away from even my living child at times.
Thank you for letting me share.
When I once again saw those two bright pink lines on the pregnancy test, I was bonded to this baby. I was petrified of losing her because of what had happened just a month earlier, and I struggled with feeling excited and hopeful and terrified and pessimistic all at the same time.
The weeks passed slowly and we had several scares along the way- lower than normal fetal heart rate, a couple trips to the ER because I was bleeding and convinced that I was losing the pregnancy- but she continued to grow inside of me. I learned at around 11 weeks that we were having a girl- I vividly remember whooping in response to my OB's news; I had so wanted a little sister for my son and felt incredibly lucky and joyful that we were being gifted with a daughter.
On December 26, my life fell apart. I had my anatomy scan at 18 weeks (a little early because we had hoped to gift ourselves with the news of a healthy baby girl at Christmas time) and we knew immediately that something was wrong. The scan showed a large collection of fluid in the middle of her brain. We were sent to see a perinatologist the next day who confirmed our worst fears- our daughter wasn't healthy. She was missing many structures in her brain, and she had multiple abnormalities in her heart. This wasn't even a 'let's wait and see how this goes' sort of thing- mercifully our question of whether she could be alright were answered with certainty: we could sustain her life, assuming we would consent to open heart surgery before she turned 6 months old and accept the risk that she wouldn't wake from that surgery because of her other problems, but we should also prepare for the likelihood that she wouldn't walk, talk, or see. So many dreams were shattered in that one statement.
At 19 weeks, I had to say goodbye. I underwent an abortion on January 2 of this year. I felt her kicking me on the night before the procedure and I felt such fear for what she might feel- how do 19 week gestation babies register pain? How do they register pain if they are missing big chunks of their brain? I begged my friends and family to pray that she wouldn't feel any pain, if they believed in prayer. I begged them to think good thoughts for her if they didn't.
When I woke from the anesthesia, I felt light. I felt the elation of knowing that she was free of pain or potential suffering. I foolishly expected this lightness to be what remained with me from that point onward.
That same night, my grief crashed over me like a tidal wave. The sense of loss I have experienced has often been unbearable, dragging me away from even my living child at times.
Thank you for letting me share.