Choosing Life

I realized recently that I never really blogged all the details regarding my pregnancy with Abigail, and her birth. I share about it often in conversations, but I know many of my sweet readers where praying for us and with us during my pregnancy and I hope our story can help someone else make the best decision for their baby.

On the night before Thanksgiving 2007, we received a phone call from my OB. We had gone in for my 20 week ultrasound a few days before to find out we were having a girl. He was calling to tell me they had found problems with our baby on that ultrasound. He told me she had cysts in her brain and Downs Syndrome. But to have a great weekend and to call on Monday  to make an appointment to come in for follow up.

Thanks Doctor. You couldn't have waited until Monday to tell me, since there was nothing we could do until then anyhow? I had a house full of people coming the next day to celebrate, and was extra sensitive to the date, because we had miscarried our first baby on Thanksgiving years before.

A week or so later we had an appointment in Seattle with a genetic counselor and for more ultrasounds. At this appointment they told us they thought she also had Trisomy 18 {which meant baby was unlikely to live for more than a few weeks}. We were told we should have chosen to do the screenings in the beginning of my pregnancy so we wouldn't be in  this situation now, and asked if, at 23 weeks we would like to end the pregnancy.

My baby had a name. I had held her in my body and my heart for 6 months. I had prayed for her for years before she was conceived.  And they thought nothing of killing her. I said no, ending my pregnancy was not an option.

I didn't do the screenings in the beginning for the same reason I chose not to end the pregnancy at that point. If the Lord chose to bless me with a baby with special needs, I trusted His judgement and would receive that child with open arms. The possibility of problems did not give me the right to end life that He had created.

At this point, instead of falling apart, I had peace that certainly was not natural for me. I knew without a doubt that  this child was growing inside me for a reason, and trouble or not the Lord had a plan for her life. But I didn't really believe there was anything wrong with her (and I am a worrier by nature, so it was so strange, but the Lord filled me with His peace throughout the entire thing).


All this to say, those doctors were wrong. My child was born absolutely healthy. She was born and is now a healthy, perfectly formed 4 and a half year old.

My heart breaks over how many other babies are killed every day because a doctor, or some doctors made a mistake. I've since met many others who have been in the same situation, and gone on to have healthy, happy children. No child is a mistake.