Beginnings

When I decided to begin a blog about my daughter and the world around her, the biggest debate in my mind was whether or not to give a history of how she became our miracle or begin where we are now.  Truth be told, there is no way one could understand how special my little ladybug is without going back and sharing our entire journey.

I had recently moved back from Turkey and was very happy to plant some roots and start a family with the man I love.  It was such an exciting time, but was soon overshadowed with some heartache.  My first pregnancy was welcomed with open arms. We were both thrilled and ready for the new adventure.  After traveling back to Istanbul to oversee the shipment of all my belongings back to Canada I met up with my hubby in Ireland to see where he grew up and meet his family.  The excitement of everything was short-lived when I miscarried a few weeks after.  It was very difficult to deal with and unfortunately wouldn’t be the first.  I miscarried again at 12 weeks later on that year.

At that point I grew worried that we couldn’t have kids and even explored adoption. However just when I was at my lowest those two pink lines appeared yet again.  Feeling that the third time would be the charm I cut out everything that could potentially be harmful – including chocolate and Starbucks Soy Chai Lattes. (My favourite)

Around my 12th week I was overly tired and just wasn’t feeling the greatest.  With my history I proceeded to the ER for an ultrasound.  I was immediately relieved when I saw this tiny little arm wave back and forth.  I could relax – everything appeared the way it should to me.  The doctor came back into the room and closed the door behind her.  She then took a deep breath and proceed to tell us that the baby had a high Nuchal Fold (thickness of neck that is indicative of a chromosome, genetic or cardiac anomaly) and probably wouldn’t survive the next few days.  I remember staring at the doctor repeating over and over that I saw the baby moving – I know it is okay.  However, she was adamant it had a chromosomal defect and wouldn’t survive.

I could do nothing but cry, waiting out every day for the “impending” loss of yet another child.

The next morning I crawled out of bed, pushed all the tear soaked tissues to the floor and dragged my ass to the living room with the hopes that something on TV would take my mind away to a different place.  BUT…..it was early Sunday morning –  not even Coronation Street was on.  As I was flipping through the channels I put the remote down and decided to surf the web.  While I was waiting for the dial-up connection my attention was brought to the TV.  I had randomly stopped on The Hour of Power – a weekly church service based somewhere in California. That is when I first saw my inspiration.  (At the moment I don’t have permission to use her name so for now she will be known as “my inspiration”  because she was and is just that.)  She was speaking of how there were chromosomal defects with a baby that she had miscarried, and at the time they were given the option of terminating the pregnancy.  What she said after that filled my heart with such warmth and peace, I will never forget it.  ” If God wanted to do a miracle to raise this baby up, we would take it, and if God wanted to take this baby home to heaven, than that would be okay.”  A.P. My inspiration.   For those of you who know me I’m not a religious person, but am very spiritual.

I was referred to the prenatal diagnosis clinic at a local hospital where I had CVS test to see if there were any chromosomal abnormalities in our baby.  Every week that passed gave a little more hope but I wouldn’t allow myself to feel it.  We even found out early that the tiny little life inside me was a girl. There was something different about this baby girl but it was a mystery as to what.  Every visit to the clinic was the same as before:  The tests done the previous visit have all come back negative/normal, but…. perhaps it could be this other devastating problem/syndrome.  I was also repeatedly told that we could always terminate the pregnancy, even though the previous appointments my hubby and I had been clear it wasn’t what we wanted.

I was around 20 weeks when I was sent to Sick Kids Hospital in Toronto for an Echocardiogram and MRI to look at the baby’s heart.  After the MRI the doctor called me in to show me the images and said that there was a small anomaly but most people have it and my baby’s heart was structurally perfect.  He told me to take a deep breath, exhale and enjoy the rest of my pregnancy.

At this point the only thing the doctors could say for sure was that my baby girl had short femurs.  Which wasn’t a huge surprise as all the women on my hubby’s maternal side were rather petite.

For the first time since I saw those two pink lines I was able to truly be excited for the pregnancy.  After our trip to see family in Nova Scotia we decided to share the fantastic news with everyone.

Aside from the water retention, and the inability to tie my own shoes the last trimester went great.

My water broke 2 days before my due date (Dec 3/09).  I dilated to 9cm then our little ladybug decided she needed to have a grand entrance.

I had a C-Section on December 3, 2009 and our little princess was born @ 03:56, weighing 6 lbs 10 oz.  (Coincidentally the same day as her Auntie Sarah’s birthday)