Questions and Memories

I replayed Lucy's birth today in my mind. I do this quite often and as I do I ask myself many questions. Some are old questions I have asked myself many times, but others are new. Did she cry when they took her from me? No, but I heard her make a sound. The doctors took her across the room to look at her before they gave her to me. How long was she away from me? I don't know. The world was still yet my head was spinning. I would otherwise assume that I was holding my breath, but I think I remember asking aloud, "How is she? Is she alright?" over and over again. I remember Kathy, my midwife, inquiring of the doctors in a determined voice to get the answer I sought. I remember Kathy to the right side of my hospital bed, and my husband on the left side. I remember the waiting, and the feeling of my legs, numb - the desperation in knowing they would fail me if I tried to spring from the bed to run over to her. It felt like my heart left my body to be with Lucy.

Then they brought her to me, wrapped up in a blanket and said, "She's doing GREAT." I held her and cried. And laughed and smiled. I examined the cleft in her lip and dreamed of a future for her. I knew it wouldn't be easy but knew that she was special. I was determined to help her have the best life I knew to give her.

Sometimes I'm glad I didn't know at that point she had Trisomy 13 and that she'd only live for less than 6 days. Other times I feel so guilty I didn't know. In those moments of doubt and sadness I want to go back and find out during pregnancy so that I could have been more ready to... wait, ready for what exactly? To know she was going to die? I can't imagine how hard that would have been. It's interesting to me that I still deliberate on if I should have done the amnio to test for Trisomy prenatally. Could it have been better if I had known? The answer is always the same. To know or not know would have been tough. And the outcome is the same. She'd still be gone.

March was Trisomy Awareness month. I saw others write about it and talk about it. I feel like I lost my voice. I don't have the energy to write about it, but that doesn't mean that I don't think about what it means to have a daughter with Trisomy 13. March is always a hard month regardless because it's the month we found out that things with my 2nd pregnancy weren't "right." Three years have gone by and so much has changed for the better, yet I just know I'll always ache to hold my sweet Lucy and kiss her face.

There are so many questions and so many memories. I can't separate myself from all of it because my heart is eternally intertwined to my baby girl's. Yet the memories fade, so I will try and document them the best as I can as they come back.