I've thought a lot today about what I was gong to write about. Most times that I post on this site I also post on Facebook. A good friend of mine reminded me of something that also came up at our mended little hearts meeting and it's also a very touchy subject. I will not use this blog or my Facebook page a platform for a political debate, but I will share my story.
So let's travel back to 2008. At my 20 week appointment my OB saw some concerns with Sophia's ultrasound. They weren't sure if there was an actual problem or not, but that when they were trying to look at her and measure her progress there was a problem with the left side of her heart. A little caveat to the problem though, was that Sophia was lying on her left side and wouldn't turn over to give them an actual look at her heart. See, even at 20 weeks gestation she was stubborn!
I was scheduled to go and see a perinatologist on March 6 to determine what was wrong. I was of course terrified coming in to this appointment and as soon as the doctor cameo into the office and looked at my ultrasound, she started rattling off how she was developing. After several "normals" she finally started saying "abnormal" when they got to her heart. To say I was a complete mess would be an absolute understatement. I was crushed. We of course were asked the question at that appointment if we wanted to continue with my pregnancy. Now as I stated before, I will not use this as a political platform or speak for anyone else or tell anyone what they should do. Again, this is MY story. I choose no. I choose to be the mother to this baby. The only thing that got me through my pregnancy and everything after was that God choose me to be this little girls mother and I was going to do that with all my might.
Having this little girl has changed me. She has made me a better person. I'm sure there are people out there that may not agree with that statement, but i don't care. My daughter has taught me to stand up for what I believe in, to fight for what is right, and to not take crap from anyone else. You develop a REALLY tough skin when you hand your week old daughter to a stranger and allow them or crack open her chest and fix her. You grow. Thick skin when you are boarded onto a Medivaced flight with your child severly sick, you develop a thick skin when you have to speak for a child that can't speak for themselves.
While March 6, 2008 was one of the worst days of my life, looking bad, some great things have come from this day. Namely, my little girl!
