Four weeks ago today we lost our daughter; she was only 2 hours old. Our journey with her has been incredible; she filled me with love. More than anything, I do not want her to be forgotten and that is why I want to create this blog. These past four weeks have been some of the toughest weeks in my life. We found out in February that our baby was not going to be able to live outside my womb; it was the day before Ash Wednesday. Lent took on a whole new meaning for me this year. I felt as if I really understood what it meant when Jesus carried the cross, when Jesus suffered, and when Jesus said the words “Your will be done”.
I carried our little girl for 9 months in my womb. I said “Yes” when the Lord asked me to give this baby life. I knew for the last four months of my pregnancy that this was the only time I had with my baby; I treasured every moment I had. We went in for our 20 week ultrasound on February 12, 2013; we were expecting this to be an exciting day. In a matter of minutes, everything changed. Up until this point we had no indication that anything was wrong. When they did the ultrasound, they found out that our baby had no functioning kidneys and I had no amniotic fluid. Our baby had something called Potters Syndrome. I couldn’t hear much else after the doctor said “I’m sorry your baby has zero chance for survival outside of the womb”.
We were lucky because we had a Catholic doctor. We had someone who respected life and would not question our decision to carry this baby to full term. I was grateful to have the doctor that we had, but how was I supposed to get in the car and drive after news like this? How was I supposed to wake up the next day and live? How do I go on now? Where were those answers? There were no instructions, just heart stopping news and goodbye, I’ll see you at your next appointment. I had to put one foot in front of the other and walk out of there. When I walked to the checkout desk, I saw other Moms standing behind me, pregnant with their babies. I remember thinking about the difference between our babies in the womb. Right then all I could think was “I love you, my little peanut”. “I love this baby no matter what”, that’s it. I put my hand on my belly and just grieved my loss and loved our sweet baby at the same time. This is an emotion so hard to explain, yet so normal at the time. I was crying uncontrollably and I had to stand there and pay my co-pay. It seemed so cruel to have to pay for news like this. I wanted a way to fix my baby; couldn’t there possibly be a way to give my baby some healthy kidneys? I just didn’t understand all of this, how could this be?
Those were my emotions just five short months ago and now here I am one month after our little peanut was born. I wish I was holding her right now while I am typing this. Instead she’s in eternity with our Lord, Jesus Christ. He gave me a saint to carry in my womb and I had to let her go. Everything is in his hands, not mine. I am one month postpartum, one month out from meeting and saying goodbye to my daughter all in the same day. It still hurts like crazy; this pain is worse than anything I’ve ever experienced. I miss her so much. I can’t stop thinking about her. Sometimes I think about her soul being there, watching me throughout my day. Other times I think about if she was here, in my arms. No matter what, I miss her and barely a minute goes by without me saying her name in my head. Her name was Frances Gianna.