There has been quite a division on social media sites lately centering on a topic that I have in the past not shared my view on. I really to be honest don’t think FB is the place to be plastering pictures, sayings, or rants on said topic. I get on facebook to unwind and honestly hope that someone has posted something funny about the joys of raising children, or a new picture of their adventures, or best when someone makes light of the crappy day they are having!

Well, I can’t really stay silent on this topic anymore, it has been brewing in my heart for over 25 months now when I had to take a stand personally. I guess you can say I am at a place that I can finally put into words what my heart and mouth was unable to do so when the situation was put out in the open with little or no regard, as if what was being stated wasn’t a HUGE decision to make.

I can’t forget the day, the room, the weather, or emotions that still feel like they were felt for the first time even though it was over 2 yrs ago…

I had gone in for a routine prenatal check-up with baby #3. The appointment was the first time I got to hear the heart beat. I don’t care if its your first or your 6th baby, nothing can replace the moment you hear that sound for the first time each pregnancy. Even though it was a sound that put my ever anxious heart to rest, it wasn’t able to stop the looming question surrounding this pregnancy. Each day, quite frankly almost each minute during the first few months of my pregnancy my mind was my own worst enemy. We had closed the door to more children, grieving, but made the decision because the thought of another sick baby scared us.

SO when we were faced with the reality God had a different plan for us, I found myself hiding, going into seclusion, and throwing myself a pity party. Even though we had some support who were over the moon for us it wasn’t enough to discount the negative responses and reactions people felt the need to share.

After my provider cleaned my belly off and put down the doppler, she had me sit up and get ready for the next part of the appointment. If you have had children you know this part is when they ask about any nagging symptoms or concerns. It can be a quick part or it can take a long time based on what your hormonal pregnancy mind is obsessing over.

It was just a normal appointment for me, didn’t really have any concerns, well not any I wanted to share with her. I already had my ENTIRE support group praying for me and this little life God had entrusted to us. Praying for health and for JOY, something that was robbed by every single fear the enemy knew to put in my head. I had started feeling baby#3 at 11 wks. Just little flutters, but after being pregnant two times prior, I was without a doubt sure it was baby moving and not gas 🙂

Just when I thought we were done, she then informed me that instead of getting my 19 wk ultrasound here in Ketchikan, that I was going to be sent to Swedish Medical Center in WA. Not only did my provider need a higher def machine to look over baby #3’s bowels, (to ensure no intestinal block was forming, like Ezzy’s) but I was also informed that I needed to get an amnio to find out if this baby had CF or not…what came out of her mouth next, literally makes my blood boil thinking of it now…

My provider informed me that it would take 3-4 weeks to get the result of the amnio but, “to not worry, that an exception will be made if you choose to terminate the pregnancy, even though you will be past 20 wks gestation”

It was one of those out of body experiences that you see on movies where the actor sees something happen that doesn’t really take place. Its like time went into slow motion and I could see myself leaping off the exam table in my hospital issued gown attacking her, hands around her neck, with a crazed look in my eyes, like ANY momma bear would do to a threat to her cub.

I know that my verbal response was cold, that she most likely felt the frost as the few words I was able to form flew over my snarling teeth, “um NO, we are having this baby NO MATTER WHAT this test tells us”

I came home to my husband tears in my eyes, unsure if they were tears of sorrow, anger, or hurt.

I couldn’t wrap my brain around what was dropped on me just a few minutes prior. If you were to ask me to sum up the first 1/2 of my pregnancy with baby #3, I would have said FEAR, but that never once made me wish away the little tiny life that I was watching grow before my eyes.

Baby #3 was already started to establish a wake and sleep routine. One that never failed to mess with my sleep and required frequent trips to the bathroom late at night. I loved waking in the morning because the position I was laying in for a few hours was apparently getting old for said baby. Most of all I can honestly say the only time there was ever a smile on my face the first 1/2 was when I would get a sudden kick or feel a rush a movements from the never ending need to practice stretching arms and legs while taking up the limited space my unusually small torso gave.

After seeing baby #3 on the high def ultrasound at Swedish the tears of fear and worry came spilling out, the last 15 wks of carrying a burden I was not intended to carry came flowing out of me like a boat that sprung a leak. Sweet baby Ezzy was sleeping away in the ergo on daddy’s chest and the radiology tech spent over 1.5 hrs looking at every single piece God was carefully nitting together in my womb. When we received the news that baby’s bowels looked great and that everything was normal, we left pieces of the burden we were carrying in the back room of the radiology dept.

We began to soon worry about the needle that was going to be placed in my body. Not to say we hadn’t worried for the last 3 wks leading up to the decision we were being forced to make to even get one. Sweet baby Kyre (who we didn’t know at the time was a girl) had decided to put on a show for the radiology tech during her anatomy check. She was twisting, stretching, rolling, and doing anything she could to not lay still. Pure terror was written all over our faces as we walked into the room where the massive (I am NOT joking) needle was waiting to tell us the future of the life God was insistent to give us.

Shortly after the doc put the ultrasound wand up to my belly we saw little tiny Kyre had rolled over on her side and was taking a snooze. We could see her shoulders and body move up and down with each breath she took. As I am trying to describe this picture to you, I am fighting tears while writing it out. Because I saw this little baby exemplify life in every way during her scan to then watch her minutes later curl up and take a deep nap to ensure she wouldn’t be harmed while a foreign object invaded her safe home. It was yet another way God was telling us to trust Him, to trust the plan, even down to the forced amnio taking place, that He was in every detail and to Him be the glory if we would just lay our burdens at His feet.

So you might have figured out why I am feeling the need to walk down memory lane. Monday it was ruled that the serial killer, Doctor Kermit Gosnell, has been found guilty of murder of babies, many around the age of Kyre when we got the ultrasound and amnio done. Some of you reading this might believe he was convicted of crimes he didn’t commit. Some of you might not have any stance on Pro-life or Pro-choice because you haven’t been personally faced with it. Some of you might stop reading my blogs because of what I am going to say…

All I know is that when I was told and “exception” would be made for me, “to not worry”, that “IT would be taken care of” that I got to realize my own heart. My desire to speak up for the ones who don’t have a voice yet. My heart aches for the little lives that were thrown away and taken by countless hands all over the world and discarded into the trash out back.

I think back to watching Kyre living her short stint as an acrobat in my womb at just 19 wks and can recall all the times I felt her sweet little feet push against my stomach, making me stop and have something to smile about even if I was terrified she was going to be sick like her sister.

Our CF director told us that CF is going to become an “old person’s disease” here down the road. Due the big push in prenatal testing, along with the unfathomable amount of lives not given a chance because the soon-to-be parents don’t want an imperfect child. That we will stop seeing more CFers being born because of a woman’s right to choose.

I will tell you this, that saying Yes to Kyre, saying Yes to GOD, saying YES to the unknown has been the best decision we have made. I can’t imagine life without this little ball of energy who showed off her personality to us at 19 wks and who couldn’t help showing off her acrobatic skills even after birth.

So my hope is that if you or someone you know is considering the decision that is legally every woman’s right, that you share mine and Kyre’s story. That you tell them it isn’t a choice between Pro-life of Pro-choice, but its a decision to just say YES. Yes to the little life that is growing and waiting to change every single thing you thought you knew.