My daughter’s name was Lily. She was my second child, and she was stillborn due to a condition known as Trisomy 18, a chromosomal disorder that is often considered incompatible with life. The love I had for her was profound, yet I found myself wishing for an end to my pregnancy.
It was out of love that I sought an abortion, yet I was denied that choice due to the political environment in my state. Holding her tiny, lifeless form in my arms after her birth was a moment that changed everything. I promised myself that I would advocate for change, to spare other families from experiencing such heartbreak.
The Diagnosis
At 16 weeks, a routine blood test indicated that our baby had a 1 in 10 chance of having Trisomy 18. The following day, my doctor arranged for a specialist consultation. An ultrasound revealed a cystic hygroma, a clubbed foot, and significant growth restriction, as she was measuring nearly a week behind schedule. We faced a nerve-wracking wait for an amniocentesis, which we would have to postpone until the amniotic sac fused to the uterine wall. During this time, I delved into researching the disorder and connected with families through the Trisomy 18 Foundation.
As we awaited the results, my husband and I grappled with the unimaginable decision of how to proceed if our worst fears were confirmed. We learned that, should our daughter be born with this condition, doctors would not take any life-saving measures. Our priority was to prevent her from experiencing suffering, but how could we make the choice to end her life? As her mother, my instinct was to protect her. Eventually, we decided to pursue a labor and delivery abortion, referred to by the Trisomy 18 Foundation as “saying goodbye early.” This approach would allow us to hold her, take photographs, and arrange for her remains to be cremated—an opportunity to create lasting memories in a very short time.
The Heartbreaking Reality
When we received the confirmation of the diagnosis, the devastation was overwhelming. I remember little else but my tears and the mantra, “She was so wanted.” I assumed that since abortion is legal in the U.S., we would easily obtain the procedure. Initially, even my doctor believed we could proceed without issue. However, when we met her again, she informed us that due to the political climate in our state, local hospitals would not perform the procedure. We were directed to a clinic in Atlanta that specialized in late-term abortions, which was not what we wanted, but I was desperate to protect my child from pain.
Upon arriving at the clinic, we were informed that we wouldn’t be able to hold her or keep her remains. The gravity of this realization struck hard, yet my commitment to keeping her from suffering remained my guiding principle. We were also informed that I would be part of a one-day procedure, separated from women seeking abortions for other reasons.
As we left for Atlanta, I felt like a fugitive, secretly committing what felt like an immoral act. Only a few people were aware of our journey, as I feared judgment for doing what I believed was right for my daughter. No one should feel ashamed when making critical healthcare decisions for their loved ones.
Facing the Unimaginable
Once at the clinic, we were not separated from other women, and the waiting room filled with those terminating pregnancies for reasons entirely different from mine. It was hard to sit among women carrying healthy babies while my daughter was dying inside me. If the laws in Tennessee had been different, we could have avoided this ordeal altogether. I now understand that those women shared their own struggles, and their reasons were just as valid.
After nearly four hours of waiting, we learned that due to a paperwork error, we could not proceed that day. An ultrasound revealed our daughter had very little brain matter, and the low level of amniotic fluid confirmed our fears that her kidneys were not functioning. We faced the painful decision to return home and let nature take its course. Each day felt like a tormenting wait, wondering if my baby had died inside me. Would she ever survive birth? How would this impact my marriage? What would our five-year-old think if she lost the sister she had longed for?
Finding Comfort in Advocacy
In the end, Lily was stillborn, and I took comfort in the knowledge that she would never experience suffering. I resolved to share our story and advocate for laws that protect a woman’s right to make healthcare decisions for herself and her child. I have engaged in debates online, spoken before our state legislature, and created awareness campaigns to challenge restrictive laws. No parent should feel shame for making a compassionate choice for a terminally ill child.
If a child is declared brain dead, parents are allowed to turn off life support; if a child faces terminal illness, parents can choose to stop treatment. Why should it be any different for a child still in the womb? Is it merely because she had not yet been born?
I advocate not only for a woman’s right to choose but also for her right to carry to term. There is no universal solution when families face devastating prenatal diagnoses. We all love our children and want what is best for them, and we deserve the freedom to make those choices.
For more insights on family planning and choices, you can explore related topics like this post on home insemination kits.
Summary
This article recounts a mother’s painful journey as she faced the heart-wrenching decision to end her pregnancy due to her daughter’s diagnosis of Trisomy 18. The author shares her experiences navigating healthcare choices in a restrictive political environment, advocating for the rights of parents making similar decisions. The narrative emphasizes the importance of compassion and understanding in the face of difficult choices.
Keyphrase: Trisomy 18 and abortion
Tags: “home insemination kit”, “home insemination syringe”, “self insemination”