I have been told three different times this week by three different people that carrying out my pregnancy was heroic, admirable, and commendable.
I am none of these things.
I am a momma who's life took a journey in a direction that I could have never anticipated. A direction that I could have never prepared for or believed that I would have made it through.
I am not a hero, I simply refused to give up hope on what I longed so desperately for.
I have been changed and have found that I am stronger than I ever believed.
And, reflecting back on my journey, I am truly proud of myself.
Does it sound conceded to say that I am proud of myself?
I hope not.
I don't mean to be conceded but life handed me the unimaginable in the past year and I am truly proud of me.
There
was a large needled stuck into my abdomen while I was awake to obtain a segment of my placenta.
My arms, legs, and head were strapped to a table and slid into a
closed MRI for close to an hour so a better image could be obtained of her kidneys.
I watched an ultrasound screen close to 15 times trying to make sense of changes from week to week riding the ups and downs as things got better then bad and then worse.
I sat around a conference table and listened as her anomalies were presented and potential interventions/surgeries/transplants were explained believing in my heart that quality of life should outweigh quantity of life even if my heart was not ready.
After indepth conversations to discuss the pros and cons, we made a decision to not wear the heart rate monitor during my labor knowing that there was a potential my daughter would not be born alive.
I carried my child within me for
35 weeks and 5 days despite the fact that being visibly pregnant resulted in very difficult and emotional conversations
with people who had no idea of my story.
I had painful conversations
about comfort care, death, funeral homes, and cremation/burial.
I endured labor knowing that
my joy in the end would be robbed.
I swaddled my daughter one last time, ensured her hat was perfectly
situated on her head, gave her one final kiss, and placed her body
into basket and sobbed as she was carried away knowing that I would never
see her again in this life.
I packed my bag and walked out of the hospital empty handed leaving behind the only place my daughter ever was.
I bound myself with ice packs for close to two weeks when my milk came in to help reduce the
pain.
In a fog, I finalized plans for my daughter's memorial service and I sat at the front of a church to celebrate the life of a child I would never know beyond her first and only day of life.
8 weeks after her passing, I returned to work and walk the halls of the hospital where I pass the
cardiologist that did the ECHO and the doctors from the fetal health
appointment. My heart stings a little with each siting.
In working to get myself healthy, I continue to see a counselor, find solace in my support group, have managed to drop the baby weight, and am finding ways to ensure that my daughter's life has purpose.
I am a better person today
because of her.
I did what was best for Addy regardless of my
what it would mean for my body, regardless of how sad it made me, and
regardless that it was not easy. I believe so much that I am forever changed that if I could
roll back time, I would endure it all again. I would because I saw Addy open her eyes, I had the opportunity to kiss her
precious lips, I felt her warmth against my chest, and because I am at
peace with our journey.
I have never uttered the
words, "I wish we would have" or "if I could do
it all over again, I would change." I prayed for time with my daughter
and that she would not struggle. I didn't want her to gasp for air, to
struggle to breathe, or to be in pain. To be honest, I am not certain
when Addy passed away. The time of her birth and the time of her death
are listed as 41 minutes apart but there was not a clear moment of her
passing. She did not live long but she never hurt,
she never struggled, and she never gasped. She passed peacefully and prayers were answered.
I am
proud that I am still standing after the journey my life has taken.
And more so, I am proud to be Addalyn's momma.
To the moon and back.