January 18 – Ultrasound day. The day we get to meet our baby boy or girl and see him/her up close and personal. While there is always some anxiety, this day is usually met with much excitement and anticipation. My parents and sister were going to meet us for lunch afterwards to find out what we were having. Instead of my normal gender reveal with pink or blue flowers, I was thinking of buying cupcakes or something edible for my girls to enjoy. After this day, we were going to start sharing the news of our pregnancy more liberally with family and friends.
The ultrasound started out pretty standard and I liked our technician because she was a bit more talkative than ones I have had previously. It makes me less nervous when they talk to you because your mind goes to bad places when they’re silent. So the first few measurements she took of my anatomy (placenta, ovaries, etc.) were over small talk and seemingly normal. Then she started on the baby and things got a little quieter. After just a short time, she stopped the ultrasound and said the words I will never forget: ‘The baby is measuring on the small side and I have some concerns.’
My darkest hour. The tears instantly started flowing as I tried to make sense of what she was saying. I heard the words coming out of her mouth, but I couldn’t process everything. She asked if we wanted to know what her concerns were or if we wanted to wait for the doctor. My husband and I gave different answers – he wanted the doctor; I wanted to know now. He conceded and she said she had concerns with the baby’s leg, heart chambers and something else that I can’t remember. She said the doctor would be able to go over the findings. Before she left the room, I remember asking if the baby was a girl or a boy. A girl. Our third precious girl.
We had a short list of girls’ names with one front contender, but hadn’t fully decided yet. In those moments when we just learned of our daughter’s conditions and were faced with our worst fears, our daughter was named. Holding my hand and through tears of his own, my husband said to me: “She’s still our daughter. She’s our girl. Liliana is our girl. She is a blessing from God and we love her.”
This man. Thank you Lord for bringing this man into my life. When faced with our darkest hour, he knew that You don’t make mistakes and that this precious baby girl would change our lives. He knew that every child is a blessing and deserves life. He knew that no matter what any doctor would tell us, nothing would change the fact that Liliana is the same baby that we had loved for the previous five months and will continue to love every moment after for the rest of our lives. He knew exactly what I needed to hear. My husband was my rock that day and has been every day since.
When the radiologist finally came in, he confirmed the technician’s findings in a very gentle manner. We asked the questions that you’re afraid to hear the answers to. And while the doctor left room for hope, we left with the sense that there was a high likelihood that Liliana’s condition wasn’t compatible with life.
When he left, my husband and I stayed in that room for a long time. I was numb. I didn’t know how I was even going to get up and leave the room, much less survive this news or the next five months. Somehow we made it home and he took on the difficult task of telling my family who was anxiously awaiting the news of the gender reveal.
It was by far the most difficult day of my life to that point. My self preservation mode has always been to just shut down and feel nothing when things get tough emotionally. But this time I couldn’t escape it. I don’t remember how I got through the rest of the day. It was a living nightmare from which there was no relief. At least that’s what I thought at that point. It was hard to see God through my grief that day and so I suffered without Him. You can suffer with Christ or without Him. I can tell you that without Him is a very dark and lonely place.
That night I read some of the terms the doctor had thrown out as possibilities of Liliana’s condition. None of them were good. I wanted to find the miracle stories out there to cling on to some hope, but I found very little to hold on to. It would later be confirmed that her diagnosis was Trisomy 18.
As difficult as it is to remember this day, I know how far I’ve come and how much I’ve grown in my faith. The way I felt in those early days and weeks were beyond awful and not sustainable for my sanity. So many questions, emotions, confusion, desperation,and countless sleepless nights crying over shattered dreams. As easy as it would have been to stay in a place of despair or anger, God didn’t let me dwell there for too long. I knew I needed help. And there was only one place to turn.
Claudia,
I just read many of your posts. I too had a loss and I too found God through this journey of infertility and loss. Thank you for sharing your story and inspiring and giving strength to many other women who are going through similar situations. You have a beautiful family and I want to celebrate Liliana’s life because her short time in this world is a blessing not only for your family for for many other.
Hi Orly. I’m so sorry for your loss and the struggles you have faced. There are never any good words to say, but thankfully where people’s words fall short, God’s words can heal. I’m so happy to hear you found God on your journey. I honestly don’t know how people get through life’s difficulties without Him. Thank you for your kind words and for reaching out. You have no idea how much comfort it brings me when I hear from other moms like you (actually, you probably do know). It brings me great joy to know that my sharing Liliana’s story can help other women, but it is also healing for me. And lastly, thank you for celebrating Liliana’s life. I will remember your baby tonight and ask Liliana to say hello in heaven. God bless!
Dear Claudia
I imagine theres is no pain more far reaching and deeper than losing a child, I was reading Liliana’s story and literally broke my heart with all that you and Martin went through, my heart and prayers go out to you at this most difficult time.
I know we never lose the people we love, they live the rest of our lives with us in our heart.
Thank you for sharing such a touching story
Love you,
Auntie Gloria
Thank you Aunt Gloria. She is in our hearts and we make her a part of our daily lives in many ways. Thank you for your words and prayers and for reading about Liliana. Even though we are far from family, I know your love and support were with us from the beginning. Much love to you.
Claudia, I know that the loss of a loved one is difficult, especially the loss of your child. I want to thank you for telling your story and sharing it with all of the world. Although we are far away, we are family and I feel that much closer to you. I pray God continues to heal you and Martin of your pain and gives your the strength the to find His purpose.
Thank you Eli. I know you also know the pain of losing a loved one and I’m sorry for your loss. Through our faith, we know we’ll see them again, and I take comfort in that. Thank you for reading about Liliana and for your support. Big hug to you and your mom.
Thank you for posting your story. Unfortunately, I have a similar story to tell. Your description of the ultrasound day seems very familiar to mine. Will never forget that day for the rest of my life… It felt like the earth shattered around me. I am happy to see that there are people willing to talk about this as part of healing and part of healing others. Most importantly honoring your little girl. Stay strong.
Hi Monika. Thank you for sharing about your baby. We will never forget that day or our babies that we carried. We love them all. It helps to talk about them and know we’re not alone. I’ve already heard from so many women who have had their own difficult experiences. I’m humbled to share Liliana’s story and honored that others are sharing theirs. God bless our little angels.
Claudia- I am emotional and tearful reading your news. How brave you are and an amazing mom to make sure everyone knows about Lilliana. She was adorable!! I cried through a similar diagnosis, trisomy 13, with our first little boy. A similar start to yours, with a quiet technician at his 12 week ultrasound. A few days later, after a CVS, they told us he had T13. Such a difficult time. We didn’t know what to hope for as his prognosis was horrific, maybe he’d live for a day. God came and took him early, before 14 weeks gestation. We like to think it was for the best for him. I hope we both meet our sweeties one day. I still have a blanket bear the T13 support group sent me as a reminder of my little man. I know you will cheerish all the pictures and keepsakes you have from little L. I’ll be thinking of you and sending love and peace.
Sue, I’m so sorry to hear about your son. It’s such a painful experience, but like us, so many women have been through it. I also have two special bears from the hospital for Liliana that the girls like to sleep with. I cherish all of the keepsakes I have. Thank you for sharing. May all our babies be friends in heaven watching over their mamas. Much love.
Thank you for sharing your story Claudia. Always praying for you and your family love yous
Thanks Kelly. Love you too honey.