We made it through the weekend and headed to our appointment Monday morning.
Honestly, I was just holding on to any kind of hope. In the back of my mind I just kept thinking, that this could not possibly be as bad as it all sounded. I thought maybe our doctor would have better news than what we had read online, perhaps a scenario where we would bring our baby home with some health challenges but home none the less.
I should back track and let you know that over the weekend someone had given me a copy of Angie Smith’s book “I will carry you” and I had started reading it. In “I will carry you” Angie Smith tells the story of carrying her little girl who had a prenatal diagnosis that was incompatible with life. Her story is a beautiful one and I ended up reading it three times. It was such lifeline to me. I wasn’t very far into it at the time but I remember her talking about her doctor who gave them the news of her little one's diagnosis. She mentioned his dry sense of humor, cut to the chase bedside manor, yet tender compassion as he treated her. His name was Dr. Fortunato
We started our visit with a short ultrasound and afterward we were escorted to a room where we were introduced to none other than the same Dr.Fortunato.
He began by asking us if we had any questions. I wasn't sure where to start so I began with the most pressing.
“Can you tell us about her condition and maybe help us know what to expect. We have two boys and we are trying to know how to prepare ourselves and them for what Lorris’s condition could be like.”
I will never forget that moment and what he said as long as I live.
“Your daughter will not live. Trisomy 18 affects every single cell in her body. I wish I could tell you something different but I can’t. Her condition is not compatible with life. She will either die before she is born, while she is being born, or shortly there-after. That is what you need to prepare for.”
He went on to give us a short list of things that he could see on the ultrasound that supported what he had just told us.
Angie Smith wasn’t kidding. He had just put it to us exactly like it was.
I could not believe what I was hearing. It all felt like a big lie, a nightmare that I just couldn’t wake up from. Dr. F hadn’t given us even one ounce of hope for our daughter coming home from the hospital alive. There was no good news to be had-none.
We left his office knowing two things. We not only needed to prepare for our daughter’s birth, but we also needed to brace ourselves and make preparations for her death and we had no idea what order those two things would happen in.
So my sweet husband walked me from that office out to our van with his arm around me and said, “Jenny hon ey, what do you want to do now?”
What do I want to do now? A list of things came to my mind- scream, beg and plead, fall apart.
I paused and thought for a moment. I was Lorris’s momma and I was going to spend whatever time she and I had together taking care of her. I wanted to do anything I could for her, big or small, whatever that might look like.
So I said, “Lorris is going to be really small and she needs something to wear when she is born. Maybe a gown for a preemie. Can we look for something?"
There was a world of things that I couldn't do for my little girl, so many things I couldn't change. Buying her something to wear, now that was something I could do.
So that's exactly what we did.