Have you heard of the Olympian Shaun White my doctor asks? Shawn has Tetralogy of Fallot. Woah I think, well, ok. Shaun has done alright. Maybe this will be okay after all. Will my kid be an Olympian? Probably not. But, this may not be the death sentence that I’d been picturing.
When I write death sentence, I know that it seems dramatic. But that’s my reality. One day I had two healthy daughters and the next day one was dead. My brain doesn’t offer me the luxury of in between. I’ve never had a sick child. I’ve never had to fight through anything. I wasn’t offered the luxury of coming out the other side in victory. My child was dead- and my heart felt that this new child would die too.
So I didn’t celebrate. My family knew of the pregnancy and its challenges but I didn’t tell anyone else. My body wasn’t embracing pregnancy. I didn’t look pregnant. Apart from greeting each and every morning with a vomit session, I didn’t feel pregnant. And I was soon to find out why I wasn’t looking pregnant.