Megan’s Story
January 23, 2019 started with a mix of pure excitement and a little bit of fear. My husband and I had taken the day off work and he brought me strawberries and cream for breakfast in bed. Afterwards, we got up to go to the anatomy ultrasound for our first baby. We sat together in the exam room, so excited to see our little one moving and to find out if we were having a girl or a boy.
“It’s a girl!” the tech announced, and we knew she was our Adelynn Claire. We moved to the waiting room and studied the scans, imagining the excitement our family would feel when they heard the news, and dreaming, even then, of what life would be like with our little girl. Our doctor joined us and pulled us into his office. “Something is not quite right. We need better images.”
Our joy turned to fear. We were booked for an ultrasound with a Maternal Fetal Medicine doctor the very next day. We called our parents. “It’s a girl, but…” My mother and father rushed from Florida to Virginia to be with us. My mother said she knew in her heart that she needed to be with us for the next day.
The next day came. We were met with the kindest ultrasound tech and brilliant team of doctors. They performed an hour long scan, and then we met with the MFM doctor and a geneticist. “Your baby has holoprosencephaly and it has caused catastrophic brain abnormalities.”
A scream that I didn’t recognize left my mouth. I wept. My mother and father took diligent notes as the doctor continued giving us his primary diagnosis, and my husband and I just looked at each other in horrific disbelief. The doctors described how this condition, and her severity specifically, was incompatible with life. They spent hours with us. Towards the end of our conversation with them, they asked us if we wanted to terminate the pregnancy. My knee jerk reaction was a resounding, “No!”
Over the next two months, we got a clearer picture of her diagnosis. I felt her all the while, kicking and rolling in my belly. The reality of how sick she was could not settle in my brain. At times, I considered early induction, but I kept coming back to the only truth I knew: that Adelynn was living, and the only way I could survive the pending loss was to let God be the One to determine her days. I reached out to a dear friend who had lived this loss before, and she told me something I still carry. She said, “Megan, God gives you strength for today, and today only. Make it through today. Even if you brush your teeth today that is a victory.”
So, we chose to live intentionally throughout the remainder of my pregnancy. We ate our favorite foods. We did the things we wanted Adelynn to experience. We went to the beach, had afternoon tea, and visited the zoo. We wanted those memories of life with our girl. We shared her life and diagnosis with others and invited them to celebrate Adelynn with us.
We chose to induce labor on May 31 at 39 weeks. Our hospital was brilliant in allowing us to care for our baby girl and make precious memories. We had the best and most gentle nurses who loved our baby with us and gave u time to cherish her. She came crying into this world on June 1. My first words to my husband were, “She made it!” We didn’t know if she would survive birth and if she would have the capacity to cry. She did both. We rested in skin to skin time.
We chose comfort care for Adelynn. After three days in the hospital, we transitioned to a hospice site. The hospice we went to was not accustomed to caring for infants, but in the three days we were at the hospital they converted a room into a nursery for her. They even brought in a beautiful wooden rocker that they allowed us to keep.
It was in that beautiful room with butterfly stickers on the walls that Adelynn lived her last days. We took her on walks around the neighborhood that the hospice was in, and her daddy helped her go down a slide. We sang over her. We prayed. We cried. We laughed. Her daddy told her all of the Star Wars stories and read her the Christmas story. Her grandmothers sang their favorite lullabies and got her dressed up to show off to all of the hospice nurses. Her grandfathers beamed with pride over her. At night, I laid awake with her, only sleeping when her daddy held her. I took in every piece of her from her beautiful brown hair, to her butterfly shaped lips. She was just precious.
On June 8, at 9:05pm, Adelynn left this world. I held her as she took her last breaths, just as as I had held her when she took her first. A sob left my body just as it had when we first heard the news. In God’s timing she was gone. We were so blessed to have had seven days with her, and the nine months before that.
After we lost Adelynn, we suffered a miscarriage in September of 2019. The loss was very different, but I am keenly aware that I have two babies waiting for me in heaven. We named our August baby Logan.
We got pregnant in January of 2020 and had a tough pregnancy. I eventually started therapy during that pregnancy because of fears that were at times uncontrolled. On October 1, 2020, we welcomed Adelynn and Logan’s little sister, Dorothy Lynn. Dorothy means gift of God, and what a gift she is.
I still carry Adelynn with me daily. My love for her will continue and it has changed me. I trust in the Word of God that He is with me, and that He knows my sorrows. The story of Jesus’s death and resurrection has taken new meaning after the loss of my children. First, I am more intimately aware of the pain that God surely must have felt in the loss of Jesus. And I am more profoundly thankful for Jesus’s resurrection and the hope that offers me. Psalm 147:3 says, “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” My strength comes from the Lord and my ability to move forward is rooted in my hope in Him.
- Megan
Hope Mom to Adelynn and Logan
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