The moment of impact

There are certain moments in life that alter the entire direction of fate; unknowingly, at age 20, I was about to live through one of those. It was during my undergraduate years when everything is still rather carefree and I still was trying to find my way, when I found out that I was pregnant. Extremely surprising, unplanned and earth shattering, I discovered I was already 13 weeks along. Everything that I had wanted to do with my life seemed to dissipate and I had absolutely no idea what to do. All that I knew was I was going to be a parent. And I had to figure things out quickly. 

For the first few weeks, I was pretty much in denial. Didn't know what to think, who to turn to and was extremely lost. Despite having an incredible support system, I felt so alone. But I continued to go to school and muddle through my daily routine, hoping that my feelings would start to change. 

Needless to say after about 7 weeks, I had really come around. The idea had grown not only on Kyle, the father, but myself as well. In fact, you could probably say I was close to excited. And before I knew it, the week had come to find out if we were having a boy or girl. Time flew by up until the point in the waiting room. We couldn't be called back fast enough. We practically ran back. My shirt came up, the cold gel was applied and the sonographer began poking around. She immediately confirmed it was a girl! But to my horror, she mustered up a smile. It was one of those fake, uncomfortable smiles when you know something is wrong. Kyle didn't notice, but I died a little inside. 

We were taken back to a room and told by the obstetrician that we were being sent first thing Monday morning to a specialist for further tests to be run. I was horrifed and left the office like a dog with its tail between its legs. It was the longest weekend of my life. And I kept waiting for her to kick, but never did.

Monday morning came around, we were walked back into the white-walled, bright-lighted room and given another ultrasound. Immediately afterward, Kyle and I walked back to the obstetrician's personal office and were told that our little girl had a severe case of Spina Bifida and Hydrocephalus. This news was immediately followed by, she most likely won't make it the length of the pregnancy and you will need to make a decision about whether to move forward and let nature take its course or give birth to her early. 

The wind felt knocked out of me, my heart sunk to my toes and my mind raced. I sobbed and Kyle sat somberly in the chair next to me. The doctor decided to give us a few days to ponder our choices. And we left the office in silence. 

The worst days of my entire life. But we chose to have her early with a natural birth. Friday, March 9th we found out that we were having a little girl and Friday, March 16th we gave birth. We chose to name her Parkar Grais. 

What no one can prepare you for is the aftermath. No one tells you that you want to die. No one tells you how deep of a physical pain you can feel. No person should ever have to bury their child, at any age. 

It has been four years and not one day goes by that she doesn't impact my every choice. We take her little angel urn on vacation with us and her urn sits in our living room, so she can be with us every single day. Kyle and I love to talk about her and she has inspired us to join an organization called Ainsley's Angels that pushes physically disabled children in endurance races. Being around children that have Parkar's condition has actually helped us to heal. Whatever healing means. It is a lifelong journey that I am choosing to look at with a positive outlook rather than the negative, because Parkar would want us to be happy.