It was the Friday before Thanksgiving when Chris and I were told that Joey was going to die.
I was offered to determine the timeline.
We were told that if he didn’t die before I birthed him, that he would die within minutes of being born.
The feeling in my chest, the heaviness, the sadness, the disbelief, the anger. We went into that appointment EXCITED to know that our boy had Trisomy 21 and would need open heart surgery. We didn’t realize just how different his heart was.
So dramatic, right? It WAS. I’m not sure how much I’ve talked about his brain, what they saw in those ultrasounds – but he had what looked like hydrocephalus and people were concerned. His heart, his brain, his chromosomes – all things we were told to consider.
There are people in my life that are still angry with this doctor, they can’t believe “what he put us through”. This doctor was KIND, and spoke to us from his core. He delivered a message that we were meant to hear. He gave us an opportunity to decide where our life was going. Prior to a year ago, I made most decisions with my head. Deliberating, comparing, contrasting, researching, you name it, I did it. He will never know how grateful I am to him, the gift he gave to all of us (you included) is something that can’t be defined.
That weekend was spent in tears, delivering the news to our loved ones, the news that was slowly settling in. We decided to just love him, to keep him with us for as long as he chose. My entire pregnancy we cried and LOVED. We got to talk to Malcolm about tears and love. We appreciated the LIFE Joey was living for what it was, not what we wished it was. We lived from our hearts, and when our heads got in the way we tried so hard to have compassion for ourselves. I began to feel, really feel ME, my soul, my essence, my heart.
The Friday before Thanksgiving my heart broke wide open, and then started working again.