The 100th Post...Another Letter to My Daughter

Dear Abigail,

Wow. Where to begin with this one, I am just not sure. I could begin by telling you all about how hard it was to get you here. How hard YOU have fought, right from the very start. We had trouble getting pregnant and so underwent two rounds of invitro fertilization (I’ll explain what that is when you are older.) Anyhow, when it was time to take the pregnancy test my second time around, they told me I was pregnant, but would miscarry. After many more bloodtests, you and your sister (and 3rd sibling whom which we don’t know the gender) proved them wrong. At our 7 week ultrasound, we saw 3 beautiful babies inside of me, but sadly, one did not have a heartbeat. But you and Madison were going strong. The problem was, they didn’t see a membrane between you and your identical twin Madison, so they said we only had a 50 percent chance of you surviving.

A week later, they saw the membrane and gave you and Madison a much better chance. We progressed fine until you were 16 weeks old. That is when they told us that you and Madison were suffering from Twin to Twin Transfusion Syndrome. They said without treatment, you would both undoubtedly die. They offered us options, including terminating the pregnancy. But we knew, deep down, that we just couldn’t give up on you. And it was at this point that your Daddy and I decided that we had to do everything we could to save you and Madison.

We went to see a special surgeon, who said he could increase our chances of both of you being born healthy. So when you and your sister were 18 weeks old, I underwent surgery to correct the TTTS. I was awake for the entire procedure, and I witnessed the most amazing sight anyone could ever ask for. I saw you. And your sister Madison. In my womb. Right there on a big screen and in high definition. Now understand, there are not many mommies who get to see their unborn children quite in the way I got to see you, but to this day, I have a clear, vivid memory of the miracle I witnessed. And it is all the more special because I got an up-close and personal look at Madison. Something I will forever cherish and something I wish I could share with you and your Daddy.

We did great, the 3 of us, for 6 more weeks until suddenly, your sister Madison, died. We don’t really know why and probably never will. But you, my sweet angel…you fought on. I don’t know how you did it. For almost 5 more weeks inside of me you fought for your life. You had tiny amounts of amniotic fluid to keep you going. You had a heart arrythmia. You had to share your space, my womb, with your motionless sister, who was growing smaller everyday.

5 weeks and 4 days later, you decided that you would fare better outside my womb and I went into labor. I knew it was way to early for you to come…11 weeks too early, but you knew best. You knew you would do better once out of me.

And so, you were born. On August 24, 2008, you and your sister Madison were born. And as hard as you fought inside me, you would prove to be even stronger outside of me. For the first 2 days you looked great. But then your belly started to swell. They took you away by ambulance and I was crushed. Your Daddy split his time between your hospital and mine. On your 3rd day of life, your hospital called me and told me you were sick. That you were being sent right to surgery. Your daddy came running to you. He waited and waited. He was told you wouldn’t make it. He called me and told me my baby was very sick and would probably die. But you, my sweet angel, you proved them wrong. You fought tooth and nail and defied every odd. Yes, there were some complications. And yes, for the first 5 months you lived a somewhat “abnormal” life, with your colostomy and all. But you survived.

Last week, we took you back to the hospital. It was the hardest thing your Daddy and I have ever had to do. You underwent a grueling 4 hours and 7 minutes of surgery. As I handed you off to the nurse who walked you into the operating room, my heart broke. Into a million pieces. Those 4 hours and 7 minutes while you were away from me were the worst of my life. But once again, you proved your strength and courage. You healed faster than most. You my dear, have been through more in your short 5 months than many people go through in a lifetime. And your strength and determination just prove to Daddy and I that our fight when you were in my womb was SO well worth it.

I know you won’t understand exactly all that you have been through, even though you have the scars to prove it. And I hope when you are grown up and want to start a family of your own, that it will be easy. That you will carry your children to term. That you will never have to spend a minute in a place they call the NICU. It is a place I don’t wish upon anyone. I hope you always know how much you are loved. And I hope that someday you have the chance to love your own children the way that your Daddy and I love you.

Our pride cannot even be put into words baby. You truly are our miracle and we love and cherish every second of every day that we get to spend with you. You are tough. You are strong. You are a fighter. And we love you, sweet Abigail. More than you will ever know.

Love Always,

Mommy and Daddy