I’ve heard this phrase too many times to count in the few short weeks since I found out my baby has a genetic defect, namely Trisomy 18. Along with that, the words “termination of pregnancy” have been thrown around, too. I understand that my doctors are simply putting out all the options for us, but they don’t understand how such words makes me feel on the inside.

My doctor was concerned today with my choices of continuing with this pregnancy. Not in the sense that he thinks I should terminate – because I’m not considering that option – but with the dangers and risks I’m allowing to potentially happen regarding my health and the health of my baby. This was hard to hear today because I’ve already been struggling. Every day gets a little more difficult for me. Every day I feel a little bit heavier, feel more exhaustion, and feel like the end is nowhere close by.

In the last two weeks my amniotic fluid levels have risen about 2-3 cm every 4-5 days. I’m currently at 37.65 cm. Anything above 25 cm is considered Polyhydramnios.

Since my last hospital visit a few days ago I’ve been put on a medication that I have to take 3 times a day in order to stop the increase of fluid plus decrease the amount of my contractions. The medication makes me extremely drowsy.

Among all of this, my body is still trying so hard to go into labor. With the size of my uterus, it thinks that I’m much further along than I actually am.

It’s difficult for me to think that anyone can really understand what this is like for me. I know I want to keep my baby. I mean, she’s my child. She’s my flesh and blood. I’ve always wanted to have a little girl. I know without a doubt that if I can just see her face, for the first time right in front of me, that everything will be solidified. From the first day we found out I was pregnant, to the day we learned that she’s a girl, to now. Though I may not remember it, I know that I knew her in heaven. I already have so much love for her. Now, I just want to know her. I’m desperate to know her. I can’t wait for the day that she comes.

These are the hopes I’m holding onto. These are the hopes and beliefs that are propelling me forward and keeping me going.

Though, I know the road will be difficult after her birth. It’s especially difficult not knowing what life will be like for her, what sort of medical and intellectual difficulties she’ll face. There’s not really a parents guide to this sort of thing. We just have to take things one day at a time and learn as we go. Isn’t that what parenting is?

Adapting to the circumstances – that’s all we can do.

On the other hand, these sort of “preaches” I’m giving out frustrate me. I can say all that I want to about being strong and keep moving forward yet most days I wish I could just give up, I wish it would all just stop.

It’s okay to feel this way, I tell myself. These feelings are natural. It’s what makes me human. It’s just a little worse when other people tell me these things – to be strong, to keep moving forward, and that I was made to do this. Okay, it’s easy for you to say those things but you’re not the one who has to do it.

I would rather people sympathize with me rather than cheer me on. I would rather they offer some sort of help than give me a simple positive comment and move on.

Despite all of this, I want to thank those that have gone beyond the simple words of encouragement. I can’t thank you enough.