The Gifted Choice

By Katrina Head

Your daughter is going to be born with a genetic defect.

Did the doctor just say defect? What is he talking about?

She has Down syndrome, but you have a choice. You can terminate this pregnancy.

He watched me closely, waiting for my response.

Those words, the ones the doctor said so casually, instantly changed the future I had planned for my unborn child.

A poignant story about coming to terms with a life-changing decision. Not just a story about Down syndrome, its about acceptance, holding on to shattered faith, regaining hope, and receiving grace. A true story that offers you the gift of gratitude and rewards you with inspiration.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Apr 17, 2013
• ISBN: 9781449791025

Katrina Head

Katrina Head works as a professional life coach. She uses her educational training and inborn love of horses to run an equine-assisted psychotherapy program at her family farm in Michigan. You can read her blog at www.corahead.blogspot.com.

Book preview

Chapter 1

A s I sat on the closed toilet seat lid, I looked at the test I held in my hand. I was pregnant, and I thought that was going to be the hard part. After all, coming to terms with being pregnant at the age of forty-three is hard for most women. I already had four other children, three daughters aged twenty, eighteen, and sixteen, and a son, aged eight. I hadn’t planned this pregnancy, and as a single parent, I didn’t need another baby. However, the Creator often has plans for our lives that don’t coincide with ours.

I remember looking at the fourth pregnancy test and trying to see the humor in the situation. I held all four tests in my hand and saw they were all positively screaming pregnancy, with the double red lines on each one. I could no longer deny the possibility, I was definitely pregnant. I stepped out of denial and into I can do this mode. I had yet to realize how often I would return to that short, simple phrase in the coming months.

The pregnancy was easy in the beginning. My morning sickness was tolerable, and I was able to continue to work in my horse-training arena. (I am an equine-assisted Christian life coach.) The routine of those days kept me sane.

I was puzzled by the realization that my tummy wasn’t showing, and I was still able to wear my regular jeans into my fourth month. With all of my other pregnancies, I had outgrown my regular pants and was into maternity pants within the first three months. I remember thinking that something was off—that something was different this time. Each time this thought came into my mind, I would chase it away with the thought that I was just being concerned because of my age. Still, as many times as I chased away that gut feeling, it would soon return and again start nagging me.

When you are my age, doctors look very closely at your pregnancy and like to focus on all the things that could be wrong with the developing fetus. I agreed to all the testing and blood work and listened to the heartfelt warnings the OB nurse and OB/GYN doctor told me about.

Then it happened—the first red flag. My blood work came back with markers for a genetic defect in the fetus. I struggled with the decision to have an amniocentesis done because there is a risk of having a miscarriage after this kind of test. I wanted an absolute answer so I could make plans and somehow prepare myself before the baby was born. I am the kind of person who would rather know than take a wait-and-see approach, so I agreed to have the test done.

I would stand in the shower in the morning, wash my belly, and talk to the baby. I would pray to the Creator that she wasn’t going to be born with Down syndrome. I would beg the Creator to give me a normal, average baby. My OB had counseled me on the statistics. He told me that 92 percent of women choose to terminate the pregnancy, and then he informed me of my options. I could have the baby and give her up for adoption, I could have the baby and keep her, or I could choose to terminate the pregnancy. Terminating the pregnancy was not a choice for me, yet I understood why this might be a choice for another woman.

The whole idea was incredibly scary and one I could not hide from. This child was constantly with me. My belly moved and protruded with developing elbows and knees. The baby growing in my belly was a constant reminder that life would never again be normal.

I told the OB that abortion was not an option for me and neither was adoption. The Creator chose me to be this child’s mother, and I had to stand in faith with his choosing.

I started calling the fetus by her name—Cora Jean—and I would talk to her and feel her moving in her safe, water-filled environment. I needed to know. I had to know. I wanted to know.

On December 14, 2010, the OB walked into the exam room and sat down on his three-legged, black stool and spun around to look me straight in the face. Your daughter is going to be born with Down syndrome, he said. Just like that. No stalling, no cautionary tone. He just blurted it out like he was ordering a pizza and then sat on that stupid little stool, staring at me, waiting for me to react.

He watched my face intently. I could see him staring at me. I could see him talking to me, but I couldn’t hear anything. I couldn’t breathe. The room was suddenly too hot; no wait, it was cold. Where was the air? Was I breathing? Was this a joke? What was he saying? I saw his lips moving; why wasn’t he saying anything? Really? Why were my ears ringing so loud? Creator, where are you? Where are you! My mind was shouting, but no words were coming out of my mouth.

Bless that doctor, though. He just kept calm and kept talking to me. I was finally able to have a conversation with the poor man. I told him again that I was not going to terminate the pregnancy. He said we were still within the safe time of aborting a fetus, especially if it was known to have genetic defects. The law would allow me to terminate this pregnancy, but my heart and soul would not.

You know, I was fortunate the OB doctor only asked me those two times if I wanted to end the pregnancy, and then he didn’t approach that subject or ask me again. I have since heard many stories of women who were somewhat bullied into ending their pregnancies by their doctors. A supportive OB/GYN is imperative to this kind of decision. I was blessed with a doctor who was not pushing his own bias on me. Remember when I asked the Creator where he was? He was right there in that room with me. In his divine wisdom, he had blessed me with a supportive and proactive doctor who became a heavenly gift in the days to come.

I left that appointment with my mind racing. How was I going to tell my family and friends? Did I have what it takes to raise a child with Down syndrome? How were my other children going to feel when I told them? As I traveled home from the appointment, my mind alternated from wildly racing to numb and frozen. That day will forever be marked as the real beginning of Cora’s and my life together.

Between January 2011 and Cora’s birth, I went through many tests and ultrasounds. The concern was allowing Cora every chance at a normal delivery as possible. With the stress of the pregnancy and the age of my body, I was put on semi-bed rest. I was getting sporadic contractions, and I could no longer work. I spent many days on the couch, and this, unfortunately, left time for me to research on the Internet.

One of my biggest enemies became my mind. It was very easily swayed by negative thoughts and comments. My mind, by not staying focused on my faith, was an easy target for evil, and depression started to set in.

I saw Cora on the ultrasounds, and she looked so beautiful and free in her surroundings. I would see her hair floating and watch her hands and feet move. At one of those ultrasounds, I was sure she waved at me. The ultrasounds were all the black and white kind that made Cora appear fuzzy and grainy, like watching a TV show that wasn’t tuned in the right way. I felt like that—fuzzy, grainy, not quite real, yet here at the same time. While it was reassuring to see her when I was in doctors’ offices, the minute I walked out of the building, my mind would start racing in endless circles.

I remember wanting to really see what a child with Down syndrome would look like at birth. I booted up my laptop, clicked on the Internet link, and searched Down syndrome infant. What I saw scared the sense right out of me.