Strands of Grace: Abby's Birth Story

Abby is the reason I started this blog. Plain and simple. When she was born, I was a young mom in a pre-facebook/instagram/social media savvy world, looking for help. I scoured the internet for wisdom. There was a medical website here and there, information about Down Syndrome that I found helpful. Kind of. But what helped me the most, in ways more powerful than I can say, was reading blogs. Nothing high traffic with ads and links. Just straight forward, not fancy, mommy blogs. Confessions of real people with real problems and real joys sharing their stories. It made me feel normal when my whole world had turned... anything but normal.

As sort of a thank you to the abyss, a means of paying it forward, and an avenue to share the testimony of our lives, I started my own blog. Sharing the adventure of life with Abby. And so much more. :)

Here I am 1 decade later. Life is (I can't help but laugh out loud!) different!! Oh so different...

In honor of our precious Abigail Grace and her 10th birthday, this is my story of her birth. 

My hope that this brings comfort to those who've also walked this road. You're not alone.

This story is a memorial stone. At the time, I had no idea what lay ahead. When I reflect on it, I'm reminded of all the things that Abby has taught me and how much we've grown together. But what's more, I'm overwhelmed with the great faithfulness of Christ. Strands of His love, grace, provision are woven through our story. Thanks for reading.

~~~

I was 23. Married for 4 years, we had a 3 year old and a 1 year old. My pregnancy was marked by nausea and low weight gain, just like the others before it. Every ultrasound perfect and beautiful, I was expecting a healthy baby girl.

There was no need to do any extra testing for birth defects. I was so young and my 2 other pregnancies and deliveries were picture perfect. So far, this one was on track to be the same. So far.

In my 3rd trimester, my belly wasn't measuring big enough. Although that was typical for me, nothing to worry about there. Especially with the lack of weight gain. At 36 weeks, I was only 7 lbs over my start weight. I had lost a lot of weight from aallll the morning sickness before I started adding any. But the doctor said my belly was measuring small as well at that checkup, so we did another ultrasound to be sure everything was ok.

I marveled at the technology as I watched the ultrasound tech measure the blood flow in the umbilical cord. Everything looked great. She looked and looked but couldn't find any problems. Except one minor thing. The baby was only estimated to be 4 lbs. 6 oz., which is really too small for a baby at 36 weeks gestation.

Once I was back in the exam room with my OB, she went over the results of the ultrasound. "Everything looks great. She's pretty small but we can't find the reason why. And it doesn't look like she's gaining at the rate we'd like to see. At this point, I think she will grow outside of the womb better than in. Momma's milk will do her lots of good." She smiled and reassured me. "Go home and pack on as many calories as you can. And we'll induce you in one week, once her lungs will be considered full term." In a last ditch effort, I went home and ate everything in sight! For a busy mom with 2 other babies at home, that's not an easy task! But I was diligent. And we scheduled the induction for November 9, 2006.

Between two sets of parents, aunts, uncles and friends, arrangements were made for Ashley and Emily. We headed into the hospital early that morning and started the process. They started Pitocin, gave me an epidural and we had the company of friends and family to help us pass the time until baby came! We talked and laughed and took pictures. Oh the joy of a not-natural labor! Haha! Sometime that afternoon, as I knew it was getting closer, everyone gave us a little space so I could rest and gear up for delivery. I rested, so peacefully, for a good little bit.

Little did I know, I would wake up to the beginning of what felt like a nightmare.

Sharp pains jolted me awake. This was not my first epidural and I knew that the pain shouldn't be this strong. Jake called for a nurse. She looked everything over and said that the epidural line looked good but for some reason it was "wearing off". At the height of another sharp pain, another nurse confirmed that they had no more time to investigate the epidural, it was time to push. Perfect.

Of all of my 5 babies, that birth was the most painful. Thankfully, it was also the fastest. Minutes later, at 6pm, Abigail Grace Spencer was born. At 5 lbs. 5 oz. Those last calories paid off!

Abigail Grace.

The nurses didn't hand her to me immediately, the way I had expected. They looked her over for a lot longer than I was comfortable with. "Her apgar score isn't what we want it to be. She keeps holding her breath. A lot of babies do this, it's ok. She'll be ok." Just give. her. to. me.

Once they felt she was stable enough, I held her as family members came in the room, a couple at a time. She was definitely less responsive than I remember the first two being but I really didn't give it a lot of thought. There's no better feeling than finally holding your baby in your arms. A sort of God given force field of protection emits from new mothers, covering their babies She's beautiful. She's here. She's mine. It's over. 

It wasn't.

Still in the delivery room, preparing to be moved to recovery, Jake was called out of the room. When he came back in, his face was... concerned. His voice went into a gentle but game-plan tone. Our girls, Ashley (age 3) and Emily (age 17 months) had been staying with friends and family. "They're rushing Emily to the emergency room downstairs. She's running a fever of 105." The blood drained from his face as he finished his sentence. "What do you want me to do," it was more of a statement than a question. We both knew that if he went to be with Emily, which he must, he couldn't come back to me. To Abby. 

An involuntary rush surged through me to rip out my IV's and get in an elevator, hospital gown and all. That was my baby down there. Maybe not the one I just gave birth to, but nevertheless, MY BABY. And she needed me.

I took a breath. We would have to divide and conquer. I expected that we would do that a lot over the years, having so many little ones close in age. I didn't expect to do it right now, in such a vulnerable state. "Just go. I love you."

The next little bit was a blur. They moved me to a recovery room. My mom was there. And I was praying. For my babies. A flood of post-delivery emotions: elation, fear (for Emily), joy, pain (from delivery), but mostly love. Looking at Abby, I was in love all over again.

All that I really know is that they ran tests on Emily, gave her fluids and meds to bring the fever down, and it was never fully diagnosed. Once she was stable, later that night, she was released and Jake took her home.

It was late when we heard a knock on the door of my room. My mom got up and shook the doctors hand. I recognized her as one of the pediatricians from our office. It's 10pm. I don't remember the pediatrician ever visiting us this late after delivery. She was kind, gentle and professional. "I just looked over your baby. She looks great. She's beautiful, congratulations." She went on to list things she was looking for and a sort of status on each. I was so tired, I was struggling to keep up but trying to understand each point. "... And those are the things that we keep an eye on with Down Syndrome."

Silence.

I vaguely remember my mom saying something to the effect that we weren't aware she had Down Syndrome. I think she apologized and thought we already knew. WE DIDN'T.

Have you ever seen an intense scene in a movie, where the picture is faded at the edges and you see a sequence of events happening but all you can hear is a heartbeat? That's what I felt for the next... well, a long time. What do you mean my baby has Down Syndrome? Are you even sure? How do you know? Don't speak that over my baby! She's perfect! I don't even know that I know what Down Syndrome is! Why are you saying this? Stop! I don't think any of those words reached my mouth. The doctor continued to speak. All heard was my own heartbeat.

Jake was in the car on his way home from what had to have been the longest day ever. On a dark interstate, with a sleeping 17 month old in his back seat, he got a call from me. "Babe. We just saw the doctor. They're saying that Abby has Down Syndrome." And I cried. "It's going be ok. We can do this. Let me get Emily home with my mom and I'll be back to the hospital."

The next day I asked that the doctors to do whatever testing need to be done to be sure. I now know that was a karyotype. They said they would order the test, but I could hear in their voices that it was pointless. They knew. Everyone knew. She had Down Syndrome. I don't have a problem with Down Syndrome. I knew a little boy with Down Syndrome in Awanas when I was a kid. I have a problem with my baby having it. Other families have kids with special needs. Just not me. Special people. I'm not special. I don't want to be special.

We had a flood of visitors in the hospital. Word spread I guess, and friends, family and church members came and went constantly. And because Abby had jaundice, we were there for a few days longer than usual. There was a wide range of reactions.

Some people cried. They told me it would be ok. What does that even mean?? We're fine. She's fine. I just had a baby.

Some people tried to identify by telling us about friends they knew who had Down Syndrome or other special needs. That's nice. I don't care about your friend. We aren't them. I just had a baby. Can we talk about HER and how great she's doing? (These are not my most honorable moments and thoughts and I'm not proud of them. But if I'm honest, that's what went through my head at the time.)

Some people told me that I needed to cry. That they were concerned that it wasn't "hitting me yet". To this day, I don't know... I'm not sure if it did or not. Maybe I should have cried more? I was processing. I had no idea how to handle the information I'd been given. I didn't know what life would look like for me or for my little girl. Ever. I just knew that I loved Abby. And that she had just been changed and her next feeding would be in 2 hours. That part was easy and felt right. The rest was completely uncertain. And terrifying.

Some people congratulated us. I'll never forget the friends that came in, elated. All smiles, they would scoop Abby up, tell me how beautiful she was, and congratulate me. It was like a balm for my soul. I soaked it in.

At one point our pastor told Jake something that I'll never forget. He said, "people are going to say dumb things. It's going to happen. Just know that they mean well, they just don't know what to say." That helped me so much. I knew that in my heart, but I needed someone to say it. It gave me a level of grace for people... even if they said something unhelpful, even hurtful, I was able to see through to their hearts and know that they loved us and meant well. And that's what mattered. (That has been so helpful to me over the years.)

One week later, with Abby Grace weighing in at 5 lbs. 1 oz, we left the hospital. They had us go to Vanderbilt first, just to double check her heart. Most kids with DS have heart issues. We knew she didn't, that's one of the reasons she wasn't diagnosed prenatally. Her heart was totally healthy.

When we got home, we took our first deep breath as a family of five. In my mind, I knew life was going to look different. This wasn't going to be an easy road. I'd heard words like therapy, early intervention and specialists. But all of that melted away like butter every time I looked at my sweet baby. She was just a tiny little love nugget. She had that amazing new baby smell. And wispy blond hair, just on top. And smooth skin. And she nursed like a pro. (Which they told me was actually not common.) She's already rocking this thing. We're going to be just fine. They don't know about us. We'll show them.

~~~

I never understood when people would talk about all they "learned" from their family member or friend with special needs. Now I get it. I've learned SO. MUCH. from Abby.

I've learned to treasure today. What's in front of me. Tomorrow or what it holds isn't guaranteed.

I've learned that I'm stronger than I'd ever dreamed.

I've learned that Abby's only limitations are the ones I put on her.

I've learned that together, Jake and I are a powerhouse. God put us together, and the world had better just watch out.

I've learned that's in those places when you're most paralyzed by fear and uncertainty, that's where God takes over. You only have to surrender to Him.

I've learned that Down Syndrome is just a diagnosis. It's a small part of who my daughter is. It affects... almost everything in her life. But it doesn't define her.

Halfway through my pregnancy, I felt the Lord tell me that her name would be Abigail Grace.

Abigail means the Joy of the Father. In the Bible, Abigail was one of the wives of David. The King James Version describes her as having good understanding and a beautiful countenance.

The first two things that the world would try to tell me about DS is that it would affect her appearance and her cognitive ability. God says otherwise. He says she's fearfully and wonderfully made. That He has plans to give her a hope and future. God reminds me every day through her very name, that she has a good understanding and a beautiful countenance. She is the Joy of her Father, on earth and in Heaven.

Today she turns ten. Ten long years since that crazy night. My hopes for the kind of life Abby might lead... the kind of hopes every mother has for her baby... were taken away that night. But the Lord has redeemed them with new hopes and dreams.

Wrapped up in one beautiful little girl,

God taught me that sometimes,

when we can't see what's ahead,

He pulls us close,

replaces our sorrow with pure joy,

and a peace that passes understanding.

It feels silly to me now that I was so upset and afraid of her diagnosis. It's almost embarrassing. But it was so real to me at the time. It's my story, for better or worse. 

Today we have a beautiful, intelligent, kindhearted 10 year old who loves big and enjoys life!

Just like the last, I expect the next 10 years to be full of joy, fear, determination, victories, setbacks, and exploration of the unknown. I expect Abby to dance through life and continue to completely amaze us. And I know that my faithful God will continue to weave His strands of Grace through our story, continuing a good work in us until the day of Christ Jesus.

For you created my inmost being;

    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

14 

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made!

Psalm 139:103-14

To learn more about Down Syndrome, click the tab "Down Syndrome" at the top of my blog. To read more about our life with sweet Abbs, click the link on the sidebar: Parent of kids with DS