December 2022
Alabama

My OB called with results indicating that we were having a girl, and that there was an 87% chance that she had Down Syndrome. I said a silent prayer; please, please let them be wrong, let me keep her. An ultrasound a few weeks later seemed to confirm that the diagnosis was accurate. There was evidence of a heart defect. There was a mass on the abdomen that appeared to be some sort of lymphatic tumor. Prior to the Dobbs decision, this constellation of findings would have been considered “life-limiting” and would have made me eligible for a termination of pregnancy due to medical reasons. Post-Dobbs, none of these conditions on its own merited termination, but the combination of symptoms made it extremely unlikely that the fetus would survive to term. Even if she were to survive, the baby’s life would likely be short, painful, and punctuated by multiple corrective surgeries.

After a tearful phone call with my husband I filled out paperwork to have the pregnancy terminated. I wanted to pursue termination because that seemed kinder to the baby and to my mental health than continuing the pregnancy. The doctor explained that terminations of this kind had to be approved by various committees, all made up of partner doctors. Given the severity of the symptoms, she anticipated committee approval. Every day I had constant reminders of her presence as I felt her kick.

The doctor called a few days later to say that while my case had been approved by one committee, the higher level committee had denied permission to terminate. She formed her sentences very slowly and carefully, as if she was struggling to maintain dispassion. She told me that it was the hardest phone call she had made in her professional career. The committee felt that since each condition was by itself potentially survivable, that under Alabama law they did not think that my case met the criteria for termination. My doctor felt that the other committee members were acting out of fear of being prosecuted. The state’s District Attorney was actively attempting to prosecute doctors that performed “elective” abortions as felons. I sat in my car and sobbed because it felt like there was no light at the end of the tunnel. Whenever the baby would kick, I would tell her how much I loved her and wished I could be her mom.

I was counseled to seek a second opinion out of state. A hospital in Virgina took my case and scheduled termination for Jan. 31, but due to a scheduling mix-up my appointment slot was given to another patient and I was rescheduled for the next week. I was prescribed antibiotics, painkillers, and anti-anxiety medication for the termination appointment. I chose induction, and I elected to have the baby buried with other fetal remains free of charge by a Richmond funeral home. It was a difficult choice because now her body would be buried out of state, and not somewhere I could spontaneously visit.

I was 19 weeks, 5 days pregnant when my parents drove me to Richmond. My husband stayed behind with my daughter to try to maintain as much of a normal routine for her as possible. The next morning, a Virginia doctor gave me an injection to end the pregnancy. She told me that she firmly believed ending the pregnancy was the most loving thing we could do for our baby. She said the injection would take effect slowly and that I would likely still feel some movement from the baby for the rest of the day, but I never felt her again. When contractions started I got an epidural, and delivered my second child shortly before midnight. The nurses went through the same process of cleaning, weighing and measuring the baby as they would have with a live birth. They brought her to me to hold. I really appreciated that they treated me like a new mom, and her like a baby, not a corpse. My second daughter was born at 11:57 pm, 10 inches, 12.4 ounces.

I was discharged with mementos and grief resources, and my parents drove me home to Tuscaloosa and my family. My daughter was asleep when I got home, but I couldn¡¯t bring myself to look in on her for hours. I think it felt like a betrayal of the love and grief I had been feeling for the child I had just left behind.

The Richmond funeral home that took possession of our baby¡¯s remains holds a no-cost memorial service every 6 weeks for all the babies they receive who were miscarried, stillborn, terminated, or lived for fewer than 24 hours. There were about 75 other babies buried with our daughter. They wouldn¡¯t do a live stream of the service for me, but they mailed me a copy of the program and a plush toy they give to grieving mothers.