DSNO - Prenatal Testing Gave Me Time to Adjust

Prenatal Testing Gave Me Time to Adjust
by Rachel Perry

August 2006

As a Catholic and a mother, prenatal testing for birth defects always seemed unnecessary to me. I would never abort my child after all, so what was the point?

But as a mother of two boys, when we found out I was pregnant -- a blessing after losing a baby and half my fertility to an ectopic pregnancy in 2002 -- there was one test that I wanted to take. I had to know if I was going to finally be allowed to go on a pink buying frenzy for a little girl.

Amidst the excitement of being newly pregnant and my hopes and desires for a little girl, I took something called a ‘quad’ test which gauged probability of serious birth defects -- a test which the doctor pressed on me due to my ‘advanced’ age of 35. The result showed that several defects were ruled out, but the chance of my baby having Down syndrome had gone up from one in 240 to an alarming one in 120. Not so bad, I told myself, less than one percent.

I had always said that I would never jeopardize my baby, so I was against an amniocentisis, but there was a level II ultrasound that was available which might help rule out Downs. It was so detailed that it could also provide information about the sex of the baby a couple of weeks earlier than the normal ultrasound, so I jumped at it.

My first shock was finding out that there would be no pink buying frenzy. A third boy would be joining our family. My husband and I were reeling from the news when there was more. There were what are called ‘soft markers’ which indicated our little boy’s chance of having Downs had been upgraded -- from one in 120 to one in 10.

I immediately asked for an amniocentisis. To say that this was a surprise to both myself and my husband is an understatment. An invasive test like amnioscentisis can put a baby at risk, something I never wanted to do. But I had to know. I couldn’t live with those odds for the next five months -- I just knew I would torture myself trying to settle my feelings.

Someone told me after the test -- during the ten day wait before we got the definitive results -- that sometimes beliefs will change when confronted by circumstances. It was like that.

The next ten days were horrible. My husband and I spent hours discussing the prospect of our baby having Downs.

I felt that my faith was being tested. It was one thing to say I would never abort my child, but another to be faced with having a disabled child -- something I didn’t want. This was a departure from how I had always believed I would feel.

My husband had always believed that a fetus was really just the possibilty for life rather than alive until it was viable outside of the mother and as such, could be aborted with no moral qualms. But during the amnioscentisis, he had felt fear for our baby -- seen him as a person, and not just the possibility of life.

When the result came back it was as we had feared -- a positive result for Trisomy 21, Down syndrome. I wish I could say that our decision to continue with the pregnancy was due to my belief that everything would be okay -- but it wasn’t. It was instead a belief that despite all the difficulties associated with Downs, there was no way to be sure that our baby wouldn’t have a happy life. Fear of the future was defeated by it's possibilities.

Over the next few months my husband and I went through a grieving process -- adjusting to what had happened and what was to come. It was a difficult time, probably one of our darkest, surrounded by all the dire possibilities of Downs with none of the rewards of an actual child.

My bump was beginning to show and I found it very difficult when people would smile and ask about the baby. At first I didn't know what to say – I felt very negative about something that was supposed to be positive. I became a recluse, avoiding eye contact when I had to go out.

In my previous pregnancies I had had the experiences of those around me to help, but this was new. No one around me really had any experience with Downs, and I realised I’d have to look outside of my family and friends to find the information I needed. So I reached out for support from the online community of mothers with Down syndrome children.(www.babycenter.com) Far from telling me I shouldn’t feel negative, they encouraged me to work through my negative emotions, not to deny them. They kept telling me that it wasn't just going to be fine, it was going to be great.

Gradually I began to look less into the future and instead lived in the moment. And I began to look forward to meeting him.

We named him, Nathan, which means "gift from God," so he would start to be more of a person to us and not just a diagnosis. We also told our two older boys, Zachary 10 yrs and Brett 6 yrs, about their baby brother having Downs. They seemed to take it in stride. A few days later when I was picking Brett up from kindergarten his teacher told me that Brett had shared with the class that his baby brother was going to have Down syndrome, that this meant Nathan would need extra love and patience and that he couldn't wait to be a big brother.

It was a relief to meet Nathan, arms outstretched as he entered the world. He was here and I loved him. I reached down for him, welcoming him, and prayed the world would be kind. He looked at my husband and I in those first few moments and we felt he was happy to be here, that he had completed his first mission.

I am happy that I had the prenatal testing done. Had a Down syndrome boy been placed on my belly after delivery, when I was eagerly awaiting my daughter, I know I would have rejected him. And the guilt from that would probably have killed me. But knowing what was coming gave me the time that I needed -- time to adjust."


	Prenatal Testing Gave Me Time to Adjust by Rachel Perry August 2006 As a Catholic and a mother, prenatal testing for birth defects always seemed unnecessary to me. I would never abort my child after all, so what was the point? But as a mother of two boys, when we found out I was pregnant -- a blessing after losing a baby and half my fertility to an ectopic pregnancy in 2002 -- there was one test that I wanted to take. I had to know if I was going to finally be allowed to go on a pink buying frenzy for a little girl. Amidst the excitement of being newly pregnant and my hopes and desires for a little girl, I took something called a ‘quad’ test which gauged probability of serious birth defects -- a test which the doctor pressed on me due to my ‘advanced’ age of 35. The result showed that several defects were ruled out, but the chance of my baby having Down syndrome had gone up from one in 240 to an alarming one in 120. Not so bad, I told myself, less than one percent. I had always said that I would never jeopardize my baby, so I was against an amniocentisis, but there was a level II ultrasound that was available which might help rule out Downs. It was so detailed that it could also provide information about the sex of the baby a couple of weeks earlier than the normal ultrasound, so I jumped at it. My first shock was finding out that there would be no pink buying frenzy. A third boy would be joining our family. My husband and I were reeling from the news when there was more. There were what are called ‘soft markers’ which indicated our little boy’s chance of having Downs had been upgraded -- from one in 120 to one in 10. I immediately asked for an amniocentisis. To say that this was a surprise to both myself and my husband is an understatment. An invasive test like amnioscentisis can put a baby at risk, something I never wanted to do. But I had to know. I couldn’t live with those odds for the next five months -- I just knew I would torture myself trying to settle my feelings. Someone told me after the test -- during the ten day wait before we got the definitive results -- that sometimes beliefs will change when confronted by circumstances. It was like that. The next ten days were horrible. My husband and I spent hours discussing the prospect of our baby having Downs. I felt that my faith was being tested. It was one thing to say I would never abort my child, but another to be faced with having a disabled child -- something I didn’t want. This was a departure from how I had always believed I would feel. My husband had always believed that a fetus was really just the possibilty for life rather than alive until it was viable outside of the mother and as such, could be aborted with no moral qualms. But during the amnioscentisis, he had felt fear for our baby -- seen him as a person, and not just the possibility of life. When the result came back it was as we had feared -- a positive result for Trisomy 21, Down syndrome. I wish I could say that our decision to continue with the pregnancy was due to my belief that everything would be okay -- but it wasn’t. It was instead a belief that despite all the difficulties associated with Downs, there was no way to be sure that our baby wouldn’t have a happy life. Fear of the future was defeated by it's possibilities. Over the next few months my husband and I went through a grieving process -- adjusting to what had happened and what was to come. It was a difficult time, probably one of our darkest, surrounded by all the dire possibilities of Downs with none of the rewards of an actual child. My bump was beginning to show and I found it very difficult when people would smile and ask about the baby. At first I didn't know what to say – I felt very negative about something that was supposed to be positive. I became a recluse, avoiding eye contact when I had to go out. In my previous pregnancies I had had the experiences of those around me to help, but this was new. No one around me really had any experience with Downs, and I realised I’d have to look outside of my family and friends to find the information I needed. So I reached out for support from the online community of mothers with Down syndrome children.(www.babycenter.com) Far from telling me I shouldn’t feel negative, they encouraged me to work through my negative emotions, not to deny them. They kept telling me that it wasn't just going to be fine, it was going to be great. Gradually I began to look less into the future and instead lived in the moment. And I began to look forward to meeting him. We named him, Nathan, which means "gift from God," so he would start to be more of a person to us and not just a diagnosis. We also told our two older boys, Zachary 10 yrs and Brett 6 yrs, about their baby brother having Downs. They seemed to take it in stride. A few days later when I was picking Brett up from kindergarten his teacher told me that Brett had shared with the class that his baby brother was going to have Down syndrome, that this meant Nathan would need extra love and patience and that he couldn't wait to be a big brother. It was a relief to meet Nathan, arms outstretched as he entered the world. He was here and I loved him. I reached down for him, welcoming him, and prayed the world would be kind. He looked at my husband and I in those first few moments and we felt he was happy to be here, that he had completed his first mission. I am happy that I had the prenatal testing done. Had a Down syndrome boy been placed on my belly after delivery, when I was eagerly awaiting my daughter, I know I would have rejected him. And the guilt from that would probably have killed me. But knowing what was coming gave me the time that I needed -- time to adjust."
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