September 1, 2014. After trying for a year, we found out the best news of our lives, we were pregnant! Even though I was about to go on an amazing trip to Europe within 24 hours, I was somewhat saddened that I wasn’t going to be able to celebrate over the next few weeks with my husband Evan, who had to stay home for work. However, I knew I would be home before I knew it. We were so excited though and stayed positive knowing that I would soon be traveling with our little growing baby.

Six weeks pregnant, I headed to the palace of Versailles for the day, and was sicker than ever! I was experiencing the worst kind of “morning sickness” that I had ever heard of. I power walked and carb loaded my way through Paris for the last few days of my Euro trip, still feeling excited as ever to be pregnant. The flight home was rough. I felt like Iago, the bird from Aladdin, as I stuffed cracker after cracker into my mouth during the 10 hour flight home to San Diego.

I thought it would be special to have our first ultrasound appointment scheduled on Evan’s birthday, October 7. As excited first time parents, to be there at the doctors office together experiencing this life changing event, felt like a dream. The sonogram began and within 15 seconds we hear, “twins!” 30 seconds later, we hear “oh wait, I only see one heart beat.” We didn’t know how to feel. It was bitter sweet. We cried and prayed a lot over the next two days. Our doctor told us that sometimes it’s too early to detect a heartbeat especially with twins at 8 weeks. We knew that whatever was supposed to happen, would happen, and hoped for the best. One week later we met with our doctor. He told us there was definitely no heartbeat and growth in one twin, but there was still a second very healthy growing baby. Our doctor explained, “1 in 5 pregnancies end in miscarriage typically because something is not right with the baby. Your body detected that something was not right and stopped growing that baby for some unknown reason. Abbey, your body did a good job of detecting this.” We were comforted by his encouraging words and felt a wave of relief. I wasn’t sad for one more minute after that day because I was so grateful that we still had one healthy baby.

Over the next two months we had appointments weekly to be closely monitored because of the baby that stopped growing. I would have to continue to carry it until my due date on May 15, 2015. At our 13 week appointment, we heard and saw our baby’s strong heartbeat. We were told by our doctor that everything looked great and we should enjoy this growing baby. I still had nervous feelings, as I think every first time pregnant woman has. Despite that, we continued to bond and love this baby. By 14 weeks, I no longer had morning sickness and was finally feeling like myself again. Life was perfect.

December 19^th and 19 weeks pregnant, our “big” ultrasound day was here. Our previous plan was to keep the gender a surprise and not find out what we were having until the baby arrived but Evan was just too excited. He wondered if we could ask the technician to put the gender in an envelope so we could place it under our Christmas tree and open it on Christmas morning. I didn’t want to deprive him of any experience he wanted during this pregnancy so without hesitation said, “of course”. We drove to a special office where they had the best ultrasound machine. At first our technician was polite and talkative, but as the hour progressed she got quieter and shorter with us as we tried to ask questions. After 56 minutes she abruptly ended our appointment and explained “I couldn’t get a lot of measurements. We will need you to come back in a week to re-measure.” She quickly walked us out. It seemed a bit strange but we went along with it and went home. Over the next few days something just didn’t sit right with me. I called my doctor on Monday, December 22^nd and explained what had happened. He told me that he thought it was a bit strange that she wasn’t able to record all the measurements of the baby and give us the gender. He told me that it was possible the machine wasn’t working right that day but also thought it was more strange that she wasn’t able to give us the gender. Wanting to help us out, he scheduled an appointment for me to be seen after Christmas but wanted to make sure I had the gender before December 25^th. He called the specialist. They pulled some strings and had me scheduled for an appointment in two days on Christmas Eve.

I decided to go alone and keep it from Evan, knowing that I would be able to give him the biggest surprise of his life the next day on Christmas morning. I felt a little guilty, but was confident I was going to get “wife of the year” for pulling this off. As the sonogram started, I started conversation with the technician. She explained that the hour long appointment would be over before I knew it. “Wait, what? An hour? Aren’t you just going to find out the gender, stick it in an envelope, tell me “Merry Christmas” and send me on my way?” I said. She explained that they were prepared for a full appointment that was going to be filled with measurements of the baby. I felt terrible that Evan wasn’t there with me, but even worse an hour later when the testing was complete. When the testing was over, they moved me to a small quiet room. The specialist walked in and gave me the tightest hug of my life. My heart sank and I went numb. I knew something was terribly wrong. I quickly went into survival mode asking a million and one questions; “What’s wrong? What’s happening? Please be honest with me and don’t sugar coat it. I can handle anything.” She was honest with me and explained that there are a lot of abnormalities with the baby. My numb feeling began to quickly wear off as I suddenly went from “wife of the year”, to the “most horrible spouse ever”, for not telling my husband about the appointment beforehand. I asked the doctor to go through each and every abnormality with me. She went over the big ones with me: abnormalities in the brain, heart, spine, umbilical cord, bent fingers and hands, etc. She stopped and said there were too many to discuss with me as she handed me a warm, freshly printed paper with the terribly long list of abnormalities. She said that it carried many of the characteristics of the chromosomal abnormality, Trisomy 18, but wouldn’t know for sure until I went through the amniocentesis testing. Trisomy 18 is lethal, and not compatible with life. Still in survival mode, which looking back felt more like denial, I quickly responded, “Heart surgery. We can do heart surgery! Physical and speech therapy. I’m up for that! Wheel chairs. No biggie, we can get this kid a wheelchair. My cousin Amanda has had the coolest wheelchairs!” She fought off my assault of questions and thoughts. She hugged me again, told me to go home, discuss things with my husband and come back in a week for the amnio testing.

I was numb. I couldn’t cry. I could barely breath or think. I said a prayer and asked God to help me stay numb for a little longer. The thought of having to deal with this was unbearable. I called Evan and told him everything while feeling a tornado of emotions and trying to remember all the unfamiliar terms. Impulsively, I drove out to El Centro where Evan works for the Department of Homeland Security, an hour and a half away to pick him up. I saw him and was finally able to cry and let it all out. We cried the whole way home. We drove down to our boat to fill it up with gas for some fishing trips that Evan was going to have the days after Christmas. At the time, we thought it was a huge inconvenience but once we hit San Diego Bay, saw the beautiful Sunset and no boats around, we knew it was the best thing for us at that moment. We cried and said more “I love you’s” to one another than there are on Valentines Day in the whole world combined. We opened the envelope that revealed the gender of our sweet baby, “It’s a girl” it read on a green post it. What was supposed to be the happiest moment of our lives suddenly became the worst. It was Christmas Eve, we were one of just 2 boats on the bay, and we cried. A lot.

Christmas morning we were alone as previously planned. I made a huge Christmas breakfast for two because it was the only thing I could do to keep my mind occupied. We barely ate as we cried and hugged the entire day in Christmas pajamas. I tried to be strong for Evan but knew it was only a matter of time before I would shortly burst again.

Friday and Saturday, the days following Christmas, Evan had days off from his regular job to work two fishing charters for his side business. I wasn’t scared to be alone because I knew I wouldn’t be alone. My plan was to pray like I had never prayed before and research the heck out of this foreign and life altering term, Trisomy 18. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions but I had to weigh all my options and keep myself informed of the various possibilities. From miscarriage to still born, from living for 1 hour to living 1 month, I read it all. Here is what I learned:

•  Trisomy 18 results from having three copies of chromosome 18 in each cell in the body instead of the usual two copies.
• 90% of Trisomy babies don’t survive pregnancy.
• Of the 10% that make it to birth, half of all infants with this condition do not survive beyond the first week of life, and the rest die in the first year.

During those two days, I had read a lot of scriptures and conference talks about mercy, grace and eternal families. I read a wonderful experience about another mother who had a baby named Allegra that also had Trisomy 18. Her story can be seen HERE.  Hours upon hours of research and prayers, my knees were tired, my face hurt and my eyes looked like I had just eaten two buckets of popcorn from the movie theaters the night before. I was exhausted. But at the same time I felt peace. I had some very sacred spiritual experiences within those two days including a dream about our little girl helping me through the temple. I felt protected and had received so much strength from my Heavenly Father.

The following two weeks we kept our entire experience to ourselves. Sunday, just four days after finding all of this out, was an especially difficult day for Evan and I. We sat in church and witnessed two beautiful newborns being blessed by their fathers. I tried to give Evan all my strength and comfort and we cried through their prayers. I felt so close to him and wanted to take his pain away but knew I couldn’t. We knew the only way we could get through this was with help from our Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost.

On New Years Eve, we went back into the specialist’s office to have the amniocentesis. I previously had conflicting feelings about this procedure because I knew second-trimester amniocentesis carries a slight risk of complications — between 1 in 600. The reason we had to do this was to plan. We had to figure out if we needed to prepare for a handicapped child or a funeral. We still took the risk knowing that it was in God’s hands. The next few days were some of the best we had since before this trial was given to us. Since I was on bed rest from the procedure, Evan and I talked and bonded for days. We felt comfort and reassurance from our Heavenly Father that we would be blessed to have this little baby girl be a part of our family, not just in mortality, but forever.

On Friday, January 9^th we got the call from our doctor and received the news, “It’s Trisomy 18” he said. He continued to explain that this was an isolated incident, and that in no way would this effect pregnancy in the future. I immediately felt peace throughout my entire body. I felt relieved and calm. I knew that everything would be ok. We went over all of our options, from hopes that things would quickly terminate naturally, to avoiding making difficult decisions, preparing for hospice, a funeral and on and on. We previously spent time pondering the Church’s position on abortion. Because Trisomy 18 is not compatible with life, we knew that this could potentially be an option. Ultimately however, we decided terminating the pregnancy was NOT an option for us.

I have a tremendous amount of faith and trust in Heavenly Father. I know that everything happens for a reason. I know he has a plan for us. In a lot of ways I feel honored to give this little girl a body, and have her be a part of our lives forever. Whether it is for a short time or shorter time, we want to enjoy this sweet little gift and celebrate her life starting now. Our hopes and dreams for her are the same, just shortened and sweetened, as we know that our time with her will not be long. I’m crying as I type this. Not because I am sad, but because I know that families are forever. When Evan and I were sealed in the San Diego Temple in 2008, we were told that children born unto us were born into the covenant, and would be sealed to us for time and all eternity. I am so grateful that we are a forever family and will all live together again someday. I can’t wait for the day to know her and care for her even if it’s just for one minute.