Layla

Pregnancy is supposed to be this beautiful thing, from the positive pregnancy test, seeing baby on ultrasound (or babies), little baby kicks, and finally the birth of your child. It’s a time of joy for most moms to be (and dads). No one and nothing preps you for never feeling those kicks, dreading seeing your baby on ultrasound, and never bringing home your child from a birth that wasn’t so perfect.

My name is Kiah, and this is my not so perfect pregnancy story.

In January of 2018, me and my husband decided it was time to add to our family and started trying that month, it was about 7-8 days after trying that I felt a little off and thought I’d test knowing I’d get a negative because I’ve never tested positive this early before! Boy was I wrong. That second line popped up, and at that moment our family grew by one. Weeks past and I felt totally normal but at the same time felt like something was off but wasn’t complaining because I had such a hard pregnancy with my son I was just enjoying this easy ride. At 12 weeks I had my first scan and felt so happy to see a healthy beautiful baby kicking away. Blood work was done pictures were printed and we were sent on our way. That night I got a call asking me to come back next week since baby was measuring small, no big deal maybe this baby was just a little peanut and needed a little extra time to grow.

Before our next appointment I got a call letting us know that our baby came back high for Trisomy 13 or 18, both life limiting chromosomes abnormalities and more ultrasounds and blood work needs to be done. I felt like my world was falling apart. How is this happening to me? I'm young, and healthy—it just didn’t make sense. The next two ultrasounds took forever, but to me nothing looked abnormal. Just a happy baby bouncing away in there.

We got more blood work done and it came back NEGATIVE! At this time I was 18 weeks and felt like God had answered my prayers and the world made sense again. That week we went and bought two outfits to bring our sweet baby GIRL home in (we found out the gender earlier at 16 weeks) and I finally felt like I could start bonding with my daughter just look forward to the baby kicks that would be coming. Not even four days later we got a call letting us know not all was well and that my daughter was extremely sick. She had HPE, CHD, only one kidney and had stop growing at 16 weeks. I didn’t know what to do. Every appointment more and more bad news came, she wasn’t growing, her fingers weren’t all there, she had a clubbed foot, her cord flow was getting worse, the fluid was going. I literally thought each day with my daughter was the last. I honestly don’t think I ever felt her kick, there were at least five times that I thought I felt her kick but it was so hard to tell since she was so small. We drove hours twice a week to check on my daughter, spent hour in doctor's offices crying and feeling hopeless. My daughter was dying and I was being told there was nothing anyone could do.

On July the 6th, we were sent home to wait for my daughter to die after begging for them to save my daughters life. Nothing could be done—she was too sick and too small. I’d give my life for her to be here even for a second but that’s not logical as hard as it is to admit that. A few days later we had family fly down as it was a matter of days until Layla would go to sleep forever.

July 11th, everyone was here and I feel like she knew that. I wish I hadn’t woken up that next morning, because when I checked for her heartbeat I couldn’t find it. We got ready and left for the hospital and I had so much hope that she wasn’t gone. It wasn’t till those cold heavy words hit my ears that it all came crashing down on me, there is no heartbeat. I’m sorry. I’m sorry is all anyone could say. I mean what else can anyone say?

We got moved into our own room a leaf with a tear drop was placed on our door to let others know we wouldn’t be bringing home our child and to give us our space and not enter during that time. I hated every second of being there, when it was finally time to push I felt like I was in this nightmare, and I knew that once she was born we would no longer be one and I’d have to send her off to be without me to keep her safe. She looked so sick when she was finally here. I felt like a monster for wanting her born alive because at that moment I knew that she would have suffered.

I can now look at her photos and see how truly beautiful she is and I love every part of her, I’m happy I was with her when she passed away, she was in the only place she new and felt no pain and that’s all I could ask for, is for her to know nothing but love and peace. Layla Quinn Packard was born at 28 weeks, one day on July 13, 2018 early in the morning, weighing 14 oz and was 11 inches long. Triploidy is the rare genetic disorder that took her life? She had 69 chromosomes and they make her more beautiful and special to me.

I talk with her everyday, but I still hurt and cry and the pain seems to be growing but I know I’m not alone and there will soon me light at the end of this dark path I’m on.

Layla

A mother’s love is never ending.

The Daughter I Wish I Had

Layla