Nine years ago, I was very plainly given the suggestion that I should have an abortion. I was 25 years old, siting in the office of a genetic specialist after seeing a four dimensional ultra sound of my third child. One week prior, I had an ultra sound that all expectant parents dread. Its never good when the tech turns off the monitor and leaves to get the Dr. “There are a few issues we need to discuss. ” were the words that seared my brain. I was sent to the genetics specialist to get a better look at the tiny life growing in my not yet showing belly. After having two healthy children, my third child had a unilateral cleft lip, a calcium spot that took up almost the entire left ventricle of his heart and hydronephrosis of the right kidney. All of these problems with the pregnancy were visible at thirteen weeks gestation.

After clearly viewing all of the abnormalities that this child was developing with, we sat down with the Dr. and this person asked. ” So what would you like to do with this pregnancy”? “You are young, you have been blessed with two healthy children and you are young enough to start over”, this was what the specialist had proposed. ” I’m having this baby.” I said. ” I would have this baby if he had two heads.” I told the Doctor. ” Well, I need to inform you that a child with this many anomalies usually has severe birth defects and long term care will be something you need to be prepared for. You are young. Please take time and consider your options.” The Doctor explained and I left the office devastated. Apparently finding out that the baby had anomalies in the first trimester, left me a window to reconsider.

Looking back, after getting over the initial shock of what I had been told, I could not believe that it had even been suggested that I ” terminate” or abort my child. I went back to my OBGYN, who had delivered my other two children, and cried with her. ” We will do our best for the both of you since you are committed to this pregnancy.” I was committed to the pregnancy. What was to follow were numerous ultrasounds, every one more painful than the last, visits with surgeons and genetic specialists. Preparations for the arrival of a severely disabled child were being made by the fourth month of my pregnancy. I refused the amniocentesis and AFP test for Down’s Syndrome knowing the result would not change my decision. I went home and did the worst thing any expectant parent could do, I googled his diagnosis. I found pictures of babies with severe facial abnormalities, read about the chances of heart defects and Down’s Syndrome related to the heart abnormality and Hydronephrosis which I was familiar with, but not in the prenatal state. With a medical background, I began to do my home work when the initial shock had passed and found that all of these symptoms may at times result in trisomy 18, a severe form of Down’s syndrome, or nothing at all. All projecting and planning did nothing to ease my mind.

This baby was a jokester in the womb. I had to leave an ultrasound and come back later because this baby would not give us a clear view of his face, heart or his kidney, he loved to show us his rear end. He flipped every time the wand would try to focus in on his heart and severely swollen kidney. By all accounts this baby was growing normally. Normal brain size, normal limb length and no nuchal fold in the back of his neck all signs pointing to chromosomal abnormalities. I saw the cardiac specialist at 30 weeks because the deposit in his heart was not shrinking. I was tired. I had a 3 and 1 yr old at home. I couldn’t take one more ultra sound. I went home after that visit and began to fracture. For so long I had held it together. My dreams of life for this child tarnished. I blamed myself. Was it something I did wrong early in the pregnancy? Did I not take enough vitamins? Eat something I shouldn’t have? How could I give life to a child who’s life would be from the start, a challenge? I broke. I broke down and screamed at God. Why? Why did you give me him when I have two young children already? He was not a planned pregnancy. Why would you put me through this. I can’t do this. I told God. I just can’t. Either take this baby or fix him, because I just can’t do it.

Between 30 weeks and 35 weeks there was a lull. No ultra sounds, no Dr visits except for scheduled ones. I went in for an ultrasound at 36 weeks and his kidney was extremely large. He was not draining urine and was at risk of, at the least reflux at the worst sepsis. The option was put out there to either deliver him preterm or undergo surgery. We opted for the delivery. An amnio was done at 36 weeks to test his lungs for maturity. During this ultrasound an amazing thing happened. He was out of room on my belly and all of his abnormalities were clear. We watched the screen as the wand searched for room for the needle to be inserted. We saw his heart. Four clear, beautiful beating chambers. We saw his face, where there was a black hole they was gray tissue. His kidney, still enlarged, became the priority. ” We will prepare for the worst and hope for the best “, were the words of my Dr. as we prepared to have him a few days later.

I was induced at 37 weeks on January 2nd . Labor was going as expected until something changed. After my water was broken, bells and alarms went off as his chord had prolapsed and fell over his head. Both he and I were in surgery with in minutes, I knocked out completely, and he being pulled into life as fast as they could get him out. Brady was born at 2: 35 pm on a Thursday. With the NICU ready for a premature baby, he was a hefty 7 pounds at 37 weeks. He was perfect. His apgar tests were normal. He responded like every infant does. He was started on antibiotics from birth to prevent kidney infection. He had a severe unilateral cleft but with the presence of gum tissue and bone where there once was no tissue present, he was able to nurse. Cardiac test revealed a healthy heart. From two weeks until six months we would spend the majority of his life at Children’s Hospital Boston having tests done and surgeries. By the time he was seven months he had undergone two surgeries on his face and one on his kidney. By eight months he was crawling around the house after his brother and sister and he took his first steps on his first birthday.

Brady turned eight a few weeks ago. Sometimes I forget what a miracle he really is especially when he is getting into trouble. But occasionally I remember that day, still so clearly in my my mind when the Dr. very casually said, you can start over, you’re young. I thank God for every minute I have with Brady T. Smith my sweet, amazing, smart little boy. I don’t regret for a second the decision I made to choose life for this child. Brady, You are beautifully and wonderfully made.

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Watch/Listen: CLICK HERE 1. We already know how Obama feels about abortion… (He’s the only member of federally elected office in the history of our nation to vote in favor of letting a child die of starvation outside the womb, call it abortion, and argue the practice should continue.) The question becomes for Obama supporters, [...]