'SHE WAS OUR DAUGHTER BEFORE SHE WAS BORN'

Vicky Wall

On Sunday 21 June, the Catholic Church across Ireland, Scotland, England and Wales, jointly celebrated the annual Day for Life, a day dedicated to raising awareness of the meaning and value of human life at every stage and in every condition. This year’s message reflects on the theme of The Humanity of the Unborn Child by recognising the experience of families whose babies die before or shortly after birth.  As someone who has lived that reality, I know well that behind every diagnosis and every loss is a child who is deeply loved and a family whose lives are changed forever.

This is our story.

Near the end of my pregnancy, Líadán’s movements had started to slow down.  We knew she had a life-limiting condition, so every kick and every movement became precious.

There was one thing that always seemed to get Líadán moving, and it was cake.  I often joked that she had a sweet tooth!  One day, after she had been unusually quiet, I made myself a cup of tea and had a slice of cake, hoping to feel her move. A little while later, she gave one big, strong kick. I remember wrapping my arms around my bump, hugging her as best I could, and whispering, “Come on, sweetheart, you hang in there.  You’ve got this.”

It was the last kick I ever felt. The next day, we learned that Líadán had died. When I think about the humanity of the unborn child, I do not think first about diagnoses or statistics.  I think about my daughter.

When I was twenty-three weeks pregnant, we were told that Líadán had Trisomy 18, a life-limiting condition.  We were told she might not survive to birth and that, if she did, her life would likely be very short. But one point that never changed, that remained constant, was that Líadán was our daughter.

We gave Líadán her name.  We talked to her, sang to her and loved her long before we ever held her in our arms.  Like so many parents who receive a devastating prenatal diagnosis, our relationship with our child did not begin at birth.  It began long before that.

Parents know instinctively that the child they are carrying is far more than a diagnosis.  They celebrate every movement, worry when they are quiet and love them long before they ever hold them in their arms.

That is why the loss of a baby before birth is so profound. We grieve because we have loved.

Líadán was born sleeping at thirty-two weeks.  We did not get the future we had imagined for her.  We did not hear her laugh or watch her grow.  But we did get to meet her.  We held her, kissed her and loved her with everything we had.

Líadán remains our daughter today, just as she was then.

Last Sunday was also Father’s Day, it is timely and important to acknowledge fathers too.

When a baby receives a life-limiting diagnosis, fathers often carry an impossible weight.  Through my work with Every Life Counts, I have met many whose love for their children is deep and unwavering.  I have watched them treasure every scan, celebrate every kick, make memories in whatever time they have and grieve long after others have moved on. They are fathers still.

Over the years, I have had the privilege of walking alongside hundreds of families whose babies have received life-limiting diagnoses.  Every story is different, but there is one thing that unites them all love.

These families have taught me that the value of a life is not measured by its length.  A baby’s worth is not determined by a diagnosis or the number of days they live.  Every child changes the lives of those who love them.

Our support organisation is not about one baby or one family.  It is about hundreds of children whose lives, however short, have left an enduring mark on the world, and the parents, siblings and grandparents who continue to speak their names, celebrate their birthdays and carry them in their hearts.

I still think about that final kick after the tea and cake.  I still remember instinctively wrapping my arms around my bump and whispering, “You hang in there.  You’ve got this.” I didn’t know then that it would be the last time I would feel Líadán move. But I have never doubted who she was. Líadán was our daughter before she was born, and she is our daughter still.

Because of Líadán, I have had the privilege of meeting so many other remarkable babies and the families who love them.  Every one of those children has a name.  Everyone has a story.  Everyone has changed the people who knew and loved them.

Every Life Counts provides an environment where babies are remembered, where parents are understood and where love is never measured by the length of a life. Every parent who has loved and lost a baby knows this truth.

We grieve because we have loved.

To Find out more information about 'Every Life Counts', click on their website below:

Every Life Counts