How much is a little girl worth? Evangeline's birth story.

Who knew we could experience such joy and such sorrow in just 24 hours.

We arrived at Tauranga hospital on Tuesday 2^nd of January, ready to be induced via a balloon method. The doctor arrived and decided that that was the moment to tell me that being induced with the balloon method probably wouldn’t work on me, given that it was my first pregnancy. They would then need to use a stronger method which would bring on strong fast contractions and most likely put Evangeline’s heart into distress. I’d then have to decide to continue with labor unmonitored or be open to an emergency C-section (which is higher risk). Or alternatively just elect for a planned caesarean 

We ended up choosing a planned caesarean which was booked for the following day. I had spent weeks prior wrestling with the idea of a caesarean. As someone who fears having a blood test done because of my strong aversions to needles, you can only imagine how terrified I was of a caesarean and giant epidural needle. Fortunately, I had many people both online in my support group and people I know personally, who have been through caesareans, reassure me that it was not so bad. I knew once it became our choice that I had already been mentally preparing for a caesarean. There is something about a mother’s heart that makes you braver because our love for our kids outweighs our fears. I didn’t carry her for 34 weeks only to give up on her at the last minute and I knew that the best chance of meeting our daughter was to have a planned caesarean. 

The next day we arrived only knowing my cesarean was probably going to be around midday. The day before I was anxious but, on the morning of the 3^rd of January, I had a peace that didn’t make sense. I knew this was because so many people were praying for us. There was still the fear in the back of my mind, but it was mostly overridden by peace. Mentally I knew I could get through it and I felt confident that she would at least be born alive. To our surprise we ended up having everything happen a lot sooner.  At 10am all the people who were to be involved in my caesarean started prepping me for what was to happen, half an hour later it was time to head into surgery. I was able to play my worship playlist in the theater room. The first song that came on was “You make me brave”. God often speaks to me through songs. It felt like God was the DJ playing all the songs that minister to my heart, while I went through an experience where I literally had no control. I could not move or feel anything from my ribs down. After making sure the epidural had done its job it was time to get Evangeline out of my womb.

Once the surgery began, only about 10 minutes had passed when suddenly I heard “She’s out”. My heart starting racing and I instantly asked, “is she okay, is she breathing” and received a vague reassurance “she looks okay.” Then my daughter who had grown inside me for 8 months was placed on my chest. At first, she was not really moving, and my mind wondered if she was even alive. She suddenly let out the cutest little cry, I have ever heard, and I breathed a sigh of relief and my anxiety was replaced with joy. I began to take in all her features, her tiny little frame, all her light brown hair and fair features, her tiny hands and feet and long skinny legs which she liked to bring up to her head just like she did in every ultrasound I had. I could not believe how little she was. I remember thinking she doesn’t look how I was made to think she would look. I was told she would probably be blue in color and have deformed feet and hands, a short nose etc. Her color was pinkish which I knew was a sign of life, and as far as I was concerned, her features were beautiful and if anything, she just looked like a premature baby. I thought “maybe they were wrong about you”. Then the sweetest moment happened I said to her “Hello darling” Evangeline instantly responded to my voice by opening her eyes wide and trying to lift her head before letting out another cry. I felt at that moment that she knew me and my heart burst with love for this sweet little girl that we had made and who I grew in my belly. 

 

My body then decided it had been through enough and needed to puke which was Ryan’s cue for cuddles. Once they stopped my puking with anti-nausea medicine (sorry for the overshare). I got to witness the sweetest

interaction of a father meeting the baby he only knew about and falling in love. Ryan had the most tender eyes and spoke gently to her. She had his full attention and every moment he spent with her on his chest was the same. I fell even more in love with my daughter and my husband in that moment. 

We headed back to our hospital room and then it was time for our friends and family to meet her. I watched each person enter the room, some with a little bit of apprehension as they weren’t sure if they were walking in to meet a

baby who was alive or who had passed or what her condition would be. I’d see the subtle sigh of relief when they saw this sweet little baby, tiny but full of life, and alert. I watched as my friends and family fell in love with her too. Each enjoying special cuddles and having their hearts melt in a way that only a baby who fought, was fought for and wasn’t meant to live could do. Who knew someone so little could have such an impact in such a short time. They all talked about how beautiful and precious she was. A photographer arrived and captured these joyful moments. Evangeline even got to meet her family in Texas via zoom. She was so loved and had so much love poured out on her during this time.

Eventually, our visitors all left, and it was just Ryan, Evangeline and I. By this stage the pediatric team came in and had explained to us that when a baby is born their pulmonary valve is open which is why Evangeline was able to breath and get oxygen to her lungs. They explained that after about a day or 2 this would close and she would go downhill fast. After hearing this, Ryan and I spent every minute with her, listening to her sweet little noises. We took turns holding her and having skin to skin. We thought we would take shifts having naps, but neither of us could sleep more than 20 minutes because we didn’t want to miss a single moment with her. We dressed her in a tiny little hat, booties and cardigan that was knitted by a good friend, we talked with her, prayed with her, told her how loved she was. We then read to her books that Ryan had read to her while she was in my womb. One that was extra special, was a book called “How much is little girl worth”. Which had us in tears. If you have a daughter I 100% recommend you buy this book. My favorite page says: You are worth fighting for, raising my voice, worth every sacrifice, every hard choice. Worth changing laws, worth all the fight, worth whatever it takes to do what is right. 

These words resonated with me, as in NZ it is believed that babies with Trisomy 18/13 can’t survive so they are not offered surgeries or anything more than palliative care. I have heard that in some cases that are less severe,

over time, some babies have been given surgeries but not without a fight. In Evangeline’s case we knew her heart was too severe and that her 2.7 pound body wasn’t strong enough to undergo surgeries, but I’d love to see NZ fight for and value all children no matter what their diagnosis. In the US babies who are given surgeries have well outlived the odds - the oldest person being 40 with Trisomy 18. While Evangeline only got 24 hours, I will still always profess that Trisomy babies are compatible with life.

It is amazes me how joy and sadness can exist in the same moment. We had so much joy holding her and meeting her and loving her but in the same moment we knew she was fragile and that time with her would be short. Any sign that she wasn’t doing so well had us in tears as we wondered just how long she could fight for. This brought out a protective and attentive side to Ryan, as he did everything, he could to make sure she was comfortable. Like wiping away any saliva from her mouth and keeping her as warm as possible.

I’m so grateful for our village who have supported us during this time. From constant prayers, regular visits, texts just to check in and let us know we are cared for and loved, generous gifts, through to the never-ending meals and baking. We have been so blessed and supported. Two special Amy’s were extra supportive during these two days and the ones leading up to it. Amy T was there supporting us
at Evangeline’s birth, communicating with our friends and family, making the hospital room feel nice, taking photos and videos for us, organizing gifts and our house to be cleaned and pre-organizing meals with the help of

another awesome friend Beza. Then Amy L took the day off work to be there and support us as Evangeline began to pass, she helped us make memories and took on the daunting task of doing Evangeline’s foot molds for us when the lady who usually does it wasn’t available. She also sourced a beautiful Angel gown (made from a donated wedding dress) to dress her in after she passed. There are no words to thank all the people who have supported us, and I could mention so many more people. I’m grateful to my Mum and Dad too who were there with us the whole time and cried with us as she passed. My dad held Evangeline in one of her last hours and prayed over her. That was a special time with her Grandpa.

I’m not ready to share all the details about Evangeline’s death, apart from saying it was the hardest day of our lives. However, meeting her, holding her, sharing her with our friends and family, was 100% worth all the heartache and

recovery pain that has followed and will follow. She was small but mighty, her life albeit short had immeasurable value and she will always be our first born. She made me a Mum and Ryan a Dad. That’s how much a little girl is worth.