As told by her mother, Meg.
Oh my heart. My aching heart.
On February 12th, 2016, we should be welcoming precious Ainslie Lynn into the world, instead we are creeping up on 4 months since she was brought into this world sleeping.
Sometimes looking back on things it seems like such a blur. Pregnancy tests… Excitement…Ultrasounds…
The tears, overwhelming body-jolting sobs, collapsing into Patrick’s arms as we are told at 17 weeks that there is something seriously wrong.
After tests and days of waiting, the diagnosis came back: Turners Syndrome. We are having a girl. We will beat the 5% chance of survival, we are certain of it. Six weeks later, the flutters stopped. My tiny girl lost the fight.
We were admitted to the hospital that night to begin the process of delivering Ainslie. They induced me at 9pm and two epidurals and twenty-two and a half hours later my sweet girl was brought into this world at one pound, nine ounces, sleeping.
It was October 15th, 2015, 7:30 pm.
We held her, kissed her, soaked up every moment we could. We said our goodbyes, not just to the little girl in my arms, but to the lifetime with her that we would never get to share. The first steps we would never see, the words we would never hear…all of it, ripped away from us in such a short period of time.
My heart aches, for the child I will never get to know. My arms long to hold her close, and keep her safe. There is one thing I know for sure– a diagnosis does not define love. Ainslie will always hold my heart, and my love for her is immeasurable.