Turning Points

As I mentioned previously, meeting with the palliative care team meant we were putting our faith into action. Our first meeting, two weeks before Merideth was born, was full of many emotions. We had an hour-long discussion with the cardiologist about Merideth’s particular condition with its additional complications, followed by more discussion with the other social workers and counselors. My brain was full and my heart was exhausted. Aaron suggested we would have a lot to discuss on our drive home, but I couldn’t even formulate a thought to get our discussion going.

And yet, within that next week, things began to fall into place. We were continuing to move forward in faith, and as I poured over the logistics in the birth plan, my mind began to open up. When the palliative care team had asked about our goals for the birth plan, I probably gave them a blank look. First, my impression of a birth plan is for someone who is going an alternative route, like birthing underwater (no offense), so I did not have anything like that in the works. And “goals” seems to have a connotation of a long-term outcome. My goal when I started this journey nine months ago was to have a sweet, healthy baby, and clearly, that was not going to happen.

However, as I worked through the questions on the birth plan and communicated with the nurse coordinator, I began to understand what interventions I was in favor of and why; the more medical support Merideth had, the more restricted she would be from us. Recognizing that our ultimate goal was to bring Merideth home helped guide my plan. Another turning point for me, was realizing it was very important to me for Natalie to be able to know her sister, especially if her time was limited to being in the hospital. Once I identified how important that was, it helped me understand why certain interventions would not be part of our birth plan.

For my second visit with the palliative care team, Aaron was unable to attend, so my mom came along for support. There were still a lot of details to clarify on the birth plan, but I recall that I was gaining confidence—assurance—that this was right. I was walking in faith and the way was opening up. In fact, it was a blessing that Aaron was not there because it caused me to take charge of the discussion, and the feeling of assurance continued to grow.

Over the weekend I made a few more adjustments to the birth plan and emailed it the morning of the day I was to go to the hospital to begin the induction. Why did Aaron say we needed to make this decision ahead of time? It was all beginning to make sense. I needed that time to gain a testimony of our decision which would allow me to press forward with full confidence. The doctors needed to know what our intent and needs were, and that made our time at the hospital a very positive experience for me.

I planned to share this aspect of our experience mostly to point out how I began to feel confirmation and peace. A friend who visited me the day before Merideth was born remarked that I seemed remarkably calm, and I truly was. As I write this, though, I feel like I also needed to share it to help other parents expecting a child with a birth defect understand how comforting it was to have a birth plan and to know that the professionals are most willing to accommodate you in the goals that you have for your child.

(photo: Merideth's rose bush blooming earlier this summer)