Nomatter
howgrim
theoutlook,
mybaby
deserved
a chanceI wantedto
carryonmy
pregnancyDocssaidherbaby
wasdoomed,so
why
wasAprilHinson,
38,decorating
thenurseryandthrowing
ababyshower?
T
helookonthenurse’s
facesaidit all.
‘I’mpregnant,aren’t
I?’I gasped.
‘Eightweeksandsix
days,’shesmiled.
A surgeof joyovercameme.
I was 35 andit wasmylifelong
dreamtobecomea mum.
It wasAugust2015,and
I’djusthadanultrasounddue
tosomemysterystomach
problemsI’dbeenhaving.
I’dthoughtit mightbe
linkedtomydiabetes.
I certainlyneverthoughtI’d
bepregnant.I’dalwaysbeen
toldmysizemeantthatwas
prettyunlikely.
Butnow,I feltlikeI’dbeen
blessedwitha miracle.
Beamingwithsheerjoy,
I couldn’twaittotellmyfamily.
‘You’regoingtobe
grandparents!’I toldMum
downthephone.
‘Oh,that’swonderful!’
shesquealed.
SheknewhowmuchI’d
wantedchildren,
andhow
devastated
I’dfelt
whenI’d
thoughtit
WORDS:wouldnever
JAMES
HANMAN,
JESSICA
CRIPPS.
PHOTOS:
KENNEDY
NEWS
AND
MEDIA
happen. And now it would!
I was walking on air.
Over those next days,
I couldn’t stop daydreaming
about all the things me and
my baby would do together.
Boy or girl, I didn’t care.
Either way, I’d be lavishing
them with love, taking them
for walks in the park.
And when they were old
enough, we’d make the long
drive to see my mum and
stepdad at their home in
Maine, 17 hours from where
I lived in Lorain, Ohio, USA.
I couldn’t wait to go on a
shopping spree, stock up on
sleepsuits, tiny socks and
cuddly toys.
But just a week on, at my
10-week scan, the doctor and
sonographer suddenly fell
silent. They looked at eachother, concerned, then began
to whisper.
My heart thumped.
‘Is everything OK?’
I squeaked nervously.
The doctor looked at me.
‘I’m sorry, but your baby has
anencephaly,’ he said.
He explained it
is a defect where
the brain and bones
at the back of
the head fail to
form properly.
‘I’m afraid we
can’t cure or treat it,’
the doctor said.
Each word was a
knife in my heart.
But it was the doctor’s
next sentence that hurt
the most.
‘I advise that you terminate
the pregnancy,’ he said.
He explained that if I went
ahead, my baby may only
survive for a
few weeks or
days. Maybe
even hours.
I broke
down, utterly
distraught.
My dream had
been shattered
after just a week
of knowing that
I was pregnant.
The doctor
also told me
that, as most
parents choose
termination,
medics didn’t
know a great deal
about children
living withanencephaly,
for however
long that may be.
But I wasn’t most parents.
I couldn’t possibly terminate
the pregnancy.
No matter how grim the
outlook was, my baby deserved
a chance.
I went home feeling like
I was buried in a
black cloud.
But researching
the condition
online, I learned
that some children
had lived for as long
as eight years
with anencephaly.
I was going to
carry my baby to the
bitter end and hold them in my
arms, whether they survived
the birth or not.
However long we had
together, my child would never
be short on love.
My mum supported my
decision, as did my friends.
But although there was a
very slight chance that my
baby would live, and I
desperately hoped that they
would, I knew it was slim and
I was careful not to get my
hopes up.
Friends scolded me for
saying that I could miscarry at
any point. But I had to be
prepared for the worst.
At 16 weeks, I learned that
I was carrying a little girl, and
decided to call her Sianna.
Doctors said she’d never
move, but Sianna kicked so
much it was like she was
dancing in my belly.
I didn’t let the circumstances
stop me from treating my