“Finding out you’re pregnant at the age of 18 is difficult. You’re so young, so insecure, and so far from being financially secure. But what if the kid you’ve been carrying in your womb for the past 4.5 months never grew any legs or arms below the elbows? It was earth-shattering.
I knew I was pregnant a week before my missed period because of my severe pregnancy symptoms. I ultimately took a test when I was three days late. I sat on the toilet in the mobile home of my boyfriend’s grandparents in South Georgia, staring at the test with a combination of feelings.
My greatest ambition since I was a small child has been to become a mother. I recall spreading out all of my baby dolls, a total of 16, giving them all names and cuddling them in this happy recollection. There was nothing I desired more than a large number of newborns to care for.
My heart began to expand with delight as I glanced at the two lines. Then panic swept over me, obliterating what should have been the finest moment of my life. I was aware of the nature of my relationship. Abusive and untrustworthy. ‘Perhaps this will cause him to truly adore and desire just me.’ And he can’t hit or shove me when I’m pregnant,’ I reasoned. My happiness began to return.
I was such a naive young lady.
I strolled out of the bathroom and across the hall to my and my boyfriend’s rooms. To shelter me from his reaction, I cried on him and assured him it was good. He threw his arms around me and promised me that he would do anything he could to help me with this baby. In my heart, I felt complete. My dreams were becoming a reality.
My lover, however, ended our relationship in the early stages of my second pregnancy. And then we reconnected. And then they broke up again. And they came back together. To be honest, I’m not sure how many times I’ve done it or why. So, knowing that I would most likely be a single mother, I chose to acquire my GED so that I could attend college and give my child the life he or she deserved. My graduation arrived a week before my anatomy scan. I finally felt like I was in charge of my own destiny.
My anatomy scan day has finally arrived! To say I was ecstatic would be an understatement. I had a feeling I was having a girl! I planned to call her Kaylin, but I had Camden in mind as a backup in case the baby was a male. My partner and I drove my 15-year-old sister home from school so she could find out the gender of my baby with me. Finally, a piece of my security blanket with which to rejoice!
From the waiting room, we were summoned. In my stomach, millions of butterflies were fluttering around. Would we be able to notice distinguishing features on my baby’s face at this point? Would my child resemble me? Is my child sucking their thumb?
For the tech, I leaned back on the table and lifted my shirt. She tapped my belly with the wand, and there was my baby’s head! With a beautiful little button nose, she is lovely and round. She became quiet as she proceeded along the baby’s body. Over and over, moving the wand. The baby is jiggling. I’m requesting that it move. My happiness began to fade once more. She promised she’d be right back. Panic. But I persuaded myself that any child of mine would be obstinate like me, so perhaps she couldn’t see the baby’s sex.
My doctor and nurse entered the room together. ‘Things aren’t looking good,’ my doctor said as soon as he entered the room. Things aren’t looking good.’ I misinterpreted his soft tone and assumed he was joking when he said I had a very obstinate baby and that we required his help figuring out the sex.
‘What are your credentials?’ As he glanced at my sister, my doctor inquired. He invited her to step into the hallway after she said she was my sister. Stop your heart.
After that, I don’t recall my doctor’s precise words, but as he examined my baby with the ultrasound, he informed us that there were no limbs or legs on my kid. I couldn’t hear anything anymore. My entire body had gone numb. I didn’t feel like I was even alive. This was a state of limbo. It’s a torturous limbo.
It hit me as I lay there in a state of nonexistence. Like a tonne of bricks slammed into my chest.
My infant is devoid of arms and legs.
‘I’m looking for my sister!’ ‘Right now, I want her!’ My poor 15-year-old sister entered the room and saw my expression and tears streaming down my cheeks. She was well aware that it was a bad situation. I couldn’t even come up with the words to explain what was wrong to her. She, on the other hand, embraced me and grieved with me. ‘The baby doesn’t have arms or legs,’ my lover said quietly. I’m not sure what my sister thought when she heard it, but she was my rock and my only source of comfort and protection during one of the most traumatic times of my life.
My doctor said they’d make an appointment with a specialist to confirm what they saw on the ultrasound or didn’t see. We were then led to the back of the bus so no one could witness our anguish.
When we returned home, the subject of abortion came up immediately. My partner begged and pleaded with me to have an abortion. ‘Having a baby like that would be cruel. He’s a maniac!’ ‘When my father offered to pay for the abortion early on, we should have taken advantage of it.’ ‘You are not allowed to have this child, especially if it is a boy.’ That would be far more disastrous. He’d never be able to compare to me.’
If the specialist confirmed that the baby was lacking limbs, I was eventually persuaded to undergo an abortion. That entire day, I held my tummy and hoped to God that my kid was obstinate and had simply balled up so tightly that seeing the arms and legs was impossible.
The next day, we went to the specialist. My father and stepmother were present, along with my boyfriend, his mother, grandma, and myself. In the waiting room, I rested my head on my father’s shoulder. I don’t recall a single word he uttered if he said anything at all, but I recall his warmth and affection fully enveloping me like a protective shield. Only the best fathers have magical abilities.
It was my name that was called. Every step of the way to that room, I prayed that my kid would have arms and legs. The professional, on the other hand, did not tell me that. My infant had no legs and only arms that reached to the elbows. Some or all of my baby’s organs may fail during pregnancy or shortly after, according to the physician. There was no means of knowing if the brain was working properly. In essence, I’d give birth to a vegetable. I didn’t want to know the sex because I promised to terminate the relationship. But, just in case we ever wanted to know, we told our parents.
My partner exited the room to speak with his mother. I knew he knew when he returned. And the look on the baby’s face told me he was a male.
‘Is it a boy, or is it a girl?’
‘Yes.’
Wow. I am the father of a son.
I was told to book the appointment as soon as we came home from the visit. I called a Jacksonville clinic and scheduled an appointment for the following Thursday. The next morning, I awoke to cry. Only gut-wrenching sobs. I was in a state of sorrow, and it hurt more than I could have imagined. I could feel the gloom infiltrating my soul. My son not only has a serious birth condition, but he will also never meet me. I’ll never know the sound of his cry, the feel of his flesh, the scent of his hair, or whether he resembles me.
My partner was startled awake by my shouts. ‘No. This isn’t something you’re going to do! That’s not how you’re going to cry! And you’re going to have an abortion anyway!’ He had no idea why I was crying, but he was correct. I was about to have an abortion. I began to separate myself from my child. I didn’t require any emotional attachments. It would simply exacerbate the situation.
A few days later, my father asked if I would join him and our family for a beach trip to Jekyll Island, where he was attending a business conference. A beach vacation sounded appealing, especially after the devastating events of the previous few days. My partner was adamant that I not go. He didn’t want my father to persuade me not to have the abortion. A part of me hoped it would be my father. My partner tried to persuade me to stay by threatening to end our relationship if I left.
‘Who do you think will want to be with a malformed baby and a single mother?! Nobody!’ I considered it for a second, but I was still planning an abortion. That was the only thing I could do for my baby that was fair. Allowing him to live a life as a vegetable for my own selfish desires would be terrible.
I made the decision to go anyway. I was dumping my possessions into a large black rubbish bag when I came across the Father’s Day card I had given my partner. It stated, ‘I can’t wait to meet you, Daddy!’ He didn’t require it anymore. I walked away.
My brother and I decided to go to the pool when we got to the beach. We had a bath in the hot tub and met a pleasant couple. The wife, it turned out, was due with her baby boy about the same time I was. I chose to tell you about my son and the abortion I had planned. I don’t recall everything she said, but she stated she didn’t think I’d have an abortion because of the way I spoke about my son. She could sense how much I adored him. Her remarks sparked a thought in me.
The weather was perfect, and the beach was stunning. I needed some alone time, so I went for a walk in the sand, feeling the water rush beneath my feet, and inhaling the fresh air. I did something I hadn’t done in a few days during my walk. I touched my stomach. He started moving all over the place right away.
I began to pray. I needed to feel at ease with my decision to terminate my pregnancy. I’m going to put an end to my son’s life. But I was not at ease. Everything irritated me. Myself. My boyfriend’s name is The physician. Existence. God. What was going on with me? What was going on with MY baby? Why? What is the goal? Why am I the one who has to live the rest of my life in a condition of resentment? Why couldn’t my baby have all of his limbs and organs that we KNEW would work so that we could all live happily ever after? Why?
There is no peace. When I returned to the hotel, I noticed on my phone that my boyfriend’s father had requested a meeting with my father to discuss paying for a portion of the abortion. Even though I knew my father would say no, I let them call him anyway. My father declined. He would refuse to pay for something he does not believe in.
The next day, we returned to my father’s house, and my heart was in excruciating anguish. I’ve never known such deep and dark pain. My abortion was scheduled for the following day.
Everyone had to leave to attend a school function for one of my sisters. I was on my own. I began to sob and scream, clutching my stomach hard because I didn’t want to put an end to the life I was carrying inside of me. My little boy. Camden. I yearned for him, but I didn’t want to appear conceited. I screamed at my newborn child, telling him that I love him and that all I wanted to do was do what was right for him. I cried out to God, pleading for calm. I was going to die if I didn’t get some peace. The agony was too much for my heart to handle.
I talked to my mother and cousin about how I was feeling. They did nothing except listen. I’m not attempting to persuade you in any manner. I just needed someone to listen to my heart and be there for me, and they did just that. After that, a switch was flipped. What if I made the decision to be self-centered? What if I just didn’t show up for my abortion appointment? Why don’t I just wait and see what happens?
Yes.
After that, I’ll meet my son. I’ll be able to keep him in my arms. Examine his odor. Feel his smooth skin. At the very least, I hope to be able to hear him cry. I can tell him how much I adore him and how much I’ve always desired him. I’ll find out whether he resembles me.
I made the decision to keep my child. Peace. The peace is sweet and comforting. Only God can offer you true peace.
I moved from crying tears of deepest and darkest despair to tears of delight! I get to keep my kid, and even if it’s only for a second, I’ll cherish it!
To get away, I went to my cousin’s house. My ex-boyfriend and his mother tried to persuade me to accompany them to my abortion appointment in Jacksonville. I’m not sure if I said no or just ignored them. For the first time in my life, I was content with my decision and wanted that entire family and their terrible influence out of my life.
I left my cousin’s place once I felt safe and returned to my father’s. My ex-boyfriend would beg me to have an abortion so that we could be together. He claimed that he informed everyone that our baby had died so that everything would be fine and no one would know. I was not taken in by his deception.
I decided to move from Georgia to Texas when I was 24 weeks pregnant so that my mother could assist me care for my kid. We didn’t know how much more aid he’d require, so it was best to get help right away.
I chose my new doctor after I got situated in my new house, and he connected me with a wonderful perinatologist. My obstetrician informed me that my baby was completely healthy, despite the fact that he lacked arms and legs.
Months went by. I was 38 weeks and 6 days pregnant on October 2nd, 2013, two weeks after my 19th birthday. My weekly ultrasound was scheduled. I realized I had substantially less fluid than typical as she was checking out my kid on the ultrasound and told her about it. She agreed with me. My OB was contacted by my perinatologist to see what he wanted to do. She returned to the room and announced, “Today is the day I meet my baby son!” I had been looking forward to this day for a long time, and it had finally arrived! I was about to meet my son for the first time.
I was admitted to my room and told that my c-section would take place later that day. My mother, stepfather, and younger sister were all present. My wonderful doula and a new friend, whose 8-month-old boy is identical to mine, came to my aid. Even though I was separated from the rest of my family, I was still surrounded by individuals who cared about me and were eager to see my kid.
When 5 p.m. arrived, the staff began prepping me for operation. That’s when I started to feel jittery. My doctor planned to cut me open and extract a soul from my body.
I was lying on the operating table, looking to the left. It was quite bright due to all of the lights, and it was also extremely cold. People appeared to be in a hurry. When I turned to my right, I was greeted by kind eyes peering out from behind a mask. I have no idea who she was or what she did for a living, but she made me feel protected. Then my mother walked up behind me and told me how much she loved me. Finally, I was prepared.
My doctor informed me that he was about to begin. I began to feel anxious. Everything he did was audible to me. My epidural was insufficiently powerful. My epidural was increased, and the lady with nice eyes informed me that she was giving me anxiety medication to help me relax. After that, I felt much better, and my doctor went on with his work.
6:02 p.m. a.m. a.m. a.m. ‘Take a look up!’ ‘Take a look at your baby!’ He was right there. My little boy. Camden. With a weight of 4.8 pounds and a length of 12.5 inches, this creature is quite large.
I just saw a glimpse for a fraction of a second, but it transformed me in ways no one will ever comprehend. My heart, soul, the reason for existing and breathing, and entire existence were all changed as a result of it. My heart swelled with a kind of love I hadn’t experienced before but entirely understood. It was the sensation I’d been looking for my entire life. I knew I’d made the best decision. Tears flowed from my eyes as I expressed my love. There was no stopping it.
My infant was delivered to me covered in a blanket by the nurse. With the back of my finger, I massaged his small head. He was as gentle as I had imagined. I gave him a kiss on the cheek. He was then taken away.
‘Your kid needs breathing assistance, therefore he is being transferred to the NICU.’ No new mother wants to hear such words.
Despite the fact that I was surrounded by people who loved and cared for me, I was alone. I hadn’t given birth to my child. The nurses were gracious enough to push me through the NICU on my way to my room, a time I don’t recall. My lovely baby was hooked up to a variety of devices, but he appeared to be in good spirits. Then I was carried away after touching him to let him know I was there and that I loved him.
I was finally permitted to see my baby in the NICU the next day afternoon. Camden was breathing on his own for the first time! He was placed in my arms by the nurse. Finally, I was complete. I rubbed and smelled his fluffy head after removing his cap. Then I put my face on his, hoping he’d realize I’m his mother and that I adore him with every fiber of my being. He was just stunning. This isn’t a vegetable. It isn’t a monster. Not distorted in any way. Just the right boy for me.
I made the correct decision.
Camden and I were able to return home two days later. My anxiety would frequently get the better of me, and I’d question whether I was good enough for him. If I could only assist him in learning, growing, and becoming the best version of himself. Camden, on the other hand, soon told me that I was performing my job correctly.
I’ve watched him hit a toy with his arm for the first time at 2 months old, rollover at 4 months old, sit unassisted at a year old, color on his own, brush his teeth on his own, wash his face on his own, climb up playground stairs and slide all by himself during the previous almost 6 years. At the age of four, he can even WALK on his own. All of this I believed he’d never be able to accomplish!
2.5 years after Camden’s birth, God gifted us with an excellent man who loves us unconditionally, despite the fact that we aren’t everyone’s idea of perfection. Like no one else, he looks after us, spoils us, and pushes us to be the best versions of ourselves.
Camden is now an almost 6-year-old wild and lively youngster with the perseverance and spirit to accomplish anything he sets his mind to. He’s also a caring big brother with one brother and three sisters whom he looks after and bosses around every day.
Camden has had the most positive impact on my life. Through his strength, he has demonstrated my own. He has demonstrated to me that love can overcome any difficulty. He showed me that I had a voice, that it can be heard, and that I can utilize it to help others. He taught me to never give up, even when I felt I couldn’t go any further. Most importantly, he has demonstrated to me that prayer IS effective and that God has a wonderful plan for our life, even if it isn’t what we expected.”
The story and photos: Courtesy of Katie Whiddon