Every Life Counts

Ten years, three miscarriages, two healthy sons and another baby on the way… the year was 2007.
The ultrasound tech searched the fuzzy black and white images, then silently excused herself from the room, returning later with my OB/GYN. I was no stranger to ultrasounds. This pregnancy was officially my sixth and at 16 weeks had been progressing without complications other than my usual extreme morning sickness.
I knew the only time a doctor was summoned something was wrong. He quickly explained that the baby girl I was carrying had two cysts growing on her brain. These were “prerequisites for Down Syndrome,” he said. He suggested amniocentesis to be sure, and strongly recommended that I terminate my pregnancy before I was too far along for the “procedure.” 
My husband and I opted out of amnio or further testing. After several follow up visits where the medical staff continued to pressure me to make a decision, my husband spoke up and said, “Even if she has Downs Syndrome, this is our child and we will love her no matter what.”
The horror that spread across their faces said, “Why would you CHOOSE to bring an imperfect child into this world?”
But we didn’t need to decide if our baby girl should live because God had already made the final decision. 
When my last trimester came, I was given another ultrasound. Though the tech searched and searched the screen, all of the cysts were gone.
In 2008, Lydia was born on her due date, and without Downs Syndrome. It is profound to me now that the same hands who suggested we terminate her life were the first to hold her the moment life outside the womb began.
At the time I wrote this blog (in 2019), she was an active 4th grader who became a member of an Invention Club that met after school. Lydia and two friends invented a game to help make life easier for people on the autism spectrum. After competing with other students at Middle Tennessee State University and winning first place, they were invited to represent all of Middle Tennessee at the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan.
Lydia loves horses, singing at the top of her lungs, and people. I know that God has a plan for my girl, and I’m looking forward to watching from the sidelines as it continues to unfold.

In 2019,  she saw a man who was homeless holding a cardboard sign on the side of the interstate asking for money.


Her heart broke for him, so she came home and created her own sign that read, “God is with us. Believe in God. He will blow the trumpet and we will go up to heaven. Believe in God. I love God and Jesus.”


She asked if she could stand on the corner holding her sign because she wanted others to know there is hope.

She’s right, there is hope. Every life is important. 

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