My daughter Veronica was born in December 2000. Before she was born, the doctor told me, “There is something wrong with your baby and it probably won’t live. We can send you to a clinic in Seattle to have the pregnancy terminated if you wish.”
Abortion was not an option for me at the time, so I just lay in bed for weeks wondering, “Is today the day my baby will die?” I didn’t think I could go on living if something happened to my baby—I had wanted to be a mommy for so long and I just couldn’t believe that God would do this to me.
|Feb. 2001, Veronica's first foot surgery|
We lived just outside of Seattle at the time and the children’s hospital there has one of the only clinics in the world dedicated to AMC. So I was able to get Veronica the help she needed from day one. I started to think that maybe God didn’t hate me so much after all.
When Veronica was born, she couldn’t move her left arm, both hands were flat against her arms, her hips were dislocated, and she had very severe club feet. I was told she would never walk.
She now walks around quite well and she has full use of both arms and her hips were successfully reconstructed when she was about 2 years old. But her feet have been a constant source of pain for her.
|She's wasn't fast but she had fun|
I still haven’t figured out what good Veronica has gained from her disability—she is such a happy and outgoing child but her legs and feet are a constant source of pain for her.
|Veronica's feet before surgery|
For me, the answer is easy. Through Veronica, I have learned how precious life is. Every minute of the day has meaning and purpose to me.
I never took her two-armed hugs or messes for granted. I can clearly remember her first steps and the way her face lit up as she headed toward me with outstretched arms.