Patient Declined Termination of Pregnancy: Sally Pink's story

Two years ago this week our world tilted on its axis. We lived in Houston, Texas, I was 20 weeks pregnant with our 4^th child, and we had just been in to receive our anatomy ultrasound. This is the scan where the baby’s major organs are checked. We had the scan done at a special ultrasound clinic and our biggest decision that day was whether to find out the gender of the baby or not. We choose both and had the technician write the results on a yellow sticky note and I placed in my purse.

The next day Mark and I were out trying to finalize the sale of our two vehicles and had stopped to eat lunch when my obstetrician called us. I quickly stepped out of the restaurant to more clearly hear. Just in time to hear the Dr when she said, “All the measurements look good with the baby and everything looks up to date... However, the technician did find a spot in the brain. You’re going to need a level 2 scan to address this.” I felt the blood draining...I tried to ask coherent questions, tried to understand what the Dr was saying, but basically until we had the scan there was no telling what “spot on the brain meant.” This was Thursday and so we had to wait over an agonizing long weekend until Tuesday to attend the scan with a perinatologist.

That weekend I turned 31 and it was a horrible birthday, sad to say. I was consumed with worry. If you’ve never experienced it worry on this level it rips you in two. Sleep was the only respite from this disease that was eating me alive.

Offering My Greatest Treasures

Every spring our lives change. 

Every. Single. Spring.

The Anderson family has some huge life-altering event/news take place. 

Some events are the best of our lives: the birth of Caithness Maela, the birth of Aberdeen Daye. 

Some events the most dramatic or painful: our home flooded with 5,000 gallons of raw sewage, the loss of our baby boy, Iain. 

This April marks the 3 year anniversary of one of the greatest times of trial in our lives. It is a story to be told, and we will tell it each year--to the glory of God. This story will be forever be etched on our hearts.

After church on Easter Sunday 2012 in Missouri while the majority of the family took naps I took Caedmon, then 5, out to fly his kite. While sitting on the bank of our pond I noticed an awful bruise on his right knee; black, blue, purple, it was horrible. Yet he didnʼt recall how heʼd gotten it or seem in pain from it. As I pointed it out later to Mark I realised both Caedmonʼs knees were bruised quite traumatically. That evening we were appalled to find similar bruising all over his body. Mark and I looked over Caedmon at each other with an awful sense of dread in our eyes. It was then the numbness began.

Caedmon flying his kite the day we discovered his bruises.

Airdrie: the long and short of it

The past 3 weeks have been difficult for us, so I can't imagine what they've been like for Airdrie.
Here is the story of this on-going saga, but for those who aren't into a 10 minute read please just pray for our sweet girl, Airdrie.

One evening at the very end of January Mark was holding Airdrie and noticed she had tensed up and was shaking (not like a seizure, but in pain). Her eyes had tears streaming out of them, her face was red, and blood was running out of her mouth.
Airdrie had just bitten through her lower lip.

Our sweet girl has always had some kind of issue when it comes to pain. If she rolled over on the floor and hit her head on the radiator she didn't cry. Getting her vaccinations....she didn't cry. As a matter of fact I don't think it's an exaggeration to say we have never heard Airdrie cry out in pain. For this reason we became increasingly concerned as daily Airdrie would re-injure her lip by continuing to gnaw on it.