Olivia Faith Gallman

 

On August 26, 2020, I went in for my weekly doctor appointment, only to find that my sweet girl no longer had a heart beat. No matter how many times we were told this would happen with her diagnosis, and how sick she was, there is still never adequate preparation for moments like these. We fought hard, and we gave it everything we had for as long as we could. She put up a good fight. Each week that we continued to the next, she defied the odds that were against her time and time again. I began to think that we were invincible. Our doctors would say from week to week that they couldn’t believe we were still making it. I am so proud of her for that. It was as if she never gave up and that she fought just as hard as I did for her life. Although her body wasn’t strong enough to keep her alive, I’m thankful mine was able to keep her alive for as long as it did.

This was not what I wanted for her. This is not the life I had planned for her, but I am thankful, thankful for the little life she did have, and I am thankful that she was able to spend it with me. How lucky I feel to have been able to carry her for every second of her entire life. I try to think back on when her heart could have possibly stopped beating, wondering what I was doing at the exact moment it stopped, hoping she was at the most peace she could have ever been, and thankful that it was my voice that she last heard. 

On August 27, 2020, at 4:35 pm, she was born into heaven. It was the hardest day of our lives. The pain of losing a child truly is unimaginable. Matt and I were able to hold her, hug her, kiss her, and tell her how much we love her. We spent countless hours with her, wishing we had more. We had her blessed, we prayed over her, and we thanked god for her.

We named her Olivia Faith Gallman.

For months, We put a lot of thought into her name. She meant a lot to us, and we wanted her name to show just as much meaning. One thing we always discussed with our doctors at every appointment was in the end, no matter what else happens, we ultimately wanted her to be at peace. 

We named her Olivia, which means “peace”, and Faith, which means, “confidence in what we hope for and the assurance that the lord is working, even though we cannot see it. Faith knows that no matter what the situation, in our lives or someone else's that the lord is working on it.” 

I’ll never understand how heaven could ever possibly need her there more than I need her here. I’ll need her for the rest of my life. 

Olivia was put here for a reason. We may never know why she was taken away so soon, but we have to believe God has  a reason that is far bigger than anything that we could ever understand. She had a purpose. Her life had meaning. Her life mattered. 

A few weeks ago, I read a quote that stuck with me and it said, “an angel wrote in the book of life my baby’s name, and as she closed the book she said, “too perfect for earth.””

No matter what odds were against her, and how many “abnormalities” and diagnosis’s she had, Olivia was perfect. She was beautiful. Although the beating of her heart was silent, and her eyes were never able to open, her small fingers had no strength in them to grasp, and we will never know the sound of her cry or hear her voice, She was an angel that we got to hold. Despite everything she’s been through, she was beyond perfect. She had 10 tiny fingers and 10 toes, tiny little feet and hands, and a tiny little nose. She weighed 7.8 ounces and was 8.27 inches long. She was so strong for being so tiny. 

One thing you don’t think about when coming into the hospital in this situation is that you come into the hospital together, but afterward, you leave empty handed. I had a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that we had a baby that we’ll never get to bring home. Instead of bringing her home to a nursery where we would introduce her to her big brothers and sister, rock her and take care of her, we instead have arrangements for her final resting place.

Although she was only here for a little while, I can only hope that we were able to show her enough love to last a lifetime. I can only hope that she is looking down on us and able to see how much she is loved, and how incredibly missed she is. Even though we never really knew Olivia, we love her with all of the passion and intensity that a parent loves a child. My biggest fear is for people not to know she is apart of our family, just because they can’t see her. Olivia will always be apart of our family and apart of our lives. Olivia will always be remembered. 

Olivia changed our lives. She may have been small, but she made a big impact. She showed us a kind of love that is fearless, indescribable and everlasting. She taught us how to continue to have faith, even when we felt we had no faith left. She showed us how to be strong, even when we felt we were at our weakest. She taught us how to have hope even when we felt hopeless. She taught us that life is fragile and precious. 

I will always wonder who she would have been, and how she would have grown if she had been given the chance to. She will always and forever be our baby. My heart will always ache for her. 

My sweet baby girl, I will love and miss you for the rest of my life. 

“We will hold you in our hearts, until we can hold you again in heaven.”

Development

Today, we met with our maternal fetal doctor. Now that our baby girl is more developed, our doctor is able to see how she is developing and if she has any other abnormalities or conditions. 

With trisomy 18, it is common for her to have conditions with how she is developing. I knew going into this appointment, that we wouldn’t get good news. It’s unfortunate, but it’s the hand we were dealt, I’ll never know why, and I’ll never understand why this had to happen to her. 

It’s a strange thing to prepare yourself for, but I knew I had to. I prepared myself for the worst, because honestly, I know it won’t get any better, no matter how much I wish it would. It’s  still unacceptable on so many levels for me, but at the same time, we have no choice. 

During the ultrasound, they found that our baby has multiple conditions. The cystic hygroma is much larger. In some way, that still shocks me every time they tell me that it is larger than the last time. At our last appointment with this doctor, which was three weeks ago, the cystic hygroma was behind her neck and head, and measured 16 mm. Today, it measured 28 mm, and it has exceeded to the front of her head and down her spine. 

She has also developed hydrops. I knew this could happen, I just hoped that it wouldn’t. Hydrops are common with having a cystic hygroma, sometimes a baby will develop hydrops with a cystic hygroma, and sometimes they won’t. Hydrops are an excess amount of fluid in the body. She has developed a lot of fluid in her body within the last three weeks. She has fluid in her chest, surrounding her heart, in her stomach, her arms, down to her waist and in her legs, it has not completely taken over her body, but unfortunately it is in the majority of it. 

Her heart is small. The left side of her heart is smaller than the right side of her heart, and she has a hole in her heart because it did not form properly💔

Her bladder could possibly be functioning, but if it is, it’s hardly functioning enough to tell. 

I have a doctor appointment every week to check her heart beat, and her heart rate has lessened each week. I basically hold my breath from one week to the next, hoping the following week I will get to hear her heart beat again and she’s still alive. 

Right now, she is measuring to be only 6 ounces. She is so small, that it’s hard to tell if she has any other developmental issues.

One thing I have been adamant about is keeping her here as long as she will stay. I know god put her here for a reason, I don’t know if I’ll ever understand why, or why he chose this to happen to her, but I have to believe it’s for a good reason that’s bigger than I can ever understand. Although this has brought us so much sadness, she has shown me love in a way that I have never known before. She has changed my life. She is apart of us, and she always will be.

During our appointment, she looked so happy, active, and content. She loves to move her hands and fingers around. She always has at least one finger pointing in pictures I have of her. She could not keep still. In a way, between doctor appointments, I feel her moving and think to myself, she feels like a normal healthy baby. It’s hard to grasp that she is so sick. 

Before we left, I asked our doctor if she felt pain, or if she ever would feel pain. We never want her to suffer. I feel so helpless. He assured us that none of her conditions are hurting her, and when her heart does stop, it will be peaceful for her. In the end, that’s all I can ask for. I never want her to struggle.

This is the hardest thing I have ever had to do.