The last 5 months have changed my life in many ways. In October I found out that I was pregnant. For those who know me, this was one of the happiest days of my life and for many more happy days to follow.

I spent the majority of my pregnancy having morning sickness (not just in the mornings), sleeping, and more morning sickness (not quite sure why they call it morning sickness when i feel sick all day). At week 16 we found out we were having a precious baby girl, however, our OB found an abnormality on the ultrasound and had us rush to a specialist because she suspected that our baby girl had cystic hydroma and hydrops. In no time at the specialists we discovered that our baby had serious dysfunctions and was not likely to survive the pregnancy, let alone the following couple of weeks. This is when things changed. We found out through an amino test that our baby had turners syndrome and would probably not make it to full term. Without saying any words, my husband and I knew that the odds were not in our favor but we wanted to give our baby a fighting chance and to put her fate in Gods hands.

The following sleepless nights, which felt like weeks, were spent quietly researching the cause of our baby’s condition, the likely outcomes, what life could look like and what it meant for my husband and I’s chances in future pregnancies. Then came our February 7th doctors appointment with the high risk physician. My parents were in town visiting us. Since my dad was in business meetings, my mom came with my husband and I to the appointment. Something inside me was telling me that something was not right. Something seemed out of order. My husband told me that it was just some jitters since I haven’t seen my parents since the news broke about our baby. During the tech’s exam, I knew, my husband knew, our baby no longer had a heartbeat. The room was quiet as the tech excused herself and left the room. I looked at my husband and you could tell on his face that he understood the fate of our baby. It was only a manner of minutes before the physician would confirm our understanding.

Our baby, Presley Cushing, made it to 21 weeks. The next morning I was induced and gave birth to Presley at 12:50 pm on February 8th (oh, by the way without epidural because the anesthesiologists was running really behind). Presley was 1 pound 3 oz and was 9 inches long. We returned home early that evening and I am appreciative that my parents were out here to support my husband and I.

This experience was one I never thought I would have to go through, but I have learned a lot. I learned that I can overcome and endure serve circumstances. I have learned that my faith is deeper and stronger than before. I have learned that I have the greatest support group in my friends, coworkers and family. And I learned that I have a strong, loving and supportive husband.

Now at the end of my first of many weeks of recovery, I am ready to move forward and continue to share with you my family, having a happy home, me being crafty and not to forget my passion for fashion!

Life Lately, Presley

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