By Jacquelyn Wise
Mommy to Renesemee
Anencephaly
January 2024
I was about 20 weeks pregnant. I was at my appointment with my son, who was only a few months old at the time. He was crying and wiggling in my arms. After the ultrasound, I went back into the waiting room and called my boyfriend to tell him everything the tech had said about the baby – that there were concerns. I was still on the phone with him when the nurse called me back to a room to talk.
She instantly sat down and told me the diagnosis: anencephaly.
I was in shock. I didn’t know how to feel or what to think. I knew in nine months, I wouldn’t be coming home with my baby. I felt lost.
As time passed, I grew to accept what I could not change. I tried to focus on the positive side of everything. I wanted to cherish every moment I felt Renesemee move in my tummy, and every second I would get to spend holding her.
On Angels’ Wings came to our home at Christmas time and did my maternity pictures.
When I got the diagnosis, I felt fear and sadness. But as my pregnancy went on, those feelings slowly grew into strength and thankfulness. There was an odd sense of peacefulness that came with the diagnosis. Usually, when someone is pregnant, you feel anxious and worried because anything can happen—but I knew what the outcome was. I knew how this pregnancy would end. I knew I would only get a short time with my baby.
We weren’t sure Renesemee would even make it through labor. Most babies with this diagnosis don’t make it to full term, and if they do, they usually don’t survive the delivery. So, when she was born, I waited and waited for the nurse to tell me if she had a heartbeat. I had Renesemee on my chest as the nurse listened. She stepped back and said, “I don’t hear one. I’m sorry.” I could see her chest moving very, very lightly, but I also saw her turning purple.
The nurse asked if I wanted her to check again, and I said yes. She listened again and informed me she still didn’t hear anything. We knew this was a possibility, but hearing it out loud was awful.
I held her for about five minutes before letting Mason do skin-to-skin. While Mason was holding her, she took a gasp of air. The nurse said it was just a reflex. He held her for about another five minutes. Then I took her back into my arms—and she did three or four of those big breaths again.
Our wonderful nurse rushed to listen to her heartbeat again. She immediately smiled and let me listen. I instantly started crying.
Thirteen minutes after birth, her heart started beating. She definitely was a fighter. Her daddy holding her made her start breathing. We got time with her before she passed, and it was more than I could have imagined under the circumstances. We’re so grateful.
Since we lost our daughter, I’ve learned to accept the things I cannot change and embrace them. This experience has made me cherish moments with my son and family even more.
I hope to build a life that will support my son. I want to grow into a woman my son will be proud of and can look up to. I want to be the good example I never got as a child.
Having these pictures taken by On Angels’ Wings was amazing. I was pregnant, working, and taking care of a five-month-old. There was no way I could have afforded these photos on my own, and I only got a few short moments with my baby girl. I’m so extremely glad I got them in picture form to keep forever.
I’ve also attended a Mother’s Day spa event for recipients through OAW. It was nice to be around other women who felt similar to how I have. You always kind of have this hole in your heart that doesn’t go away. Grief never disappears—it just gets easier to deal with.
I’m grateful for the constant engagement from the people at OAW. They’re always trying to help and provide more to moms and families like me. It’s amazing to see people who care so much about helping others they’ve never even met. It really shows that someone cares.
I would 100% recommend OAW to other families in this situation. The entire experience was personal and raw. These are people who take time out of their own lives to provide everlasting memories and moments for others in need. Truly inspiring.
