Sienna’s Birth Story

I have a hard time talking about this because it brings up so many emotions. When I think back to the day Haley was born, I feel nothing but joy. With Sienna, it’s more complicated than that. I had been having nightmares as the day got closer to Sienna’s birth. I kept thinking something could still go terribly wrong. I asked the OB if there was anything that could happen. She reassured me and told me that we were at the end and the baby looked great. I had 7 ultrasounds and they all showed a perfectly healthy baby. We were days away from the due date. I expressed concern over her lack of movement. They told me everything was fine. I asked if something could come up because we hadn’t done the genetics screening. Her response to that was less reassuring. She said, “If you had concerns, you should have gotten the genetics screening.” I said, “I don’t have concerns. I’m just asking if something could still come up. All my ultrasounds were normal, right?” “Your baby is measuring perfectly and everything looks great. Get some rest and get ready to meet your baby.”

Of course, now I know that my worries were warranted. It’s probable that Sienna wasn’t moving as much because she had Down syndrome and she had low muscle tone. It’s possible she was tired because she had a heart defect. That was another thing that never came up on any 1 of the 7 ultrasounds. When I tell people that I chose not to get a genetics screening, I feel judged. It’s the same puzzled, baffled, look every time I mention it. “Why wouldn’t you get the genetics screening?” Then I end up making that person feel uncomfortable when I tell them I had 4 miscarriages. Even my OB questioned me. The Ultrasound technicians questioned me. They even spent extra time looking for Down syndrome markers. None of them showed up. The truth is that the first trimester screening just looks for markers. Nothing is definitive. And if your markers are high, they want you to have an amniocentesis which has a high incident of miscarriage. I would never have agreed to it. I worried about so much the entire pregnancy and I just wanted to have the most relaxed gestation possible for this baby. I wanted to enjoy the pregnancy.  But when Sienna entered my world and they told us she had Down syndrome, I immediately blamed myself. When I really think about it, I made the decision for us about the genetics screening. I told Jason that I didn’t want the screening and I explained why and he agreed. He never would have argued with me after all I had been through.

The day Sienna was born I woke up and my water had broken. It was wonderful knowing definitively that I was in labor. We called Jason’s parents and they came down to pick up Haley. We left for the hospital giddy. I was slightly emotional saying goodbye to Haley but she was so excited to be a big sister. I couldn’t wait to give her that sibling I had fought so hard for her to have.

When we got to the hospital, everything was very normal. They had to make sure my water had really broken and that I hadn’t just become incontinent. After a few hours, they admitted us. I still wasn’t having contractions so they decided to give me some pitocin to get things moving. As the contractions sped up, so did the pain and I asked for the epidural. Immediately, I felt relief but I also felt dizzy and my blood pressure dropped. The anesthesiologist had to give me a different kind of medication to get my blood pressure up. The baby’s heart rate was all over the place while this was happening.

I felt better but the baby’s heart rate still continued to bounce up and down. I was terrified. The nurses were downplaying it. They were intent on keeping me calm and they were doing a good job. As time passed, I got closer to being dilated and the nurses prepped me for delivery. Labor was fast and she came out in 4 pushes.

When she came out, she wasn’t crying. I looked at her and my first thought was that her head looked a little small and I got worried about microcephaly. My pregnancy took place during the height of the Zika virus. The nurses laughed and said she was fine but they were worried about her color and they ran her over to the UV light. Jason went with her and started to take pictures of her as they measured and weighed her.

My OB was talking to me and she started to ask me if I wanted any more children. My placenta wasn’t coming out on it’s own. It was possible they’d have to do a procedure to remove it and that could potentially lead to my uterus being removed. I knew this was a concern from the Asherman’s syndrome. I said that this was probably it for us but to do everything she could to try to avoid it. A few other doctors rushed in and did an ultrasound. To be honest, Jason and me were both nervous about this. Now looking back, I think we were so worried about me that we didn’t pay attention to what else was going on in the room.

After waiting 30 minutes, my placenta came out. They asked me if I wanted to breastfeed and I said yes. Sienna latched like a champ. She was beautiful. Jason and I gushed about how clueless we had been that she was a girl. We really thought she was a boy. We were both so happy to tell Haley she had a sister, which was what she wanted.

When I finished nursing her, I told the nurses to go get my parents from the waiting room so we could tell them. That’s when everything changed. I suddenly noticed the look on the nurse’s face that had examined Sienna and something was up. She said, “Before we get your parents, can I talk to you for a minute?”.  I knew right then and there. I looked at Sienna and I knew her eyes looked almond shaped. But she was beautiful. The nurse said, “Some of Sienna’s features can be indicative of Down syndrome and we think another doctor should come take a look at her to make the call.” My heart sank. It felt like the walls were closing in on me. I wanted to run and never look back. I wanted to scream. This wasn’t happening. This had to be some sick joke. After all we went through, this couldn’t be happening. We had already been through so much. Why was God punishing me? Hadn’t I been through enough? I immediately couldn’t breathe. The nurses gave me some anti anxiety medication but it did nothing.

Another nurse came into the room. She grabbed my hand and started to tell me about her friend who had a beautiful child with Down syndrome and how much that child had enriched her life. She started to tell me how Pennsylvania was one of the best states in the country for kids with disabilities. Sienna would be approved for medicaid and that would help with medical expenses. I shut down. Her kindness helped me from completely losing it but I wasn’t processing a single word. I asked her if the other nurse could be wrong. She said that it was possible and only the doctor would know for sure. In came the doctor. He could not have been more soul crushing. He examined her and said there was no doubt that she had it and when I asked, “What does that mean?” He started to list everything negative. He said she would have developmental delays. It would take her longer to walk and talk. He said she could have heart problems. She could be more prone to Leukemia. I shut down. Jason was detached. I looked at him and he looked like he was in shock. The doctor left and I cried. The kind nurse grabbed my hand again and said, “This baby is a blessing and she is beautiful.” I asked to hold her again. She was so beautiful. This was my baby and I loved her.

It was that moment that I remembered we still had to tell my parents. They were outside waiting. How was I going to tell them this? I started to cry. The nurse grabbed my hand. I asked her if she could do it. I just couldn’t do it. When they came in and the nurse told them, they both continued to smile and they held her and said she was beautiful and that it didn’t matter. I was so relieved and touched by their reaction.

Now, I look back on this day and I’m sad. I’m sad because Sienna’s birth was one of the saddest days of my life and Haley’s birth was probably the best day of my life. I have guilt. I know now that these feelings and reactions are normal. Imagine one of the best moments of your life snatched away from you. That’s what it felt like when they told me Sienna had Down syndrome.

I’m still very emotional thinking about it. I recently wrote myself a letter on the day I received Sienna’s diagnosis.

To Haley and Sienna’s Mom,

I know what you’re thinking: This must be my fault. You fought for this pregnancy. You pushed through loss after loss. You carried so much fear that something might go wrong—and now it feels like it has. You wonder if you should have stopped trying after the fourth miscarriage, if you’ve just sentenced your family to something too heavy to bear.

But here’s the truth: she’s still your baby. The same baby who’s been tumbling inside you, flipping during yoga, reminding you she was there all along. She is the child you were meant to have. You are the mother chosen for her—and one day, you’ll see that with clarity.

I won’t sugarcoat it. This first year will test you more than anything before. You’ll feel stretched, exhausted, and scared. But you’ll also grow in ways you never imagined possible. You are already a wonderful mother to Haley, and the lessons you’ve poured into her will carry her forward. With Sienna, you’ll be asked to climb steeper hills. But you’ll find the strength. You always do.

You’ll worry about Haley. You’ll fear this has placed a burden on her. But you’re wrong. What you’ve given her is a gift: the chance to grow into deep empathy, to be a fierce protector, to love in a way that is rare and extraordinary. You’ll watch the bond between your daughters unfold, and it will bring you to your knees in awe. They were made for each other.

Your marriage will be tested. You and your partner will process this differently, sometimes at different speeds. There will be moments of loneliness, of feeling misunderstood. Be patient with one another. Remember that you are both doing the best you can. Love will stretch, bend, and eventually settle into something stronger.

Let yourself cry. Let yourself grieve. And then let yourself rise. You will become fiercer than you’ve ever been. You will learn to fight for your girls, to push back when doctors underestimate Sienna, to trust your instincts. Some professionals will see only a diagnosis—but you will always see your child. And you’ll be right.

You will discover a community you never expected, one that will eventually feel like family. They will walk with you through some of the hardest moments, offering wisdom and friendship you didn’t know you needed.

One day, you’ll wake up and it won’t feel like you’re recovering from a nightmare. You’ll stop seeing “Down syndrome” first—you’ll just see Sienna. You’ll see her perfection, her grit, her joy. She will surprise everyone, and she will change you in ways that make you better.

Life will never be the same—but that’s true with every child. This journey will be hard. It will also be beautiful. You’ll celebrate victories others take for granted, and each one will feel like a mountain moved. You’ll learn to live in the present. You’ll stop rushing so far ahead and start treasuring the everyday.

So yes—put on your big girl pants. This isn’t going to be easy. But it will be worth it. Motherhood always is. And this particular road? It will break you open, rebuild you stronger, and give you a front-row seat to a kind of love most people never get to witness.

Buckle up—it’s going to be one hell of a journey.