ARIEL'S STORY

From the time I was a little girl, I always dreamed of being a mother. Early in 1972 I found out that I was pregnant. I had just finished my first of two college degrees in English/secondary education with a teaching minor in French. I was very studious, but although I achieved a degree with honors at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, I also wanted so much to have a child. I started a teaching job at a local high school, but I seemed to be always very sick and growing larger too fast. Back then, there were no ultrsounds or nor tests like amniocensites. There were no pre-natal tests that are routine nowadays. I thought I was carrying twins or triplets, but my ob-gyn and nurse-midwife were reluctant to perform an x-ray. At about 16 weeks of pregnancy, an x-ray became inevitable. It revealed two things: first that I probably was carrying a daughter, second, that my child had a fatal defect incompatible with life, called anencephaly. I still remember when the MD and CNM came into the examination room after the x-ray and told me that my baby was probably a girl and was certainly doomed to die, before birth, as a stillbirth or to die shortly after birth. What I thought was twins or triplets was an over-abundance of amniotic fluid because anencephalic babies often cannot swallow the amniotic fluid as normal babies can. My dear daughter lacked a cranium, had a rudimentary brainstem. They showed me pictures from medical texts of anencephalic infants. Lacking a cranium, the skull stops above the orbits of the eyes. Whatever brain there was would be fully exposed. The pictures they showed me were of babies who were obviously long dead and very deformed. They had long arms and legs, sort of looking like frogs, I was stunned! It took some time for me to look at those pictures, yes thinking this was like having a "circus baby," as the term for anencephalic infants back then was "monsters."

At that time, abortion was legalised, to save the life of the mother or the mother's mental health. The MD and midwife told me that I should get a letter from a psychiatrist who they knew, and terminate the pregnancy as it was hopeless.They said I could easily be admitted to University Hospital in Madison, Wisconsin, USA and that the psychiatrist would sign a letter. It would take less than 24 hours to complete the process, then I could be on my way. My parents knew I was pregnant. They both advised abortion. My sister, a year younger than I, also said I should have an abortion. I am Jewish (reform) by birth on my mother's side which is a very liberal enlightenment sort of religion in which both agnosticism and even atheism are allowed, more of an ethical way of life, meaning to do good on this earth and leave the afterlife to God. My father is Presbyterian, Protestant and liberal. My family, thus were very 'free-thinkers' and inclined to see my unborn child as a deformed growth and not as a real child. They acted as good parents, out of love for me, but never believing I was having a real baby. It was a fetus. They were protective.

But I had felt my baby flutter inside me. My daughter was very real to me, and in my heart, I knew she was a little person who was simultaneously doomed (as we all are to eventual death) and loved into life.

Unfortunately for my family, I became very stubborn and told everyone to just leave me alone. There was no way I was going to abort this baby who was a real person to me in her own right. I became very angry at the OB-GYN and told him to leave me alone too. I would resolve this with the midwife. I told the MD I never wanted to see him again. Luckily, the MD actually respected my decision and stayed in the background. The midwife, Lois, who had advised the abortion out of concern for a young woman, followed me throughout the pregnancy. She came to respect my views. The MD had also done some research, advising the midwife that the bag of waters should not be punctured quickly, leave a small leak to protect her head, leave the amniotic sac to cushion her head.

The afternoon of September 30th, 1972, I went into labor. I was still adamant at not telling my family anything. I left for the hospital alone. My baby was full-term and about to be born.

It was a very long labor without any anaesthetics whatsoever. I wanted to be wide awake to greet my baby. Because of her lack of a cranium, she was born face first at about 5pm on October 1st 1972. She was born alive, she was my own baby girl.

She did not look like any of the pictures I'd been shown. Yes, she was anencephalic, but she was all peachy-pink with beautiful blue eyes and long eyelashes. She had a little fluff of silky blonde hair at the back of her skull, and she looked at me intensely as Lois, the midwife, placed her in my arms. I was prepared for this, and had brought what I needed. I cradled her, bathed her, dressed her in a long lacey white dress and put a little lace cap on her head, then wrapped her in a pretty white blanket. I was amazed at her beautiful fingers and toes. She seemed amazed at meeting me. Her suck reflex was weak but she cuddled to my breast and tried so hard to nurse while staring at me. She was human and very real, my own beloved daughter.

Ariel Elisabeth Sainte Claire. That was the name I chose for her and gave her at birth. Ariel is a Hebrew name, meaning "Lion of God." Her middle name Elisabeth in recognition of my father's side of the family. Ariel and I were moved to another floor in the hospital, away from the maternity ward. It was not my choice, but I suppose out of compassion so I would not hear other babies crying. I am forever grateful to my MD and midwife Lois that when I was moved, no one was allowed to be with me except for Lois, and that no one was allowed into our room. I held her in my arms, close to my breast. She never cried, just looked at me. I know she did not see me, she was blind and deaf. She tried to nurse but slowly became weaker, then shut her eyes and fell asleep, asleep for eternity.

After Ariel died, I followed Jewish custom for her. The funeral home had already been notified in advance and delivered a simple pine coffin to the hospital which my midwife, Lois brought to me. I bathed Ariel myself, as when a Jewish person dies it is the obligation of the family to bathe the body and redress it in a simple way, for Ariel, a plain white gown. She did not need any cap or bonnet anymore. Jews are not embalmed. The burial had to be before sunset the following day. The reason is beacause in Judaism we return to the earth from which we were formed (thus no vault or metal coffin). In death we are all equal (thus no fancy clothing) and we acknowledge that those we love who die need to be returned to earth as soon as possible. The physician and hospital gave me the permission I needed. I left the hospital in the evening as soon as I was medically cleared, with Ariel in her coffin and drove home. It was, of course a diffcult night with no sleep, but she never left my side. The cemetary had also been contacted and her funeral was the following day. It was a simple one, only me, the Rabbi and my nurse- midwife there. I sang the Kaddish for Ariel (the prayer for the dead), the Rabbi said a few words, then we buried her (another Jewish custom, we buried her ourselves). I then read one poem and turned and walked away.

The rift with my family was not healed although in time it was. She is buried in a pretty place, under a willow tree, with a tiny headstone bearing her name. It says, 'Ariel Elisabeth Sainte Claire, Beloved on this Earth'. I will aways miss my daughter. I am not sure if there is a Heaven, but, if there is, I know I will meet her there.