- Date Of Birth: December 24, 2012
- Date Of Death: January 29, 2013
- State: Michigan
Wren has been a surprise from the start. We found out that I was pregnant just 8 months after having our son, Oliver, who took years of careful planning and many heartbreaks to bring into this world. We were overjoyed and filled with so much hope for the future of our little family because this little baby chose us. The first few months of my pregnancy went much like any other. We made huge plans for our perfect family of four, made bets on the gender, shopped for cribs and double strollers, and blissfully watched my belly grow. Then the day had finally come to see our sweet baby on ultrasound. I was so excited that I didn’t get much sleep the night before. My gut told me it was a girl and I couldn’t wait to see her face. We went back to the ultrasound room and soon I was seeing my beautiful baby bouncing around in my belly. I tried to make idle chatter with the tech, but she wasn’t very receptive.
This was going much differently than it had with Oliver. The atmosphere was quiet, rather than filled with joy, and she seemed to linger longer on the brain and heart. When I had to remind her to look for the gender I should have known that something was wrong right away. After all that looking she was unable to find out if we were having a boy or a girl, I remember how upset this made me, and looking back I wish this had been the worst of the heartache. We went into the exam room and waited patiently to hear about the results. I sat on the table and listened as my midwife read the report back to us; strawberry-shaped head, clenched hands, cysts on the brain, possible heart defects, Trisomy expected. None of these things made any sense to me, but then she said “chances of survival are slim.” I felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room, I was in shock. I don’t really remember what happened next, but I do remember barely making it to the car before breaking down. I have never cried so hard. The next few weeks were filled with appointments. The diagnosis was confirmed. I was carrying a baby girl with full Trisomy 18, heart defects, and cysts on the brain. At 23 weeks I was told to expect to go into labor at any time and was even given the option to end the pregnancy. This was inconceivable to us, how could we possibly kill this tiny baby girl that defied great odds to even make it this far? I knew she was here for a purpose. The weeks passed. Every day that she was in my belly felt like a gift. Summer turned to Fall and Fall into winter and she was still with us. Her due date came… and went and still she fought. Then Christmas Eve came and my contractions started. My labor was truly amazing. I passed the time at home with my little family, watching Christmas movies, laughing and enjoying being together for the holiday. We rushed to the hospital around 7:00 PM and less than 2 hours later it was time to push. I had held it together all day, but at the moment I had never been so scared in my entire life. I claimed I couldn’t and wouldn’t push, because then it would be completely up to her and I didn’t want to let her go. Of course, she had other plans and it happened very quickly. The nurse placed the tiniest and most beautiful baby on my chest; she was so still and quiet. In that moment I thought that she was already gone. I lay there just staring at her, there was so much going on around me, but all I could see was her and all I wanted was to hear her little voice. Suddenly her little chest heaved and out of this tiny baby came the smallest, quietest cry I had ever heard. My fighter was sounding her battle cry and it was the most surreal moment of my life as I watched her come to life. She was breathing on her own and her heart was beating strong and loud. Wren was here and she was absolutely beautiful at 5 pounds 2 ounces. She was the tiniest baby I had ever known, with a full head of hair and the sweetest nose I’d ever seen. Soon everyone left and it was just the 3 of us. Richard and I just held her all night. There were hardly any words we could think to say. As our time at the hospital continued everyone was amazed at her strength and her drive. She had proven everyone wrong.
Not only did she stay with me until she was past full term, but she was determined to stick around for a while. She was here and she wasn’t ready to let go. After 2 days we got to take her home. This is where Wren really started doing what I believe she was here to do… teach. There wasn’t a single person who saw her beautiful face and witnessed her incredible life that didn’t come away a better person. She taught people that even the smallest of people are important and capable of feats unimaginable. She drove people to try harder to overcome their obstacles; if this tiny little baby could defy the odds and can keep fighting, then so could the rest of us. She reminded us that time is fleeting; to slow down and really be in the moment, to enjoy the people in our lives, and to hug our loved ones just a little tighter. She inspired people to experience peace in simple moments. She humbled people all over the world, of every nationality, gender, religion, and political standing by showing us that all people are special and worthy of love. I know there are lessons that she taught people that I am not even aware of as she reaches stretched from coast to coast and hemisphere to hemisphere. As much as Wren taught other people she taught her family, especially me, even more. She taught me a love like no other. It was an intense and truly unconditional love. Since I knew our time together was going to end far too soon I knew I had to squeeze a lifetime of love into a short amount of time. She renewed in me a faith in people by bringing some of the most genuine and kind-hearted people into my life, from nurses to delivery men. She showed us just how strong our marriage was, through the hardships we face we learned that we can withstand anything. We learned how to comfort each other, how to talk to each other, and how to use our unique ways of dealing with things together to make the best of any situation. I became a better mother to my older son as I was reminded to cherish my babies and my heart grew as I watched my tender little boy become a big brother and shower her with a love as I’ve never seen. She showed me it was okay to ask for help and in doing so allowed me to really appreciate the people in my life, especially my parents who loved her so deeply and haven’t left our side yet. I also learned that love doesn’t know the distance, it doesn’t matter if a person is in the same room or across the world, people’s hearts can connect if they are open. Most of all she showed me just how strong I am and that I am capable of things I never imagined possible. Her fight inspired me to not allow anything to hold me back. For me, there was no greater gift. Five weeks after making her miraculous entrance into the world she decided that she had done her job and had done it well. After spending the most beautiful day together, just mother and daughter, she had had enough love that she was comfortable letting go, but in true Wren style, she didn’t go without a fight. She left us for the first time Monday evening. It happened in the blink of an eye; one second she was here and breathing strong and steady, and the next she was gone. It wasn’t until after we had made our calls and people were on their way over that she decided that she wasn’t quite ready yet and to our amazement, she sprang back to life as suddenly as she left it. I like to think of it as her last gift to us because those that loved her the most got to say their goodbyes.
Our home was filled with so much love that evening. Richard and I huddled on the couch holding Wren that entire night, loving her and each other more deeply than ever. I can easily say that holding her as she very peacefully slipped away was the most profound moment of my life. I always thought this time would be sad and scary, but I had it wrong. I was filled with an emotion that might be described as love but was really so much bigger. I am so proud to be Wren’s mother and I feel so blessed to have been able to witness her leave this world with such grace and dignity. As the story of her time here draws to a close I want to make sure I thank every person who is reading this. I truly believe that she was here for a purpose and I am so thankful that she was given a voice through each person who took the time to check in on her and celebrate her every day. I know her memory will not soon fade, and I urge each of you to remember the little lessons that she taught us so that she lives on through each of us.
Surviving are her loving parents, Richard and MaryKate Compton; her adoring brother, Oliver Compton; her beloved grandparents, Kevin and Rebecca Ringler and Bric and Lorraine Compton; her dear great-grandparents, Marguerite Laney, Jim and Barb Ringler, Mary Allgood and Barbara Compton; her two uncles, David and Josh Ringler; and many other special family and friends.
