On a chilly Thursday evening in February in New York City, my apartment spun as I held two positive pregnancy tests. I looked out at the east side of twinkly Manhattan and burst into tears. It was there, 29 floors high in the sky, I found out I was becoming a mother. And for me, there was no way out without giving birth to a child — 29 Thursdays later.
In October of 2018, I was flying miles away from home in Orlando with everything I owned in two, large suitcases. I was headed back to my favorite city in the world, New York City, after a bad breakup and few months hiatus. I was back better than ever to experience the city as a single girl, and ready to thrive in my professional career. Just weeks after settling in, I was chasing the sun, taking my long runs along the East River, and meeting all the people I could. I jumped right back into the hustle and bustle that I missed during my time in Florida. I was doing what I always did, throwing myself into unknown experiences and thriving in all of it. That was me, independent, confident, and curious, determined to be free, and create a life of my own.
I told my daughter’s biological father the night I found out and while he is not in any way a part of our lives, I will hold close in my heart an initially supportive response. Other parts of this story are omitted. I will always remain true to the side of the story that is mine, not the one that isn’t mine to tell, but what I can tell you is this: I fully accepted the fact that I would be likely raising my baby on my own. I have felt abandonment like I have never felt before, but I am much stronger because of this, in my faith and in my identity; both as a mother and a woman. After a few hours of, “oh wows”, I scheduled an appointment at an OB on the Upper East Side for the following Monday. The reviews were great, and the doctor seemed reputable.
As soon as I sat down in her office, she had her assumptions, as she recognized my nervous demeanor. “So there are women further uptown who can handle everything if you are too far along for the pill. If you aren’t far along, I can give it to you here and you will experience, like, a heavy period. You might get a little sick but it’s no big deal,” she told me. The abortion pill is what she was refering to. I started at her in shock, as I had not asked to hear about “my options.” I was terrified and had yet to have an ultrasound. I explained to her that we weren’t interested in an abortion, but first, I just wanted to find out if I was truly pregnant. I changed into that pastel pink medical gown and prepared myself for the news of a lifetime. As soon as the ultrasound began, she looked at the screen and said three words I will never forget: “Oh … it’s big.”
Photo courtesy of Hannah Drinkall.
Immediately, I was overwhelmed with emotion and love. The happiest tears flowed from my eyes and depths of my being. I was excited despite knowing the odds were already stacked against me as a single mother — a title I now embodied. I feared to let my family down and wondered what this would mean for my career. I felt slightly trapped in my small-framed figure that would soon grow a bump. The one thing that did not scare me, though, was how I would raise a child. I was completely unprepared, but I had faith and a mother’s heart. I think the combination of the two clicked in that very moment, and almost instantly, I became ready. I consider myself very blessed to have such a beautiful, strong, and confident reaction in one of the most shocking moments of my life. As I asked to see the screen, she questioned if I was sure. Finally, she turned it towards me. I am convinced the most beautiful sight on this Earth is that first glimpse of your preborn child. Never will I ever forget that moment and the way my heart fluttered. A perfect, tiny human being, with all 10 fingers and toes was visible, a little head, and a cute, plump belly appeared on the screen. I was about 11.5 weeks along. The doctor snapped pictures as she noticed my smile, and said in disbelief, “Oh it’s waving!” With her tiny, right arm, my daughter waved to me, and I waved back. I believe God allowed my baby to give me that wave and connect with me in a way that would bond us forever. “You’re safe with me, baby,” I whispered, as the sound of a strong heartbeat filled the room.
“So your mind’s made up?” the doctor asked. “Yes,” I replied. “Yes, it is.” I knew this was meant to be. A perfect person was safe and secure in her mother, where she would stay until she was ready to grace the world. I would continue my pregnancy frequently faced with doctors asking me if I was sure I wanted to follow through, due to being severely sick as time went on.
I was diagnosed with hyperemesis gravidarum and was hospitalized due to the condition. I struggled and fought for my daughter quietly in the city that never sleeps. After a couple months of keeping my pregnancy secret while physically struggling majorly at my corporate job, it was my own sister who sent me a link to the Sisters of Life. I was not totally sure what I would ask for as I had a job and an apartment. I was determined to live on my own in the city. I was convinced I could do this by myself, even though I had no family nearby. I had friends, stability in my career, and my faith, but I ultimately figured that an email to the Sisters who have devoted their lives to the sanctity of life wouldn’t go astray. I couldn’t believe I was clicking on the “pregnant? need help?” tab on their website. Two days later, I was crying my eyes out in the basement of St. Andrews Catholic Church, right next to the Brooklyn Bridge. Two of the most beautiful Sisters sat with me and listened as I sobbed into the soup and tea they served. I shared with them all of my fears and the humility, shame, and rejection I felt, but also how much I loved my child, and how I was convinced I was having a girl. (Turns out — I was right!)
Hannah and her newborn daughter. Photo courtesy of Hannah Drinkall.
At 7 months pregnant, I cried on the floor of my beautiful apartment, surrounded by suitcases and bare walls. I moved into a convent/maternity home with the Sisters, who not only walked this path with me, but gave me love, friendship, and strengthened my spiritual life. I attended a healing Mass and prayed the rosary so much that now, I cannot go a day without doing so. I lost my job due to an inability to work (thanks to my sickness) and the Sisters were there for me every step of the way, Pedialtye at the ready. They accompanied me to doctor’s visits and held my hand in the hospital as I was hooked up to IV fluids for throwing up 86 times in one afternoon.
I met beautiful mothers, committed to giving their babies the best lives possible. However, as I spent each night in my safe, little room, I knew I was potentially taking up space for someone who needed it, and who needed the Sisters more desperately than I did. After four of the most peaceful weeks of my life, I packed my suitcase (a Sister carried it down the stairs for me!) and met my dad at the airport. I will never forget taking off that night with a perfect view of Manhattan, my favorite city in the world, and I knew it would never look the same to me again.
My parents, though shocked, loved me and my daughter, so I moved back to my hometown to give birth and start my new life with my family by my side. I’ve learned through all of this that many things are temporary. The road we’re on may not be quite the way we’ve planned it, but having faith helps guide the journey and gets you through. I have never felt closer to the Lord, thanks to the Sisters, and I am incredibly grateful for my education and career experience, too, that give me the ability to provide for my child, and keep my passions alive. My daughter has inspired me to work harder, love harder, and be better, as she is my greatest motivation. She has made life incredibly full and holy – and she is a strong and smart sweetheart of a soul. Unfortunately, the OB’s office was not where my faith being tested would end.
Hannah and her daughter. Photo courtesy of Hannah Drinkall.
When my daughter was born, she did not cry. After a 63-hour induction (due to a late diagnosis of IUGR), but just a few minutes of pushing, my baby entered this world gray and almost rubbery. I knew instantly that something was wrong. The moment she arrived was not the happy one I had imagined. Upon seeing my child’s lifeless body after the cord had been unwrapped from around her neck, the midwife who delivered her announced calmly, “I need the team.”
I’ve worn a miraculous medal around my neck since I was 21 years old, and now, 4.5 years later, I clutched Mary between my fingers harder than ever. I screamed, “Our Lady help her! Help me! Jesus, please! Please send her back! Jesus, I trust in you, please! Give her life! Let her breathe!” With my amazing mom and several nurses by my side, I did not care who heard. There is something so beautiful about crying out to God when you are at your lowest of lows … it was complete desperation, vulnerability, and faith. After several minutes of the neonatal team resuscitating my daughter, she let out a quiet cry — the most precious sound I have ever heard. I was able to hold Tara for 5 minutes in a blanket before she went up to the transitional ICU with my mom, where she passed all tests with flying colors.
After four hours, I was finally given the chance to hold my daughter skin-to-skin upstairs. There, the pediatrician pulled me aside and asked to have a word with me. “You know what happened, right?” He leaned towards me closely, and looked directly at me. I wondered if this was a trick question as he continued, “Your baby was basically born dead. But she is perfect. She’s going to be just fine.” Born on the feast day of the Queenship of Our Lady, (August 22) it is only fitting that I had already chosen my daughter’s middle name to be … Mary.
READ: Moms share how they chose life though pressured to have abortions
The moment I looked into Tara Mary’s eyes, I came to understand God’s perfect love for the very first time in my life. I let go of the plans I had made for myself that would never reach fruition, because of course, I had to make some sacrifices. I had to give up New York City, and my life of freedom as I knew it. But none of that mattered any longer. I knew, right in that moment, that God has his own, perfect plan handmade for me and my daughter. My living, breathing, beautiful, miracle daughter. Fast forward to where we are now, I see how God was making space in my life for unconditional love – the kind that is the parent-child relationship, specifically for me, the mother-daughter relationship – and also, the kind that St. Joseph embodied. I knew the Lord had someone waiting for us who wanted to be there for us, even though they do not have to be- and I am so grateful.
Giving birth was the most empowering experience of my life, which is ironic considering how often women are told abortion is empowering. I believe it is quite the opposite. Something else that the Sisters of Life do too is offer healing for those who have had abortions, which I think is one of the most beautiful aspects of their ministry. There is hope in healing and forgiveness.
Personally, I am grateful that abortion was never an option in my heart, and I will spend the rest of my life reminding Tara that she is willed, she is wanted, and she is loved.
In sharing this, I am not looking for praise nor am I advocating single parenthood, but hoping others find inspiration to do the right thing when faced with a choice. I’ve written this for women who find themselves in similar shoes, for women who have experienced an intense fear, and intense shame, or an intense defeat. For the women who are afraid of something so unplanned, for those who feel alone, abandoned, or discouraged. For those who have faced a Thursday like mine – the good and the bad ones. I like to say that Thursday is now my favorite day of the week. It’s the day, back in February of 2018, I felt the weakest and the day just a few months later, that I felt the strongest. Thursdays have changed my life. Thank you, Live Action for the work you do, and for taking an interest in my story. To any woman in my shoes, I encourage you and I believe in you. While everything and anything can be against you, there is nothing more important than that innocent, precious, new life. There are beautiful, loving people ready to help, who will become life long, supporting friends even after the baby is born — you just have to click that tab.
“Like” Live Action News on Facebook for more pro-life news and commentary!
