Today we have a guest post from Molly Volker. Molly is a pro-woman advocate who treasures opportunities to bring hope to the hopeless. She endeavors to bring light to dark places with the help of her heavenly child Nora (whose name means light). Anchored by her faith, as a wife and mother of four, she balances both the fullness of family life and a full time work schedule. Being a Minnesota native she loves spending time with her family exploring the 10,000 lakes by snowshoeing and ice skating, as well as camping and swimming when Mother Nature permits it. 
Sometimes life can feel predictable and within our control. Sometimes the everyday gets mundane and we fall into a routine that can suck the wonder and imagination and joy out of life. Then, if you are blessed, life throws you a curve ball and you are forced into a state of grace where you take life second by second standing  in awe of the miracles that surround us daily. This is a story of our journey, our life with Nora. It’s a story of resurrection, of freedom, of profound joy amidst suffering and most of all, it’s a story about hope.

Molly and her husband.

Molly and her husband.


My husband and I led a charmed life by all standards. We married young, were over-the-moon in love with each other, had good jobs and a life we loved. Three years into our marriage,  we had our first beautiful daughter, Evie, who absolutely rocked our world but for the better. Our little family fell even more in love together. As we felt we wanted to open our doors to more children, we took a very controlled and deliberate approach. We wanted a sibling for our child and we wanted to grow our family in a timely fashion. After one month of trying we found ourselves easily pregnant again and happy.
The day of our ultrasound appointment, we were struggling to get out the door. We were last-minute-frantic-hollering and trying to get Evie dressed, feeling stressed by the timeline to get there. Hassled with the moment, I almost ended up going alone. We weren’t going to find out the gender, so this was just our chance to get a sneak peek and say HI to the next Volker family member. I remember laying on the table feeling like the technician was so serious … Maybe it was because he was male or maybe he didn’t really care about little babies I thought. After the ultrasound we waited a frustratingly long time for our OB/GYN  to come in for our appointment. When she did, she looked grim. She told us about all of the parts of our child’s body that looked good and then said, “but the heart doesn’t look great. The left side looks a little small. It could be nothing but we will have to run more tests. This was a great catch by the technician; these things are very hard to see. Can you come back on Monday for more tests?”
I distinctly remember my world shifting. With those simple words, our reality veered a screeching 180° and it would never go back.
We went home feeling devastated and confused. Why us? Once we got home, Google revealed our worst nightmares coming true. Kids with Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome undergo three harrowing surgeries… if they make it through all of them. They are limited in their activity level for their whole life. They ultimately need heart transplants which are unpredictable and scary. Basically we would be very likely to outlive this child. And our life with this new child would be significantly altered.
What I was reading online and what the baby inside me was doing didn’t match up. How could this vivacious child inside me that moved and bumped and thumped and twirled happily be so fragile? I could sense her strength. I could feel her determination. She seemed so eager to live. Speaking to me from the womb she encouraged me and reassured me. Everything was going to be ok. I remember turning to my husband at night declaring, “This child is going to save us somehow. She is going to save us from ourselves.”
We went back on Monday, full of hope, for more testing. We decided to find out the gender because we wanted to know our little one as well as possible for as long as possible. She was a she! After looking at the results, our Perinatologist came in and told us our daughter had a “floppy leg” and the heart did look small on the left side, confirming our worst fears … that this wasn’t all just a big mistake. There was also an additional concern of a genetic mutation like Downs or Trisomy, so he then said we should get an amniocentesis ASAP to confirm because then we could have an abortion if we wanted. Wait, a what?! My mind exploded, this child moving around that was so real to us and so treasured by our whole family, this child that was encouraging me and leading me forward could be…. I instantly said ‘no’ and the Doctor’s urgency went away.
It took a bit for this new reality to sink in and for us to process what just happened. As we got in the car to leave the clinic, my husband and I looked at each other with a hesitant realization and a new shared understanding. We suddenly understood why people would choose to end life. Here we were left with a myriad of unknowns. Our future, our ability to plan and prepare, or own psyches were bending trying to picture this scary new mysterious future. We both felt enormous empathy for the women and the families that chose the abortion. At least that way, they would have control over the story and they would know how it would end.
For the first time we understood the decision to end life completely in that moment and it was an alarmingly appealing option. We had so many questions, would she live for an hour, or a year, or 10 or 30 years? Would she have severe genetic abnormalities? Would she ever smile and be happy? Would we be able to be good parents to her? Would we be able to love a child that didn’t look “normal”? Would our marriage be able to handle the weight of the blessed burden of the unknown? Could we do this? We didn’t know the answer to our questions and they scared us. At least, if we had an abortion, we would know how the story would end and when it would end. There would be relief with knowing, or so we thought. It would be sad either way. BUT we were raised by life-loving parents in a life-loving and supporting community with a ton of friends and family and support. So our decision held fast.
We knew whatever this child would bring, she was going to bless us more than we could ever imagine. We knew if this road was going to be hard, it was going to be sacred. I heard her desire to live and I felt her strength and courage. We had to give her a chance. So we said ‘yes’ to her and to the Divine Plan and flung ourselves helplessly into Big Love’s arms.