“The name Arielle is a girl's name of French origin meaning "lion of God".
I saw that on Jeopardy one night while pregnant with her.

Her due date was poetic, 8-8-2018. Her astrological sign, Leo. My husband and I met at a university where Leo the Lion was the mascot. We met in the month of August 2005, were engaged in August 2011, and wed in August 2012. August 8th is my best friend's birthday. My husband and I felt blessed and saw signs everywhere that our years of infertility struggles were over and our dream of starting a family was coming true after 6 years of trying!

At the 10 week ultrasound, the doctor told me they could not get a good look at the baby's legs. It seemed innocent enough, but I sensed their hesitation to say much to me when they asked me to come back the following week. I went crazy with worry over what it could be. I asked another doctor who mentioned it could just be Clubfoot. I remember looking in the mirror, sobbing, as I pounded my fists on the bathroom counter, enraged at the thought that my lil miracle might have something wrong. I knew I was getting the runaround.

After more testing, we learned that our baby had a rare genetic mutation called Fatal Skeletal Dysplasia and could not survive. Even if it went full term, it wouldn't be able to breathe once born. And we had to decide whether to continue the pregnancy.

I will never forget how that doctor hugged me and cried with us and how she broke the news that our baby was a girl.

For 5 weeks I had to wait and continue working. I don't remember much. My memory goes dark there. I was a zombie as I scheduled time off for the procedure and bereavement.

I was told that while it was an actual abortion that I needed, I should tell everyone I had a miscarriage. That really stung. I was told to lie to people, because our society is so messed up that I would inevitably be judged for this decision, which I really had no choice but to make.

 Sometimes women don't learn of these genetic mutations until much later in their pregnancy. I was actually lucky to find out early on, yet 10 weeks was the earliest they could have found it and it took another 2 weeks to complete testing and another few weeks to get scheduled at the hospital.

At 15 weeks gestation, the size of an apple, we said goodbye.

When I awoke in the hospital afterward, I sobbed uncontrollably with my husband. The doctor's asked if I was suicidal before putting me under anesthesia, and although I wasn't, it was the closest I had ever felt to it. I wasn't pregnant anymore, just hollow and empty.

I said to my husband that it felt trite to refer to her as "the baby we lost", so I asked if we could name her Arielle, since she was now God's lion.”