As I lovingly cradle my baby girl close to my heart, I am in awe of the miracle of miracles that Hashem has bestowed upon us. Although my husband and I struggled with the nisayon of infertility for many years, I always knew deep inside that this moment would come. Nearly ten years of despair, pain, and anguish seem to melt away as I gaze into my baby's deep blue eyes while she squeals in delight. I wonder what took her so very long to get here. I wonder why this very special neshama chose me to be her mother.

I remember that fateful Tuesday morning when I first discovered that our dreams were about to be realized. Even though the wait seemed endless, I knew the salvation would come and Hashem would grant us our deepest desire in the right time. After all, Hashem alone holds the key for children. We are fortunate and blessed to be an adoptive family, but that did not lessen our yearning and desire for biological children.*

Due to my history of infertility and miscarriage, I was considered high-risk. For the next nine months I became a pincushion for frequent blood tests. My hormone levels were monitored weekly and I was on progesterone for the first 20 weeks. Luckily, my midwife, Shari Daniels of the Miami Maternity Center was very gentle and motherly. (Can I ever thank you enough?!) With each visit, we received the "all-clear," and thank G-d, everything progressed smoothly and without complication. Even so, I needed constant support and reassurance from Shari throughout those nine long months. I remember walking around feeling so disconnected. I suppose that after so much disappointment and loss through the years, I was protecting myself from pain. In the brief moments where I let my guard down, I experienced bliss in its truest form. I was overwhelmed with gratitude.

Years ago, I was speaking privately with Rebbetzin Tirtza Schapiro of Miami Beach on the topic of infertility. She offered me a tremendous amount of chizuk and related to me that the Lubavitcher Rebbe said that to have children, you must have mesiras nefesh. With this in mind, my husband and I always sought brochos from tzaddikim. So, under the directive of the Biala Rebbe shlita in Bnei Brak, who has been our guide in these matters, we kept our wonderful news very quiet to avoid ayin hara. It was only in private that my husband and I took pleasure in chatting about different names we thought would be appropriate for the little bundle. Since both of my husband’s parents - and my father - were niftar, it seemed like there were plenty of names to choose from. But I felt a tremendous need to add an additional name that would commemorate this remarkable event. It was no coincidence that I was due a week before Pesach, the holiday in which we celebrate our nation's freedom. It was readily apparent to us that this would be the time for us to rejoice in our own personal geulah from the nisayon we had been enduring for so long.

My husband and I arrived at the birth center just two days shy of my due date. A sudden feeling of calmness came over me. I felt peacefully enveloped in Hashem's arms, all safe and secure, as the long, bumpy road of infertility was finally coming to an end. Part of me still could not believe that I had come this far. What was only in my dreams for so long was now becoming reality. The geulah would be here at any moment. As each wave of pain threatened to blow me over, my thoughts focused on our virtuous Imahos. I wondered, after years of childlessness, what thoughts and feelings they had experienced during labor. Was the pain greeted with a joyous heart? After all, I pondered, what is greater--the pain of childbirth or the pain of emptiness? My thoughts also turned to the countless couples still experiencing the nisayon of infertility, and I pleaded with Hashem to end their suffering. Some 26 hours later, on Shabbos afternoon at around 3 p.m., our beautiful baby girl entered this world.

Chasdei Hashem.

She weighed in at 7 pounds, 12 ounces and measured 19.5 inches long. Her golden, strawberry-blonde hair resembled her Abba's. She had my blue eyes. I counted ten little fingers and ten little toes. She was here at last--and she was perfect. I held her tightly in my arms, promising never to let go. This was my priceless gift from Hashem, and I would cherish her always.

The diagnosis did not come right away. Though Shari, our midwife, knew almost immediately that something was amiss, she allowed my husband and me to bond with our new baby without interruption. At long last, our hopes and dreams were realized. My husband and I connected on a new level. We enjoyed the peacefulness of Shabbos as never before, with Hershel singing songs of gratefulness to the Ribono Shel Olam. (In the months preceding her birth, I had often walked to Bais Menachem on Shabbos afternoon to listen in on the seder nigunim between mincha and maariv. I wanted my unborn child to hear it. Now, she seemed to react to the same nigunim she had heard in utero. Her eyes opened wide with a mixture of interest and alertness; she listened intently.)

Shari checked in on us often, monitoring the newborn constantly. Little did I know this was not routine. I kept hearing words like "low muscle tone" and "weak cry," but I thought nothing of it. Hashem, in His kindness, sheltered me temporarily from the devastation that was to come. My husband and I, with our new bundle, left the birthing center on Motzoei Shabbos shortly after reciting havdalah. We drove home in a glorious mood, leaving years of hurt behind us, more than ready to embark on the blissful journey that lay ahead. We had no idea that we were about to travel from one difficult nisayon to another.

The following morning, on Sunday, the midwife came to my home to check on the baby and me. We were both doing well, although I expressed concerns with her feeding difficulties. The baby was very sleepy and had a hard time nursing. Nonetheless, Shari encouraged me to continue nursing and taught me a few tricks to wake the baby for feedings. It was then that she tenderly expressed her concerns regarding the baby's health. In the privacy of my own home, Shari told my husband and me that it was likely our baby had Down Syndrome. Since not all of the characteristics were present, she suggested we take the baby for chromosomal testing and arranged for us to see her pediatrician the next day.

It was Monday morning - the day of the baby's naming by the Torah. After consulting with the Biala Rebbe, shlita, we named our baby Chava Gittel Peryl. My husband's mother was Peryl, an outstanding woman with tremendous middos. His great-grandmother was Gittel, a chasidishe woman of valor. The Biala Rebbe added the name Chava to give extra strength to the baby. Being that Hashem Himself created Chava, who was complete both in body and spirit, so too would our baby be healthy and whole in all facets. Chava was also the name of the grand Biala Rebbetzin, who had lived a long and fruitful life. All this would be a z’chus for our little Chava'la. The rabbi of Bais Menachem and our personal Rav, Rabbi Yossi Marlow, pointed out that the roshei taivos of her name, Chava Gittel Peryl, are the same as "ChaG haPesach" which was the auspicious time of her birth.

Later that day, baby Chava began showing symptoms of a heart condition fairly common in children with Down Syndrome. Before the day's end, we were in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) of Miami Children's Hospital, surrounded by a team of knowledgeable specialists and compassionate nurses.

As the news of her condition was being conveyed to me, I sat, rocking my newborn in my arms, gently stroking her delicate body. Careful not to pull on any of the wires and tubes connected to her, I looked down at my baby as my thoughts drifted away, desperately trying to find a place of reason. How am I going to handle this? I wondered if this was all one big joke, maybe a dream, or perhaps a nightmare? Did I really have a baby after so many years of barrenness? I'm only in my twenties, isn’t that too young to have a baby with Down Syndrome? Somebody please pinch me. Am I really traveling from one tough nisayon to another?

There was nothing for me to say; I simply had no words. As tears trickled down my cheeks, I thought of how this small, helpless baby had been so safe in my womb, nestled in Hashem's protection. How would I safeguard her now?

This past year has flown by and we recently celebrated Chava's first birthday (on the 7th of Nissan). So much has been achieved; so much good has been revealed. Chava is the sweetest little girl, and her smile brightens our life with so much joy. She brings pure happiness to all those around her. We believe that more than Chava came into our lives to learn, she came to teach. Chava shows us the true meaning of unconditional love and joy.

For months before Chava's birth, I envisioned my husband and myself being a source of chizuk to people dealing with their own personal nisyonos. We would tell them that whatever challenge Hashem has hand picked for them, their salvation would come, just like ours had! After her birth and the diagnosis, I realized that Hashem had an even greater message for us to share. Despite the challenges, despite the difficulties, accept the ratzon of Hashem with simcha. This is no easy task, trust me, I know! But I try to remember that simcha breaks all barriers - simcha poretz geder.

My husband and I are fairly new at this nisayon--Hashem should not test us further. We are still absorbing the full effect of Chava's diagnosis and the changes that it brings into our life. Certainly, we are not in a position to give advice to others. I can only share with you the attitude that is helping us cope with the challenges. For us, Down Syndrome is just a diagnosis. We do not give much credence to the predictions or prejudices about children with Down Syndrome. Many attend regular schools and are able to read, write, learn skills, excel, hold down jobs, and get married. With s’yata d’shmaya and a great deal of determination, all of these things are attainable for Chava--we have no doubt! Think good and it will be good. Having a positive attitude makes all the difference. This is extremely important for Chava, because people react to her based on our reactions. We strongly believe that no goal is too great for Chava to achieve, and we set no limits on her. With Hashem's help, with the love and support of our family and community, and with her remarkable therapists (thank you, Kidz Connection!), Chava will surely reach her greatest potential.

I cannot possibly begin to understand the actions of Hashem. Nonetheless, I have emunah that everything that comes from Him is ultimately good. The message in the verse from tehillim has always carried me through tough times. May it be the will of Hashem that we all use our nisyonos as tools to bring us closer to Hashem (which is what they are intended to be), and in the z’chus of our precious children, may we all merit to experience the true geulah of Moshiach now.

A very special thank you to the Biala Rebbe, shlita, to my midwife Shari Daniels and her capable staff, to our immediate family, to my mashpia, to Mr. Yona Lunger (who translated between us and the Biala Rebbe throughout, and in other ways facilitated the relationship) and to our extended family -- the North Miami Beach community – for their endless love and unwavering support. My husband and I are especially grateful to Rabbi Yossi & Rebbetzin Chana Marlow, shluchim of the Rebbe in North Miami Beach, Florida, for all of their guidance and chessed towards us over the years, and especially through our miraculous journey. The Marlows lead the Bais Menachem kehillah magnificently, and are pillars of the community. They have touched the lives of so many! In our time of need, the Marlows were there to hold things together for us. They graciously opened their home to Reena and showered her with love during the days just before Pesach that we spent with Chava in the NICU. They spent countless hours cooking, and arranging meals and other necessities (as well as some luxuries) for our family. Even though it was Erev Pesach, they always found the time, energy and financial resources to provide whatever was needed, and with a smile. (They even sent their own personal cleaning lady to prepare my home for me!) By doing all this - and so much more - the Marlows gave us the chance to catch our breath and transition into our new nisayon with a clear mind and accepting heart. They continue to be a main source of chizuk for us. May the Ahavas Yisroel we felt from all these people hasten the arrival of Moshiach speedily in our days.

To my dear Mother - you are my rock, my source of strength. Through difficult times you have persevered with complete emunah and a joyful heart. You have overcome challenges with strength, dignity and grace. From the depths of my heart, I thank you for always supporting me and for setting an example by being a true servant of Hashem. May the Ribono Shel Olam grant you long days and years in good health and may your children and grandchildren always be a source of chasidishe nachas to you.

V'ani b'chasdecha botachti yogeil libi biyshuosecha oshirah L'Hashem ki gomal olai
(Tehilim 13)

And as for me, I trusted in Your kindness; my heart will rejoice in Your salvation; I will sing to Hashem for He has dealt kindly with me
(Tehillim 13)

Reprinted with permission from N’shei Chabad Newsletter. To subscribe, email nsheinewsletter@yahoo.com

Hershel, Josephine, Reena, and Chava Basher live in North Miami Beach, Florida.

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