Story 75 - 17.05.2025

"During my pregnancy, I was diagnosed with a virus known to cause severe abnormalities in unborn babies. By the time we received this news, I was already well into my second trimester.

In order to get further clarity, we were told we would need to wait several more weeks for additional testing — all while knowing that if the baby was affected, the damage would likely worsen with time.

The uncertainty, fear, and overwhelming anxiety were unbearable.

We were advised that the chances of our baby being affected were low, but international research and studies showed a far more complicated and serious reality — one where even babies who seem unaffected during pregnancy can be born with life-altering neurological conditions.

Eventually, we made the heartbreaking decision to seek medical care abroad. It was not a choice made lightly. It was made out of deep love — we did not want to bring our child into the world to suffer.

Once abroad, further scans confirmed our fears: our baby had already developed signs of brain abnormalities, including a smaller than normal head. We were told our child would have faced severe neurological issues — possibly blindness, hearing loss, inability to walk, eat, or live independently.

We made the most painful decision of our lives — to carry that suffering ourselves, so that our baby wouldn’t have to.

We said goodbye, and returned home broken.

But what made this unbearable loss even harder was the silence we were forced to keep. In our home country, abortion is completely illegal — even in tragic medical circumstances like ours.

We could not speak to our doctors or community. We felt judged before even opening our mouths. We had to grieve in isolation, without support, without compassion, and without being able to share what truly happened.

No one should have to leave their baby behind in a foreign country. No parent should be denied the chance to say a proper goodbye, or to have a place in their own country to mourn, to remember, and to celebrate the life of the child they loved.

Our baby was deeply wanted. We loved him with every part of us. The pain of this loss is something I carry every day.

But I also carry the added pain of silence, shame, and fear — not because I did something wrong, but because of the way our laws and society treat women like me.

I’m not ready to share my name. But I am sharing my voice — quietly, for now — in the hope that one day, other parents facing heartbreaking diagnoses will not be treated as criminals, but as grieving mothers and fathers doing the best they can for the child they love.

Please let Malta open its heart to families like mine. No one should suffer like this.

Sincerely, A Heartbroken Mother"