My 2nd son is a quiet small sweet child. He just turned 4, loves sleep, and rarely rarely does his voice go above what people would call an inside voice. He is an amazing blessing to our family (as are all of our children) and we are grateful for every moment he's here.
When I was pregnant with him I suffered from HELLP that presented as only severe migraines until my 3rd trimester. To make a long story short I ended up admitted to the hospital with him at 33 weeks 0 days and they were unable to get my blood pressure down after several attempts and my husband was told it was deliver him then or I wouldn't make it. He was born by emergency cesarean weighing 3 lbs 5 oz. He was whisked away surrounded by hospital people and I didn't get to even see him until he was more then 24 hours old.
When you're released from the hospital after having a baby it's supposed to be a joyous occasion. Getting the carseat in for the first time, finally getting to use all those teeny tiny baby clothes you washed, hung up, and stared at for weeks before. When you're released from the hospital weeks before your child there is nothing but pain in those items and emptiness in your home.
I held on hope. Hope to what they tell most NICU parents: "babies usually come home around their due date". All I had to do was hold on and wait and wait for that magical day on the calendar and I'd finally get to take my baby home with us.
And that day finally came! It was a long journey to there and up until recently the most painful thing I've ever walked through. But he came home! Him and his very very tiny self.
When we found out our fourth son no longer had a heartbeat and and was delivered at a little under 18 weeks. That due date... That useless number you're given when the egg timer of pregnancy goes off and your "done"... Well it became more of an endless source of pain. Instead of being the day our baby should come home by; it is the day our baby should have been here but wasn't. There's no hope in numbers and dates.
This is where I'd insert my ultra picture or some evidence that my son existed but I have none. There is nothing but the pain and emptiness of this day.
RSS Feed (xml)