Monday, August 5, 2013

The trial through the blessing



       A year ago today I was sitting in a hospital bed, bored, scared, and confused.  My water had broken 6 1/2 weeks early and I didn't know why or how.  It was a long way from where we started with our plan to have our baby at home.  Nothing with this pregnancy had gone according to plan, this pregnancy wasn't even planned.
      I had started on some fertility meds in July about two years ago, I kept on them until October, when I found out that there was a 6 year old boy who was available for adoption, I immediately stopped taking them. By November we had our little boy home with us and getting pregnant was far from my thoughts but by January I noticed that things didn't seem quite right so I took a pregnancy test.  When I saw the little plus sign, I was shocked!  I showed my husband and in a panic he yelled "Please tell me what it says, I can't read those things!"  I told him and he just started laughing, and laughing, and laughing.  Eventually, he came up for air and said that God obviously had a sense of humor.  We loved our son more than I can explain but bringing a child into your home who has trauma issues and does not know how to be parented is not easy.......to say the least.
     I wish I could say that the next few months went by with patience and ease, but I can't.  At 8 weeks, I had a "threatened miscarriage" I had been so sick for a few weeks that I hadn't really gotten out of bed much or kept any food down.  I dropped quite a bit of weight, quite quickly.  I didn't even notice the intense cramping over the nausea, I was at the store (trying to just get moving around to see if that helped me feel better) around lots of people when I realized that I was bleeding, and it was no small amount.  I rushed to the bathroom, once I had cleaned up as best I could, I (for some low blood sugar, half panic, completely confused reason) got in the check out line!  After I loaded my groceries in the car, and the bleeding hadn't stopped, I called my husband.  I frantically started trying to figure out where the nearest hospital was because I didn't want to drive too far, I was getting dizzy, and shaking uncontrollably.  He pointed out that there was one across the street.  The next 7 hours were awful but my baby was alive and healthy.  I read an article the other night about a woman who miscarried, I cried the whole way through it.  She pointed out just how bad of an experience it is at the hospital while all this is happening and how you have no idea what's going on or when the nightmare will be over.  After I finished reading the article to Teal, he had an almost grieved expression and said "We really do have a miracle baby" 
     I was placed on bed rest for a few weeks, which was fine with me, I had a hard time standing anyway, without getting sick.  They gave me some nausea meds, which took some time to really work but eventually I was eating 3 meals a day.  This pregnancy was more uncomfortable than my first and the high emotions of parenting a newly adopted child with the raised emotions of being pregnant were so hard to deal with.  As crazy as it sounds, I did love being pregnant, and I did love having our son home. I took videos of my moving belly, waited in anticipation of a little kick, both "big kids" would greet me by rubbing my belly and always wanted to lay their heads on it to talk to him.
     In and amongst all this, my husband and I were leading our youth group, the kids were great, they loved our kids, they were excited about me being pregnant and couldn't wait to meet the little guy.  We took them on a camping trip when I was 34 weeks, which I had cleared with my doctor.  It was a good trip, sleeping (mostly) on an air mattress, kayaking, and cooking for 24 people over the fire pit were all hard but not impossible.  When we got home I was exhausted, my feet were SO swollen, and my back hurt.  So I just laid down, I spent 3 days trying to stay on the couch, feet up, the kids "waiting" on me.
      Other than the aches I felt fine but just after I kissed Teal goodbye on August 3rd, my water broke (as I was trying to get back to sleep) I got up and it just kept coming, cleaned up and went back to sit on my bed (new pajama pants and all)  and more came.  I called my mom.  It was 2 a.m. there but she answered and calmed me down a bit, she started looking for flights.  I took a shower, installed the carseat, packed my bag, woke the kids, got them dressed and fed, then got in the car to drop the kids off at my sister in law's and on to the hospital.  Where I would sit. For 3 days. Just sit.  I was on antibiotics (for the second time in my adult life, needless to say I wasn't very happy about this) and steroids for the baby, hoping to speed up his lung development.  We were "ready" for him to come or to wait it out. In trying to conserve time off, Teal hadn't taken any days off yet.  But I did have 2 friends come up to visit, which was nice, broke up the day a bit.  On the wee hours on the 6th, I started having contractions, I had to wake Teal up (who had, thankfully, decided to stay that night) and Davis was born just after the sun came up.   He was perfect, precious, and unbelievably tiny.
      At 4lbs 8oz, he was the tiniest baby I'd ever seen but he was seemingly too strong for his size, I felt like he should have felt more fragile.  After an hour of my husband and me holding him they found that he really wasn't holding his temperature, they decided to put him in an incubator, I was so scared, I didn't know what to do and all the information I found about about preemies at his age were just about what the hospital would do, not alternatives.  He spend 9 days in there, ended up with a feeding tube because he was taking too long to eat and would be out of the box longer than they were comfortable with.  I protested, but in a room full of people who deal with preemies every day, what do you say, what do you do, who do you ask?  In the end he was healthy, spits up at every meal, sometimes 4 or 5 times but developing and healthy.  Those 9 days seemed endless, it was far from our house, so I stayed there, in an extra room. Besides Teal and my mom with the kids, I had two visitors, I had no car, nothing was within walking distance, and I could only be gone for 2 1/2 hours at a time.  When we were discharged, I was SO intent on leaving that I almost yelled at my mom.
     At about week 3, we had colic. We didn't sleep.  Not until about December.  When he turned that corner, he was a different kid.  He was happy, amazingly happy, almost all of the time.  Now he is hilarious, always willing to give a smile, trying to walk, and saying "Daddy" (no Mommy yet).  He is our miracle baby.   Tomorrow, he turns one.  I am excited, grieved, and relieved all at the same time.  This boy has survived, he has thrived, and he has put his mommy through a lot of stress but every time he sees me, he smiles, every time, he smiles such a genuine "I love you, Mommy!" smile that my heart sings.  God knew that I needed to be softened, I still do, He is using this boy to soften this mommy's heart.  Maybe someday his brothers and sisters will thank him ;)  

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