Post by missingjack on Apr 7, 2020 17:04:27 GMT
My little miracle baby, thought I couldn't get pregnant, neither my husband or I had kids from previous relationships both 36, had been together almost 10 years, never not trying.
I was so shocked in fact that I didn't even figure it out until almost 15 weeks in. My pregnancy was brutal, there was so much getting ready stress, financial stress, health scares with my bp, but also an enormous amount of excitement along side with an it's this really real. I got hit with every side effect in the book, my "glow" was rage red. My body was miserable my anxiety was out of control, but I was so excited, I think I would play off my excitement just bc I didn't want to jinx anything. My beautiful little boy came on 12/26/19 a month earlier than initially planned. Oh and while having my emergency csection I asked for a tubal, trying to be responsible, we hadn't been saving for college funds or supporting an additional human, plus I was 36 everything on my body hurt and pregnancy have me everything it could including extreme high blood pressure. Even with my husband's insurance I qualified for pregnancy Medicaid, thank goodness, so honestly I was so over the moon with having one little boy to love on forever and venture through life with, I never dreamed I would be where I am now.
Born Dec 26th, since he was an early bird, he did have to spend a few days in the NICU, then a few days working on gaining and feeding in special care. But this boy was amazing, he looked like a doll, just perfect, we were there everyday even though we were all exhausted and then finally the big day came! It was the best and most terrifying Saturday ever, suddenly we were taking him home, he was officially our responsibility, home grown tiny human to love forever. I think I felt real purpose for the first time in my life. I was so excited, still amazed everytime I saw him, thinking about his future and prayed that he would love me as much as I did him. 4 weeks later, just as my husband and I were getting used to the schedule, eat, change diapers, change more, change clothes, laundry, pump, feed, try to sneak in a little sleep here and there. Sleep when the baby sleeps they said, back is best, sheet only, make sure someone sleeps in the room with him to prevent likelyhood of SIDs, recover from surgery, watch out for postpartum. That was our schedule for a magical 4 weeks, then once morning I went down for a nap, husband asleep in his room with the chair, monitor beside me. I wake up almost 3 hours later to my husband running in the bedroom 911 on the line baby unresponsive. Suddenly I'm giving cpr to my tiny son, moving on nothing but adrenaline, EMT's rush my house, we follow. SIDS. What the f@$%? Why is this a thing? How is undecided/undetermined okay to write on my babies death certificate? Why me? Why are there not doctor's solving this problem. I've been so unlucky my whole life, how did I possibly have one of the 4000 babies a year that die from this? Why did I even get pregnant after all these years? Why is all I can wish for night and day now knowing how miserable it was for me? Why did I try to do the responsible thing and get a tubal while I had the financial help instead of just assuming that things were going to continue to run in my life as always, terribly? Anyhow, it's a very lonely spot to be. I'm quarantined with an empty nursery. I'm writing baby funeral thank you cards. Hell, I'm sharing a GoFundMe that breaks my heart everytime I see it and I'm sure makes my "friends" want to avoid me and this gut wrenching topic. This was supposed to be our good year, finally! Instead, on top of a world wide pandemic we did every single thing by the book to ensure his safety and still had him taken from us, in spite of all the kids getting pregnant before they're ready or adults with no interest in the children they have, CPS cases everywhere. I'm angry, sad and lost. I got enough time with my baby to hold and him feed him and name him, but didn't get to see his first smile or hear him call me mom. It just doesn't feel like I even got to be a parent.
I was so shocked in fact that I didn't even figure it out until almost 15 weeks in. My pregnancy was brutal, there was so much getting ready stress, financial stress, health scares with my bp, but also an enormous amount of excitement along side with an it's this really real. I got hit with every side effect in the book, my "glow" was rage red. My body was miserable my anxiety was out of control, but I was so excited, I think I would play off my excitement just bc I didn't want to jinx anything. My beautiful little boy came on 12/26/19 a month earlier than initially planned. Oh and while having my emergency csection I asked for a tubal, trying to be responsible, we hadn't been saving for college funds or supporting an additional human, plus I was 36 everything on my body hurt and pregnancy have me everything it could including extreme high blood pressure. Even with my husband's insurance I qualified for pregnancy Medicaid, thank goodness, so honestly I was so over the moon with having one little boy to love on forever and venture through life with, I never dreamed I would be where I am now.
Born Dec 26th, since he was an early bird, he did have to spend a few days in the NICU, then a few days working on gaining and feeding in special care. But this boy was amazing, he looked like a doll, just perfect, we were there everyday even though we were all exhausted and then finally the big day came! It was the best and most terrifying Saturday ever, suddenly we were taking him home, he was officially our responsibility, home grown tiny human to love forever. I think I felt real purpose for the first time in my life. I was so excited, still amazed everytime I saw him, thinking about his future and prayed that he would love me as much as I did him. 4 weeks later, just as my husband and I were getting used to the schedule, eat, change diapers, change more, change clothes, laundry, pump, feed, try to sneak in a little sleep here and there. Sleep when the baby sleeps they said, back is best, sheet only, make sure someone sleeps in the room with him to prevent likelyhood of SIDs, recover from surgery, watch out for postpartum. That was our schedule for a magical 4 weeks, then once morning I went down for a nap, husband asleep in his room with the chair, monitor beside me. I wake up almost 3 hours later to my husband running in the bedroom 911 on the line baby unresponsive. Suddenly I'm giving cpr to my tiny son, moving on nothing but adrenaline, EMT's rush my house, we follow. SIDS. What the f@$%? Why is this a thing? How is undecided/undetermined okay to write on my babies death certificate? Why me? Why are there not doctor's solving this problem. I've been so unlucky my whole life, how did I possibly have one of the 4000 babies a year that die from this? Why did I even get pregnant after all these years? Why is all I can wish for night and day now knowing how miserable it was for me? Why did I try to do the responsible thing and get a tubal while I had the financial help instead of just assuming that things were going to continue to run in my life as always, terribly? Anyhow, it's a very lonely spot to be. I'm quarantined with an empty nursery. I'm writing baby funeral thank you cards. Hell, I'm sharing a GoFundMe that breaks my heart everytime I see it and I'm sure makes my "friends" want to avoid me and this gut wrenching topic. This was supposed to be our good year, finally! Instead, on top of a world wide pandemic we did every single thing by the book to ensure his safety and still had him taken from us, in spite of all the kids getting pregnant before they're ready or adults with no interest in the children they have, CPS cases everywhere. I'm angry, sad and lost. I got enough time with my baby to hold and him feed him and name him, but didn't get to see his first smile or hear him call me mom. It just doesn't feel like I even got to be a parent.