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October 01, 2005

Our Summer on the Roller Coaster

[Ed. note: This was taken from my 'blog' on the March of Dimes Web site from August 1 of this year - hopefully it will give you an idea of how things started with our Yankee Doodle Daisy.]

I think I'll start at the very beginning. All of my life I have been a bigger girl, chubby, husky (I hate this word), plus size, etc. Last year I decided, along with Paul, that it was time to start taking care of myself and get healthy. We started in February, Paul dieting along with me, and by the end of the year I had lost 80 pounds and Paul had lost 55 - I was in the best shape of my life! I was working out regularly, eating right, and in the midst of all this, my "cycle" became regular.

Well, long story short, since I was more regular we both decided it was time to try and have a lil one. We had been married over five years, felt very stable in our lives and really wanted to share it with a child. For a few months we really tried, me counting days, and taking temps, but nada, nothing. It started to take the fun out of getting pregnant in the first place if you know what I mean, so I decided it was time to just let things take their course. Last Christmas we went to Vegas, and bada bing bada boom, I was pregnant.

My pregnancy couldn't have been more textbook, and trust me, I read EVERY book out there. I had terrible morning sickness, gained the right amount of weight for each check up, worked out the right way, anything I could do to stay healthy and keep our bundle healthy as well.

Well, around the 26th week of prenancy, actually the night of my 32nd birthday, Paul and I were at a hotel - he was taking me to Milwaukee for a 4D ultrasound, it was my birthday gift. Around 5am on June 18 I woke up covered in fluid, just drenched. Me, the hotel bed, everything. I got up, praying for a bladder infection - heck, that my bladder had exploded, anything but what I knew in my heart it was. I went to the bathroom and fluid trickled down my legs - I left a little trail to the bathroom. I called the hospital and they told me to get to the ER. It was one of the longest rides of my life.

When we got there the docs checked me and my cervix was still completely closed. They monitored me for 6 hours on an NST, and the baby appeared not to be in any distress, an ultrasound showed that she had enough fluid inside to be okay and was doing just fine. They told me at this point I would spend the rest of my pregnancy in bed there at the hospital.

It was very hard for me to accept that I wouldn't be able to do all of the things I had been doing - I don't know that it really dawned on me that there was a bigger danger in all of this. I cried a lot on bed rest, I was lonely, I was scared and looking back, I was really frustrated. What did I do wrong? I did everything right!!!

The docs kept telling us that I needed to make it to week 28, that they were pretty sure if she came out at 26 she'd be "ok." I was allowed to shower and use the rest room on my own, and they also let me take 20 minute wheel chair rides. I was able to keep from going into labor for 2 weeks exactly, then on July 3, 2005, Daisy Eileen made her grand entrance into the world.

She weighed 2.8 pounds, was 15 1/4 inches long, squeaked, cried and pee'd on the doctor right away. I saw her for a few seconds before she was whisked away to the NICU. For some strange reason, after giving birth, I felt so great. I was so positive that she would be okay, and I was proud of myself for delivering her vaginally with no drugs. I was excited, the fear really didn't creep in until two days later.

That night we were able to see her, she was on the vent (she only needed the vent for about 18 hours) - she was laying on the warming bed, resting, and she took my breath away. She was lovely and pink, covered in white/blond hair and had huge eyes.

This Wednesday (August 3) she will be one month old, and I can't believe what all has taken place. She is now 3.14 pounds, 16 inches long and they are working on getting her off of the supplemental 02. I hate the word "spells" and never thought the letter's A or B would bring such dread. She is the poopy queen of the NICU, leaving as the nurses call them "the mother of all poops" throughout the day. I love her so much, I never thought my heart could feel so full and be afraid at the same time. Each day brings news blessings, whether it's a little blink of those giant blue eyes or a session of five sneezes... God is good to us.

I have gone on and on long enough for now, but I wanted to finish on one note. When I first came to the MOD site and was so scared and feeling alone, another member said something that has resonated with me since then. She said, "God picks the parents of preemies out very carefully."

Posted by sam at October 1, 2005 04:57 PM in Daisy rant

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