Today is my daughter's birthday. She's twenty-seven today. I know everyone says, "It seems like only yesterday.....blah blah..." but hey, it really does seem like only yesterday that I was told she was going to have to be delivered early because I had developed toxemia during my pregnancy. They tried to induce labor but I just didn't progress that way, so they decided to do a C-Section. I was only eight months pregnant but they said because of the toxemia being so bad, she was probably not even as developed as a 8 month fetus should be. I was twenty-one years old and scared. I was afraid of the surgery, afraid of being put to sleep, afraid she wouldn't be ok. I miscarried the first pregnancy and knew I couldn't live through losing this baby too.
Well they wheeled me into the operating room, and before they put me to sleep, the OB said they needed to get me to sign papers saying they could transfer her to another hospital at birth to a neonatal ICU. He informed me he "just didn't think she was going to do well." I asked when they would take her. She said immediately. I asked, "Before I even get to see her?" And he said yes, it would have to be immediately.
So I went to sleep, and it seemed like only minutes later, I woke up in recovery. The first thing I asked was what did I have? And they told me it was a girl. I asked how long ago she was born and they said two hours. Then I said, "Where is she?" They said they didn't know, but could go find out if I wanted them to. I practically screamed, "GO FIND OUT!" After a while they came back and told me she was still at this hospital. I finally breathed a sigh of relief. I knew if she had been critical, she would have been moved to the other hospital by then, so she must be ok.
The first time I got to see her, they brought her to me all swaddled in a tiny blanket, with only her face showing. I knew immediately she was mine. She had been crying but she stopped when I took her.
I was curious. I wanted to see her fingers and toes, etc, so I decided to unwrap her. About the time I got the blanket pulled back, this big ugly nurse rushes into the room yelling at me for unwrapping her. She reminded me that the baby had to stay warm. They rushed her back to the nursery and I cried that I had done something wrong to the baby.
Those tears were only the first. I cried for the first six months of her life, scared everytime she cried that I was doing something wrong. At first, my mom would call and I would be crying and she would tell me how it was normal and called the "baby blues" and things would get better. Then later she would just call and tell me I had to stop that. ha. I just wanted to be a good mommy and I just didn't think I could do it all right.
Somehow she survived. She developed normally, despite all my OB's dire predictions about abnormal development being possible. She walked early, talked early, and was and is the smartest kid you've ever met (so are her brothers).
When she graduated from high school, she made a speech for her senior class and she looked so poised up there. Then when I stood and watched her get married, I cried again like a baby.
I am so proud of the woman she's become.
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