I've felt a lot of strong emotions the past couple of weeks. We started swimming lessons on June 17th, 2013. As I was sitting by the pool watching my boys learning and laughing, I felt a deep sense of joy and gratitude. I felt so grateful that I had the strength and energy to drive them to lessons and baseball that week. My body felt sick and weak, but I was able to push through and provide them with opportunities to learn and grow. I take such enjoyment from these practices that seem so common in our culture, but to me they are mountains that I have been blessed to climb. The joy and confidence that I see building in my children is the best motivation to keep pushing. Although its tough at times and they fight in the backseat the whole drive there and back, I am grateful for every moment because the tough times make the good times that much sweeter.
Another task we took on was a Dr appointment last Friday, June 21st. Oh, how I dread them. I always hope I'll know what to say and wonder if he will have some help to offer this time? We have to keep trying, we cant give up even though it feels completely hopeless at this point as it has for so long. I have the following words in vinyl letters on my wall where I can see them many times throughout each day, "Everyday holds the possibility of a miracle." I have to believe that this appointment could bring me closer to that day....
As relieved and grateful as I was a little over a week ago, I was equally devastated and humbled this past week. One thing Ive come to know for sure is that after a cluster of "better" days, come some really debilitating days. Last Sunday, I got slammed and had to leave early from church because I was unable to bear the searing pain spreading through my tail bone and legs any longer. I was unable to sit, stand, or walk. The rest of the week turned out to be even more difficult as the relentless fatigue, cognitive issues, and pain took hold. I was brought down so fast, just like that, no driving, no cleaning, absolutely nothing it seemed, just holding on and getting through it for the past week. How quickly I'm taught that I have absolutely no control over anything, but I have these amazing little men to take care of so I choose to push on and make the most of what I've been given and do the best I can. In spite of it all, I am still so grateful for everything I have and for my beautiful family and life.
Getting back to my story, the events of early 2003 are extremely difficult for me to think about and relive. I hope my experiences will mean something to someone out there and I hope my family will appreciate a record of the events that were so difficult, that helped us to become the family we are today.
By the beginning of 2003 I was experiencing symptoms associated with a difficult pregnancy and managing gestational diabetes. I had my first Braxton hicks contraction right before Christmas 2002 in the middle of wrapping Matt's Christmas presents. I dont know why I remember that, but I do, I was surprised, obviously being my first pregnancy, I had never felt that sensation before. It wasn't a big deal, I just stopped what I was doing and rested and they went away. I had read about these type of contractions, they were normal and I wasnt due until April 1st so I had a while to go.
Over the next couple of months my pregnancy continued as before, fatigue, nausea, vomiting, unquenchable thirst and all that fun pregnancy - gestational diabetes stuff and by March we were starting to think about signing up for a birthing class and planning to get a bag ready for the hospital so that we would be ready to go when the time came. We never had the chance to do either. On March 1st, the Braxton Hicks contractions were coming a couple of minutes apart and they were starting to hurt. We decided to go to the hospital to make sure everything was OK. Upon arriving at the hospital they began monitoring the contractions and the babies vitals. Thankfully the baby was doing well, the contractions were coming a couple of minutes apart, still painful, and I was dilated to a zero, 0% effaced (I don't know. Maybe they told me a 1, just to make me feel better, but basically nothing was happening to suggest real labor.)
I was four and a half weeks early, they told me if I was more than 5 weeks early, there was a strong possibility that the babies lungs wouldn't be developed completely and if I was less than four weeks early the babies lungs would be fine. Between four and five weeks early is a gray area, my Dr. would have to decide what to do. The problem was that my Dr. was out of town so the Dr. on call decided to give me a shot of something (I don't remember what it was called) to stop the contractions. They gave me an injection in my hip and soon after the contractions stopped. They kept us there for a time to see what would happen and within about twenty minutes, the contractions returned as steady as ever. A second injection was given, contractions stopped, a short time later they returned. Finally a third injection was given and we were told three injections was the most they could give so they sent us home. I didn't sleep at all that night because the contractions returned and by the next afternoon, they were so painful that I couldn't stand it anymore. We called the smaller hospital in Meridian, Idaho that we had visited the night before and they sent us to St. Luke's in Boise because it has a neonatal intensive care unit in case the baby's lungs weren't fully developed. The rest of that day brought trauma and heartache I never imagined would ever happen to me or my baby.
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