I remember my pregnancy happened in stages. There was stage 1, which was when I took the pregnancy test. Then stage 2 was having to wait until the first Dr.'s appointment. Seeing my baby for the first time. Seeing that little heart fluttering away on the screen was one of the best moments of my life. Stage 3 was waiting A WHOLE month before going back to the Dr.'s again, this time in hopes of hearing that little heart beat. When we heard nothing, my heart sank. It felt like the world stopped spinning. But, thankfully, all we needed was another ultrasound to see that same heart, still fluttering away. It was at 16 weeks that I finally heard my child's heart beating. So fast, and rhythmic. The best sound I have ever heard. Stage 4 was the BIG ultrasound. Laying with my belly slightly protruding and my bladder about to burst. Looking at every tiny inch of my child inside me. Nervous, excited, apprehensive, and most importantly, happy. Trying to pry any information I could out of the ultrasound technician. Looking for signs of reassurance. Finally, a week later, our Dr. told us everything looked great. We were truly blessed.
Stage 5, was when I woke up at 22 weeks pregnant and realized I was bleeding. Yet again, the world stopped spinning, my heart stopped and slowly fell into the pit of my stomach. The ride to the hospital felt as though it took 2 hours, when it was only a 20 minute ride. Once there, I couldn't figure out why no one was in a panic. Then I realized, if there was something wrong, there was nothing that could be done anyway. Again, we were blessed and it appeared to be nothing but a shift in the placenta. A tiny tear, so fragile and yet so strong.
Stage 6 is feeling my child push my body to it's limits. Stretching my stomach with her tiny feet and tiny hands. Pushing on my ribs and bladder. Trying to make room for herself in her tiny motel room.
Stage 7 was feeling those first few contractions. My body ripping itself apart in order to bring a new life into the world. Pushing itself to it's limits and then pushing through that. Nature taking over.
Through all of these stages, my only concern was to bring a healthy baby into this world. That is what every mother wants though. A healthy baby. Even some one who might not be religious, turns to God in prayer. Praying for a healthy baby.
Why was it me that had a healthy baby? Why me, when there are so many other mothers out there that have prayed for the exact same thing? Does God only hear a few of those prayers?
I realize that I am lucky that my world has continued to spin. My daughters life has seen to that. I pray that I can bring her healthy siblings. But, I know that I was lucky and blessed to just have her. A baby's life might be fragile, but it is also powerful. The changes that a baby brings are amazing. A mothers love for her child is fierce and overwhelming. No matter how big a baby is, from the size of a poppy seed, until they are full grown adults, a mothers love is infinite. Always growing and evolving. Whether their baby is in their arms or in God's arms, a mother's love is never ending.
In Memory of Wyatt James Greeno
July 13, 2010-
January 24, 2011
and all of the 1 in 100 babies born with CHD
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