I've got a new attitude! (Change of Life w/o)
Aug 30 '03
The Bottom Line Don't be scared off by the topic, this review is quite mild!
First, I'd like to thank everyone who agreed to join me for this impromptu write-off. I tend to steer clear of emotional topics normally, but thought if I had some company it might not be so difficult. Please check out the group of wonderful writers at the address on my profile page!
When it comes to religion, it may seem like I'm a fair weather fan. All of my life, my relationship with my higher power (I just use God, but insert your own if you need to!) has been based on fear. That is, I was fearful of being punished if I did something wrong. When I got married, I was determined that we would go to church more in order to be better Christians. I was raised in the South, so religion is plentiful, but my family never really attended a church regularly and I'd always felt I'd missed something.
After several years of attendance each Sunday and Wednesday, my husband was irritated at my insistence on going, our relationship was on the verge of divorce and I contemplated life as a single mother. Over the next several years, we had more tragedies which were mind-blowingly significant for us, though others have made it through worse. My faith was at an all-time low. Not only was I questioning God's existence, I was so angry at Him I couldn't even begin to pray. For some reason, I couldn't see all of the blessings my life held, I only saw the misery.
Skip forward a few years. I have my marriage back on track, a sweet young son who is in kindergarten and I'm pregnant with my second child. I had no reason to think the pregnancy and subsequent delivery will be any different than the simple time I'd had with my 9 lb. 6 oz. son.
From the very beginning this pregnancy was different and miserable. I never felt good, I looked terrible and my mood was quite dark. I even took a severe ice storm that left us without power personally! That December day, I just didn't think things could get any worse. But, as usual, I was wrong.
On the day before New Year's Eve, I was barely 7 months along. The whole weekend I'd felt horrible, and could not ease my swelling, no matter how much I stayed off of my feet. What's more, I had a migraine that brought me to tears and that would not go away no matter how much Tylenol I downed. I realized at 3 a.m. that I hadn't felt my active baby move all day long, so I called one of the doctor's in my practice. You know the drill, you never see the same doctor twice.
Upon calling I was advised to lay on my side, drink a Mountain Dew and count the movements of my baby. When the hour was up, I had only felt 4 very light movements that I'd have never noticed had I not been laying perfectly still with my attention focused solely on my stomach. Still, the doctor told me I should feel reassured. When asked about the swelling (even my eyelids!) and migraine, he said he thought I was probably coming down with an intestinal virus that had been going around.
The next morning I still had the headache, had thrown up twice from the pain and still felt generally terrible. I thought, "How will I ever make it another 3 months?" Once at the doctor's office, I found out the answer was moot. I was told that I'd definitely be on bedrest and may even have to deliver if my condition worsened. They said I had Toxemia or Preeclampsia. I was admitted into the hospital that afternoon for observation, but my condition worsened to the point of seizures and the eventual emergency c-section delivery of my 28 week baby. I'd never heard of anyone delivering that early, and didn't quite know what I could expect.
When I finally came back to my senses, it was 4 days later. I was told I'd delivered a baby girl, but hadn't been able to see her yet. I was unable to move because my blood pressure was still at such a critical level that I couldn't go to see her, and she was certainly not stable enough to come visit me in my room. It is quite horrible to know you have a baby in the nursery, but cannot see her.
My husband stayed by my side through the entire ordeal. Once I was alert enough to know what was going on, I was desperate to get back to the Neonatal Intensive Care Nursery to see Mary Ashley. Dustin agreed to sneak me back there, away from the watchful eyes of my nurses!
When I first saw her, I was just terrified. Wires, feeding tubes, monitors, respirators, IV's in her tiny arms, bright blue bilirubin lights and the constant beeping that let us know when she had quit breathing all served to shoot my blood pressure sky high. I was escorted firmly back to my room by one of those watchful nurses who noticed my absence.
Eventually, I got better, and I got to go home, but my baby had to stay. Our life was turned upside down over the next two months with trying to work (I went back after begging the doctor after just 1 month, to save my leave time for when my daughter was actually at home!), trying to keep Ty's life normal with school and homework, and managing to visit with Mary Ashley every day in the hospital that was 20 miles from our house.
If you've seen my profile, you know that the story ends happily. In spite of her prematurity, Mary Ashley has done amazingly. She seems to have no developmental or physical consequences from her 3 month early arrival, and she is actually developmentally ahead of her corrected age of 5 months. We will celebrate the beginning of her 9th month tomorrow, and she is really a perfect baby in all respects.
You'd think my epiphany would have come in the hospital, wouldn't you? You'd be wrong. For those 2 months, every day seemed to hold some bit of good news. My normally pessimistic self somehow handled these curve balls life threw at us with ease. When I think about that time now, I am just tired and terrified, yet while we were in the middle of doing it, we somehow found the strength. Once a social worker called to tell me that my daughter had failed the hearing test, and when I didn't appear concerned, she said we needed to get right on top of this since preemies were at greater risk for developmental delays. I told her that right now we were trying to get my daughter to learn to suck from a bottle so we could remove her feeding tube was on my current to do list, and we'd get to that "developmental" bridge when we crossed it.
There's so much about that time I don't remember. About 6 months after her delivery, I began to ask questions of my husband about that time. For some reason, I finally realized how serious both our situations were and how much of a miracle it was that neither of us suffered any real lasting effects from the ordeal.
Now, at this point you are probably expecting me to say how my life was turned around by this and I found my way back to religion's bosom. But no, it is more subtle than that. I have simply come to peace with Him. Maybe one day I'll rejoin a church and make us all attend every function, but for now, I'm just grateful to have my new perspective on life. Every minute is a miracle. Don't expect to avoid tragedy and hardships, just hope for the strength to get through them. And last, never waste an opportunity to tell the ones you love how much they mean to you.
Thanks so much for all who joined in on this write-off! I look forward to every entry, which consequently can be found by following the link on my profile page!
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Member: Suzanne
Location: North Carolina
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Real Estate Rock Star
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