During the first trimester of my pregnancy I knew things could go wrong. I didn't let it inhibit my excitement over being pregnant and I didn't dwell on that but I knew nothing was promised. When I entered my second trimester I breathed a sigh of relief and when I hit 20 weeks I felt great. We had our ultrasound, baby was doing great, mom was doing great, things couldn't be better. Everything was perfect and I was so happy and so in love with my pregnancy (and my baby of course!). Not that I wasn't before but at this point everything was just wonderful - no more morning sickness, I felt great, and I was truly enjoying every aspect of my pregnancy.
Then 2 weeks later it all came crashing down.
When my blood pressure shot up I thought to myself "okay, I can deal with this". They had me do the 24 hour urine collection and I thought everything would be okay. I've always been healthy, I'm young, in shape, things will be fine. When the call came the next day that my kidneys were spilling a significant amount of protein (503) I felt like I was punched in the stomach. Then everything was just a whirlwind... bed rest, blood tests, extra appointments, at home blood pressure monitoring, etc. And every time a blood test or urine collection or whatever came back "bad" it was another slap in the face with how my body is failing me. How my body failed at this pregnancy.
I spent the last 4 months of my pregnancy on bed rest. Every extra appointment, test, collection, blood pressure reading - all of it was a reminder of how my body was failing me and my unborn son. When I was told to expect my baby premature it devastated me for about a day - then I was determined to make sure I did everything possible (not that I wasn't already), no matter the sacrifice, for the sake of my little boy. This is something I've kept up to this day and will continue to for the rest of my life, no matter what happens beyond my control.
The “bad” days were always brightened by a kick and a wiggle. I talked to my unborn son daily and marveled at how much I could love this little person who had not even been born. How he had the ability to turn a bad day good, to put a smile on my face, and to make all right with the world when he hadn't even taken his first breath. But even so the reminders of how my body failed us were still there in the background. Even though I was still carrying my son, he was doing well, and things could be so much worse, the thoughts were there.
When we made it to term those feelings let up slightly. Despite every obstacle placed before us, I - my body, still carried my beautiful little boy to 39 weeks. Then when Caden crashed during labor, I thought I was going to lose him and needed an emergency c-section the thoughts of failure came flooding back. When the quite of that sterile operation room was broken by the sound of my son crying nothing mattered. The stress, worry, tests, surgery, everything was worth it and has been ever since.
In the months since Caden's birth everything "bad" has melted away from daily life... but far back in my mind, hiding in a dark corner were the feelings of how my body failed me both during my pregnancy and the issues I face now. I regret that I wasn't able to enjoy my pregnancy 100%, that I failed at a vaginal delivery, that I failed at a healthy pregnancy.
Yesterday as I nursed my son I once again marveled at our love for each other, his ability to make me smile, to make the bad days good, and to make everything right with the world. His smile warms my heart in a way words cannot describe. I looked at his little hand as it grasped my finger and stared in his eyes. I can't believe how perfect he is and that he is mine. His 10 perfect fingers, his 10 perfect toes, his beautiful face, his amazing smile. I gazed at my healthy, happy baby boy and knew... my body didn't fail me and it didn't fail my son. Sure I might not have had the prefect pregnancy and I might not have had the perfect labor and delivery but here is my little boy, perfect as can be, and he is mine.
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