Friday, July 20, 2007

I could write a book..

Or more likely, a series of books. Getting to this point, celebrating Miss Shelby's 3rd birthday was a very long road. A few years of infertility before ever becoming pregnant at all. Funny, after 8 years, I do not remember exactly how many shots anymore, or how many follicles, or even which medicine I took each cycle but I do remember hope and disappointment. After turning to "injectible meds" we got lucky. We got pregnant on the first try. Only it was with triplets and had things ended better, it would not be bad news but in our case, I was just not meant to carry multiples despite all the medical intervention, multiple surgeries and a 5 week hospital stay. Those 3 babies came too early, at 24 weeks. Although it is still very sad for me, it did pave the way for what is my reality...being Olivia's and Shelby's mom. Olivia came about 14 months later, after more infertility treatment, a cerclage and a high risk, highly monitored pregnancy. She was safe in my arms after a 37 week pregnancy and all was right in my world. Around the time she was one, I knew I wanted her to have a sibling. And the goodness of motherhood clouded my memory, what it really takes for me to become a mom. So we signed back up for a round of fertility treatment and the first few times with the villain clomid, were not successful. Onto the shots again, this time I gave them to myself in the belly. And my ovaries began hatching eggs like a chicken. The devils, not content to work properly on their own, but prone to being overachievers when prompted at all. I got scared of multiples and almost backed out entirely. Thank goodness I proceeded but in a very conservative manner, and still became pregnant. With just ONE baby. Things were on track to run smoothly, like they had with Olivia. Only, one of my ovaries decided to blow up and rupture, and at 8wks pregnant, I found myself in surgery. And praying that just I would be safe so I could be Olivia's Mom. I had jeopardized that and felt very guilty. Somehow, defying all the odds, this baby and I came through. Her fate was less certain than mine. After 2 blood transfusions, I was going to be OK but every week, I went to doctors' appointments not knowing for sure my little baby was going to survive this ordeal. Even at 16wks, when I needed another cerclage, to ensure she'd stay put, I was still a bit skeptical. But it became apparent as I saw her heartbeats, my belly began to grow, and we confirmed she was indeed a girl, that we were on our way to having another baby in our arms. Things went mostly according to plan until late in the game, July 4th, I started contracting. I took some meds over that weekend until I got to the doctor on Tuesday and learned I would be on bedrest until I delivered. Suddenly the scheduled 38wk c-section seemed even more improbable. Well, Miss S, she held on until 35wks. She was born at 12:20 on Monday night, actually Tuesday morning. She came out crying and then decided not to, which landed her in the NICU. After all I had been through, even though she looked tiny and fragile, hooked up to to tubes and monitors, I did feel at peace. I had certainly seen worse and I just KNEW she would be OK. And she was. She is.
My girl is 3 today. She is as tough as nails. She has had a lot to overcome but it has just made her a sassy, little fighter and so full of life. I am blessed.
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