Milestones and Mortality

I've been working on party preparations. Picked up some books (as a gift) today. (She's starting to read and I'm so very proud of her!) Stopped last night and picked up a pinata. It'll all fall together sometime before 2:00 on Saturday. It better.

My youngest is nearing another birthday, you see. That'll make six, so far. And, while she tests my mettle regularly, all six of them have been treasures to me. I always get a little sentimental this time of year. (And not just from the holidays.) Remembering the trials and tribulations of getting her here. Thinking about how close my own mortality was. How quickly it can all be taken away.


Six years ago, today, I was lying in a hospital bed. I was pretty sick. Hell, I was dying slowly...and picking up the pace. My blood pressure was at stroke level (despite numerous meds), my kidney function was failing, my liver function was failing, and then my platelet count started dropping...and dropping...and dropping.

Not to go on about it, but a pretty tough bout of pre-eclampsia almost got both of us. A little more than two weeks in the hospital for me (through Christmas and the millenium New Year)...two months in the hospital for her.

A full twelve weeks early, and we weren't sure what we would get. First, you just hope for life. And then, you begin to greedily add on "please no brain damage", "please let her breathe without a ventilator for the rest of her life", "please no comas". At a whopping 1 lb. 15 oz., she came out kicking and screaming. And through the drug-induced haze I could hear her and I knew, at that very moment, that we'd make it.

It was not, by any stretch, an easy road. She had a few serious setbacks and she was fighting the tough fight pretty much constantly. Within the first couple weeks, she developed a dexterity for unplugging herself from the tubes. She'd pull out iv's and feeding tubes daily. Sometimes multiple times daily. Driving the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) nurses crazy. But it was a good sign. Her nurse practioner said it proved she had 'tude. (And she did/does.) And that she was a fighter. (And she was/is.)

I think back to that time. How very scared I was for myself and my baby. How insane my world was between spending as much time as I could at the hospital and trying to keep my older two daughters' lives in some kind of semi-normal state and keep a house running and a marriage going...you know...just for kicks. I was pumping milk, so taking mood elevators wasn't an option...but I surely needed them. All the worry about what my/our life would be like in a year...or two...or five.

And here we are at six. She's completely healthy. And as for the icing on the (birthday) cake, she's bright and beautiful. She's funny and sweet. And as mean as a snake when she wants to be. And I adore her. And I'm grateful every day of her life that I have her...and that going through everything we went through for those excrutiating two months (and the months after she came home) has paid off so well for me.

As a side note, I'd like to say that this is NOT the way you want to go about the task of having a baby. But if you, or anyone in your world, does end up in this situation, it's simply amazing the things medical science can accomplish. So, don't lose hope. And, honestly, if I can help, even if it's only as a "someone who's been there" kind of thing, I've done it a few times and I am pleased to give hope to the hopeless.

Sorry, I get a little misty thinking about this stuff. Never wanna get that close again. Since it was on my mind, I figured this would be a good place to dump it. Now off to order a cake!