Once upon a time, I said, alright, Lee wants a kid, let’s have a kid.
Then I prayed. Dear Lord, please give me a boy that walks and talks. Seeing as though we weren’t adopting, I knew I wasn’t getting what I wanted (obviously). However, God has an extreme sense of humor.
He gave unto me the smallest little girl he possibly could.
Callie Anne Gauker joined us at 26 weeks 1 day. For those of you who were like me approximately one year ago and don’t know what that means – that means she was 3 months and 1 week – 14 weeks – early.
I get the question A. LOT. “What’s wrong with her?!” Well, NOTHING. Which is why I have begun a lifetime as a mom with a guilt and questioning that only a premie mom knows. Something was wrong with ME. Not her. That’s why she’s early. She’s just over there trying to get her grow on, and for the rest of my lil’ life, I’ll wonder why I couldn’t have stayed pregnant the full 40 weeks, and what I could have done differently.
PS – the answer is nothing. I could have done nothing differently. Preeclampsia is a terrible, terrible thing.
What the HECK is preeclampsia? Well, if you’re like me about 61 days ago, you have no idea. Funny, really.
Preeclampsia is a terrible, terrible disease pregnant woman can get for which delivery is the only cure.
I can’t speak for everyone, but I can tell you that my swelling went out of control in week 25. My typically low blood pressure went though the roof – 170/100 – all of a sudden. Then I was put on bed rest in the hospital. I was going to stay there until I delivered – days, but hopefully months. I made it 4 days. 4. Days. Then, I had liver failure.
My dear friend, and my husband, who were with me the night I delivered Miss Callie, can quote me exactly from that evening. It went something like this:
“I don’t know what dying feels like, but if I did, I’m pretty sure this is what it would feel like, and I don’t like it.”
Imagine a car parked on your chest. You can breathe, but it hurts. It hurts a lot. The pressure is out of control.
Then, I had the opportunity to deliver a very cute, 1 pound 9 ounce baby girl with hair. Via C-Section. So no, I guess I didn’t “deliver,” but isn’t “deliver” much better to say then, “they cut me open and took her from me?” Yeah.
That’s what I thought.
They wisked her away quickly. I didn’t see her for a day and a half. There’s a special place in heaven for NICU nurses. More on that soon.
So, we have a little farm girl. She has good days and hard days. Mostly good days, but some hard. She’s a farm girl. A feisty, fighting farm girl.
There will be plenty of more blogs coming, but here’s my start. Here’s my start as a MOMMY BLOGGER.
Get ready. There are going to be all KINDS of emotions evoked. Nonetheless, it will be real.