How blessed we are

It was February 2010 when Tyler and I decided that we wanted to start our family. And it wasn't until January 2011 that we found out that I was pregnant. Almost a whole year of waiting and hoping and trying and praying for a little baby to come into our lives. And although we did have to wait to actually get pregnant, and although sometimes waiting was hard, it helped us to really gain a desire and partial understanding for what we were trying to do.

And then came the pregnancy itself, which for me was very very hard. Not only were we initially lacking health insurance, and a secure income, but I was miserably sick, and could barely function. Around the beginning of my second trimester, our health insurance kicked in, and I was able to start getting prenatal care. And a prescription for Zofran (or the generic equivalent) which helped me to be functional. Then came the third trimester when some serious insomnia hit. And all of this along with the usual discomforts of pregnancy.

And then, suddenly, five weeks before my due date, we had Richie. And all of the sudden, our plans and our lives exploded.

One month ago today, I was wrapping my (very exhausted) head around the fact that I had just had a baby, and that he was not coming home with us.

One month ago tomorrow, I was a wreck as I contemplated leaving my baby at the hospital. Even though I knew that leaving him there was the healthiest and safest thing that we could do for Rich, I was an emotional basket case. I sobbed the night away before I was discharged from the hospital. And every time we left the special care nursery (before I was discharged) my eyes would start welling up with tears, and my throat would close. I felt like I was abandoning my little son.

Dramatic as this may seem, I really felt a sense of loss. And I felt a little gypped. I was supposed to have another month of pregnancy. This baby that had been so close to me for so long was now going to be so far away. I missed feeling his movements. I missed knowing he was safely growing inside of me. I felt like I had taken my whole pregnancy for granted, and I did not want and could not bear to leave my baby behind.

And then, I had an experience that snapped my perspective back into place.

As I was preparing for discharge from the hospital, Tyler sleepily told me that he ran into the husband of one of my really good friends at the hospital. And the husband told Tyler that his wife had had their baby the day after we did, but their baby had been born without a heartbeat. In fact, his wife had been induced knowing that she was delivering her stillborn son.

So, I went to visit my friend, whose room was a few doors down from mine, not knowing what to say or how to act. And that visit changed my whole view of everything. It was a very brief visit. We cried a little together, and she told me what had happened--that she hadn't felt the baby move and went in to see if everything was okay, and it hadn't been. She had been induced, and delivered her baby without any medication. We chatted about a few other lighter things, and I said my goodbyes.

And then I really realized how lucky we were. Because you see, I was going to get to take my son home eventually. And I would get the chance to raise him and know him now. And all those months of preparation and waiting and suffering were going to pay off for me in the immediate future. I got to meet my little boy.

Did it stink that I would have to leave my son at the hospital? Yes. Was it going to be difficult not knowing when he would come home and waiting for him to make progress? Yes. But would we be okay? Yes. And would my son come home? Yes.

Now here we are one month later. My son is growing healthy and fine. By now, I'm sure he weighs in at seven pounds, if not a little more. He's starting to be more awake and alert, and acting like a normal baby. Plus he really is totally adorable.

Within this last month, I've had other friends experience baby heartache that have continued to make me grateful for my healthy little boy. One friend, after a long pregnancy, delivered a healthy baby girl. And in a routine appointment with her midwife, the midwife dropped the baby, and the baby ended up with a fractured skull. (I'm still waiting on further updates on how the baby is doing.) Another friend had a  baby born with heart and lung problems. Unfortunately, his son died two days ago.

No pun intended, but I really do feel richly blessed (okay, maybe the pun was a little intended). I definitely did not know what having a new baby would be like, and it is sometimes kind of hard. But it is so fun. I love watching my little boy grow. And I marvel at his expressions, sounds, movements, etc. He really is a miracle (all babies are, truthfully).

And I am so glad to have him here.