I'll start at the test.
It was Oct 30th, 2004, and there is was, the positive sign. I was 18 and scared, I loved my boyfriend, but this was all so unexpected. I happened to be out with my little sister and boyfriend for lunch at the mall. I showed him the test under the table and his eyes got huge. This was scary stuff.
We actually considered many things before we decided it was too late for anything else but keeping him, then I had to tell my folks. I was scared shitless, and they were not happy either. I went and made the appointment to figure out how far along I was. Before the pregnancy we had talked about getting married and it was just a matter of time until we got engaged, and we did just before the ultrasound. We had figured out that I was probably somewhere around 12 weeks along, little did we know we were so wrong.
The wand on my stomach and we saw him it was love at first site and then we were told I was 22 weeks along. Cue jaw drops.... She asked if I had been feeling the kicks and I really hadn't been and he even kicked during the ultrasound, nothing. I had a lot to learn.
Fast forward to 10 weeks later, we have been told my BP is way too high and that I am on meds and bed rest at home. It did nothing and then I was on bed rest in the hospital and it still did nothing. So I was off to be induced on the 14th of February, we thought maybe he would be a valentines baby. He ended us being born the next morning 45 minutes after they broke my water with no pain killers, it was unpleasant to say the least. But he was doing great when born he only had a little trouble with breathing at birth, he was perfect to us. He was small because he was born at 34 weeks, but he was 5 pounds. I stayed in the hospital for a bit till I was all better and I visited him whenever I could. He was getting so strong and doing so well. I will never forget where he was in the NICU and how nice and helpful all the staff were and I thank them as much as I can to this day.
He was in the hospital till he was just over 36 weeks old. He was feeding great and gaining weight and being so cute and perfect. So we brought him home and although we were in the basement of my parents house we could not have been a happier little family. He was sleeping and eating great and I was getting int he swing of pumping and all that great baby stuff. One night I had a freak out saying to my husband how I had this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that something was going to happen to him, we talked about it and just chalked it up to me being a little crazy after the whole ordeal of the pregnancy. The next night I had a dream where I found him dead in the bed and I could swear it was so realistic, I woke up slightly and checked on him and he was fine, so I turned over and went back to sleep.
I woke up at what my clock said was 9:30 in the morning and I thought "wow he really slept a while, I should check on him". So I turned over and saw his little face at peace and not breathing. I immediately scooped him up and tried to wake him, I yelled at my fiancee that he wasn't breathing and we both bolted upstairs to the phone and called 911. They had us do what we could of CPR, we couldn't get his mouth open, thanks to us both being CSI buffs we knew what that meant. The firefighters and ambulances and police arrived and they took over CPR and we went into another room with an officer and told him how we found him. They rushed him off to the closest hospital, so we held out some hope.
We waited in the family room and they worked on him, we tried to hold out hope. Soon they came and told us that he was gone, that he had been gone for a while when we found him. We broke down and held each other and wouldn't let go. They let us see him and hold him in a private emergency room. We had him baptised by our priest and we had the immediate family come too so they could hold him one last time. We left him to be taken to another hospital then the funeral home, we were crushed.
He was 25 days old, he didn't make through the first month.
We mourned for a very long time and our life went on, together I might add, and we continued out life path.
This February marked his 6th birthday. We still think of him everyday and we still love him. He now has a little sister, and she looks just like him and I am sure they would have been great friends and probably would have been confused for twins. Life does go on and we are living proof, sometimes the sad gets in but we deal and just look forward to the future when we can celebrate milestones with our almost 3-year old, smart as a whip, stubborn like her father, beautiful girl. Although I always take time to say "I miss you mister William, and I love you". One day we will tell her about him, and I am sure she will love him just as much as we do.
I am crying, crying, crying over here. Just crying. I am so, so sorry. Oh, how my heart hurts for you. I have a 6-year-old. I know just the year you are speaking of. What a story. What an encouragement you must be to so many you meet. Thank you for sharing this sweet story of your precious son. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteAll I can do is fight back tears (and lose) reading this story. My heart breaks for you.
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