Each day was stressful. It was a daily struggle just to stay above water. There were several days I had to talk to my minister. He continued to tell me to have Faith. Hold out hope. There was a constant battle within myself to stay strong, stay positive, stay focused and hold on to Faith.
My mind kept wondering if she was alive, if she made it another day. I feared the worst, daily, until I felt her move.
On the worst days, I would just tell her that if she was going to die, I wanted her to do it now. Don't wait. I didn't want to go through another day praying she was okay, worrying she was okay, staying hopeful she would make it and then at the last minute have her pass on me.
I felt alone. Scott was going through the same ordeal but he wasn't carrying her. He didn't understand how emotional it was. Every day.
Some days, I would feel her move early in the morning. Those were good days. Other days, either she would wait until the late afternoon, early evening. They were the worst days, emotionally.
Don't get me wrong, I wanted this baby more than anything in the world but the emotional toll this was having on me wasn't good. I tried to stay positive but this was the longest, most painful, six weeks I have ever had to endure. It was awful not knowing what was going on inside of my own body.
It was a blessing and a curse at the same time to know at 24 weeks that there were issues.
Some moms I have met didn't even know anything was wrong with their baby until they had him/her. They went through the depression and shock then. I was thankful to be able to deal with the depression, the loss, the shock for weeks before Faith was born. So very thankful.
I was also scared.
I was scared that I wouldn't be able to take care of a child with special needs, if she made it. This wasn't something I ever envisioned. Who does though?
My sister told me that taking care of a special needs child, although hard, is much better than her dying.
I, honestly, wasn't sure.
It was a battle of good versus evil in my mind. I had to tell myself constantly to have faith. I had to stay strong. I had to stay positive. I would repeat this over and over each day and moreso on those not so great emotional days.
The 32nd week came. I sat down with the NICU doctor. We'll call him Dr. NiceGuy. He was, as his 'name' suggests, so nice! He asked me if I was ready. I told him that she wasn't supposed to make it to delivery. He said that she made it this far so we'll just believe she'll make it to delivery. That was the first time I've ever heard someone say that during the last eight weeks. He believed in her. That gave me hope. I believed in her.
He asked me what measures I wanted to take to try to keep her alive during delivery. I told him I wanted him to try everything for a 'normal' baby. He said that the anomalies they are aware of do not necessitate a higher level NICU so I was able to deliver at that hospital. He said that if there was a more significant issue they weren't aware of, they would then transfer her to a different hospital.
He said that she would be evaluated when she was born. If she needed to be admitted to the NICU, they would make that call then. At this point, they will be the ones in the delivery room when she is born.
It was a short appointment. I left with a postive attitude. Rare.
I did a little pep talk walking out of the hospital with Faith.
"Keep up the good work, babycakes. You will make it! Mommy can't wait to see you!" It won't be long now!
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