Just over a year ago my journey into motherhood began.
At 13 weeks, I experienced my first trial as a mother. I had a placental abruption; 50% of my placenta separated from the uterus meaning that nutrients for my little baby could only pass through the 50% of the placenta that was still connected. Talk about terrifying; I had just completed the first trimester. I thought that I was home free. I was in great physical shape, was eating paleo with almost no sugar and was the healthiest I’ve ever been.
None of that mattered. Or maybe it did.
I thought that by doing everything “right” I would have a joyful and blissful pregnancy. I didn’t. The entire thing was a struggle. I was terrified of losing the little guy. I was mostly on bed rest and constantly afraid of what the next day would bring. Finally, in mid-January, at 27 weeks, I had an ultrasound that revealed that the baby was doing fine and I could start going for walks around the block again.
A week later my water broke.
I had exactly 1 week of relief before the next struggle began. I stayed in the hospital for about 10 days before the little guy at 29 weeks finally decided it was time to meet us.
For being born at 29 weeks, the little guy did amazing. I feel blessed to have such a happy baby. After the 49 days in the NICU when we finally brought him home I experienced my first full blissful day as a mom.
After 8 months with my little dude, I’m realizing more and more that each day with him prepares me for the next day. My pregnancy, wrought with complications, unknowns and an utter lack of control has taught me that no matter how “right” I do things, things can still go wrong.
But maybe, by always doing your best, you can still push for the best possible outcome. Maybe if I wasn’t as healthy as I was, I would have lost the little guy at 13 weeks which is unimaginable.
I’m still practicing letting go and rolling with the punches. But this little dude has pushed me further than I’ve imagined I could go.