Birthdays are an opportunity to throw a party, have cake, open presents, and do what makes us most happy! Every parent I know also chooses to reflect, not just on their own birthday, but especially on those of their kids. I'm no different.
My daughter turns eight tomorrow. EIGHT! I still can't believe it.
For the past week or so, I've been thinking about how fast time flies. I also can't help but to reflect back to my pregnancy and her birth. Doctors had informed us that they were concerned of inadequate blood flow, fairly early on in my pregnancy. I was monitored closely, though. And with each check-up came a thumbs up. I was grateful, dismissing any concerns they had as minor, if even a concern at all.
While at work one day, I started to have visual disturbances (I saw spots). They wouldn't go away. I had an on-site health center and went there to see if they had some insights. They took my blood pressure, and refused to let me go back to work. My BP wasn't all that high and I remember being quite irritated by the chain of events. They called my doctor who then told me to go to the hospital for testing.
I was 27 weeks gestation.
To make a long story short, I was fiesty for the next three and a half days. Each day was filled with test after test, and another reason for me to stay yet another day. On the fourth day, I was on the phone with my husband. I told him I was comfortable and didn't understand why I had to be there. Internally, I think I was doing my best to try and come to grips with the idea that I'd be there for possibly the next 2-3 months. While on the phone, the nurse walked in and then walked out. It was odd behavior. I knew immediately something was wrong and I told my husband to come. Immediately after hanging up the phone, I started to dry heave.
All moments after that, up until my daughter was born, were a bit fuzzy. I remember feeling so tired that I couldn't hold my eyes open, yet I was awake many times and could hear things going on around me. I remember my mouth being dry. I asked for ice chip after ice chip for the next two days.
I had pre-eclampsia. I was given magnesium sulfate in hopes of keeping my daughter in utero until 28 weeks gestation. Upon the first day of her 28 week gestation, my daughter was born.
Giving birth to my daughter proved to be a dangerous feat, not only for her, but for me. And here we are, almost eight years later.
The past seven years and 364 days have been beautiful and sometimes ugly, fun and oftentimes challenging, awesome and sometimes painful. Although parenting is not what I thought it was going to be, I wouldn't change one second. My daughter has been my teacher just as much as I've been her's, and it's been a blessed road to travel.
Goodbye Seven. It's been quite a journey.
Be open to what comes.