Dealing with the story

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In May of 2013, we received the news that we were expecting again. It wasn't a complete shock to me however we weren't actively trying to conceive either. In my past experience, I have always been extremely fertile and birth control has usually failed me. So even though we weren't really trying at that time, it was and still is a blessing to me. It's hard for me to talk about my pregnancy with my son because so much happened that I'd like to forget about and yet it still haunts me.

My son was supposed to be a spontaneous triplet. However we ended up losing two of them in utero in the earlier stages. It's funny, I never in my life would have imagined I was capable of having triplets to begin with and it was definitely nothing I ever really wanted. But yet now that they're gone, I find myself overwhelmed with complete grief. How is it that I can be so upset over babies I never really got to bond with? How is it that I feel like there's pieces of my heart missing? Why can't I just be satisfied with the one surviving baby I have? These are the questions that run through my head on a daily basis as I'm feeding or cuddling my two and a half month old. If only I knew the answers to these questions.

After my loss, I had a very hard time bonding with my unborn child. I felt so completely detached for reasons I could not explain. The day we found out he was a boy was very emotional for me and bitter sweet. I was SO relieved to find out that my motherly intuition had been right again on his gender but it made my heart ache that much more that his siblings weren't in there to discover their genders as well. The days turned to weeks and each week, I found myself becoming more discouraged. This was my last pregnancy! I wanted to be able to bond with my son! I wanted to enjoy and savor each precious moment that he was in my womb because I knew all too soon I would become infertile and one day, I was going to regret not cherishing my pregnancy. But I just couldn't even as much as I tried. My heart wasn't fully in it after my loss. I hid my feelings of discouragement from everyone else around me because well, they wouldn't understand. They couldn't possibly understand how I was feeling when I couldn't even understand my feelings.

On January 16th 2014, I was never so glad to have my survivor especially after the rough days prior to it. I'd been having characteristic signs of pre-eclampsia, however my Dr ignored them simply because I'd never had pre-eclampsia in my other three pregnancies. A couple days before, he almost had to be delivered due to fetal distress but because he just barely passed the Biophysical profile, they wanted to keep him in for as long as possible. When I arrived for an unscheduled appointment with her partner due to swelling and seizure level blood pressure, the dr immediately admitted me to the hospital. After about an hour of being monitored and seeing how strong my contractions were along with my blood pressure, I was taken in for my csection. My son didn't cry when he was born. Instead, he grunted very hard and struggled to breathe. He ended up having to be life lined to the nearest NICU because even with the oxygen therapy the hospital had been giving him, he was in very poor shape. Once he was settled into the NICU, we learned what was wrong. He was diagnosed with Persistent Pulmonary Hypertension of a Newborn(PPHN), which is a life long disease involving the arteries of the heart and lungs. They say it was probably due to pre-eclampsia that went undetected for so long. The general prognosis for babies born with this disease isn't very good. The Drs say that with careful monitoring and maintenance, he should live with very little complications. However there is always the chance that he could die at an earlier age because this disease tends to cause congenital heart failure in some children.

Living with him has been a challenge already in just the short weeks we've spent together. I find myself breaking down at random times, never knowing what is going to happen with him in the future. Knowing that the next few minutes could be his last here on Earth. I'm constantly checking his oxygen with a pulse oximeter we purchased upon bringing him home because he tends to breathe abnormally. He's currently fighting an infection of RSV and that would be scary enough with a healthy newborn. But with his condition, it only enhances that fear of losing him. There's times I question why this happened, just as I question why I lost his siblings. There's times I'm kind of thankful I only have one special needs child to deal with because with three other young children running around my house, it gets to be very stressful. But then there's times that even in my worst moments with him, I still mourn the loss of his twins. I don't know why anything happened the way it did or what is to come. I'm just learning to live with what is thrown at me one day at a time.




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