Tuesday, May 8, 2007


One year ago I was going crazy with anticipation and fear. I was reaching the end of my pregnancy with Phoenix and so scared I would get sick with preeclampsia again. By this time last year, we had thought he'd be here already. My blood pressure was climbing and beginning to be a bit more erratic. I was seeing the OB twice a week along with weekly BPP's, NST's, and labs. I was supposed to be working part time hours and resting, but I ended up spending alot of that time with appointments.

I remember how the fear would become overwhelming at times. A time when we should be happy and excited to bring our second child into this world was marred by our previous history. Don't get me wrong, we were optimistic in that Phoenix would make his way into the world safe and sound, hopefully at at term. But we were realistic in knowing that there was a chance he'd have to come early. I can't fully explain what late April and May felt like, it was such a jumble of emotions. The last two weeks, especially that last week, is painful to remember. I'd go into my OB appt and hope that this was the week I'd be induced just so I didn't have to worry anymore. What kind of mother wishes her baby would come early? I felt awful for thinking that, but it's how I felt. I wanted him out so he, and I, would be safe. Of course, I was also scared he'd come early because he was a boy, and would probably spend time in the hospital. You see, boys typically do worse than girls in the preemie world.

I remember the last 2-3 OB appts and how I kept a brave face on for my OB, but once he left the room I'd dissolve into tears. The second to last appt, I hated that man. (And I adore him, really) I knew he was balancing things out and my labs were holding steady so no immediate induction was necessary. That was the week I asked the OB nurse, "When will my mental health outweigh things?" I seriously felt like I was going insane. I burst into tears, sobbing my heart out at work with my co-workers. Jason was just as tense as I was.

The day I came in and Phoenix got his walking papers was one of intense relief. I remember sagging with relief and elation that this baby would be out (and safe) in 3 days. The time had come.

I still haven't written up his birth story, and I have every intention of doing so. It would probably be carthartic for me to do so, but that would also mean facing some of those fears again with the memories. While his birth experience was completely different from Ariana's, it had it's tense moments and it's own moment of fear with the possible placental abruption.

Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. Yes, it was scary. But the payoff in the end was so worth it. I have this precious little boy. I don't know if we will have another baby, but I do know that I made it through his, and I could do it again.

Phoenix will be one year old in two weeks, and I just can't believe how fast time has flown. It seems it went even faster with him than his big sister. I'm going to enjoy these last days of babyhood.

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