Today my baby lies in my arms while I type this, and today my sweetheart is 8 months old.
If you are one of those mamas who counts by weeks, I have no idea how many that would be! I stopped referring to their weekly development when my babies were 12 weeks old cause I could never keep it straight after that!
All I know is I have experience the greatest love ever in the last 8 months.
Being a mother is truly the best gift on earth.
This story that started a year ago today.
Tonight is one of those nights.
My coffee cup spurted boiling hot liquid all over me and my empty passenger seat. My mothers instinct was to reach my arm across the empty passenger seat to save whoever could have been sitting there.
It was no use, as much as I willed the oncoming car to stop and for mine to be lifted up into thin air, it didn’t happen.
In slow motion.
I felt my growing uterus tighten and relax and then repeat as I sat in my totaled car — stunned.
I remember sitting in his car and being completely terrified as I felt the small life within me moving much more then it ever had. I remember wondering if my water had in fact just broken, or was I just imagining it.
I remember hearing my dads reassuring voice as he prayed for me and the baby inside of me and for the other driver as we waited for the police to assess the situation. I remember focusing on the rise and fall of my dads words instead of what was actually happening. I remember fighting the hot tears as they uncontrollably fell down my cold cheeks. I remember being so thankful that I had a dad to call, one who dropped everything and ran to my aid. I wanted to sit in that car and hug him forever.
I remember the police officer coming over to the car we sat in, as we tried to stay warm; how his eyes seemed to be the deepest blue I had ever seen. I remember the genuine care in his voice as he told me he was a father too. I remember him looking down at my belly that I hugged close.
I remember the stranger that stopped his car and came to offer support – a nurse – who’s words echoed in my mind during the following hours after the accident. I remember the care on his face as he explained that he worked at the local hospital and that I should go see my obstetrician, just to make sure the baby was fine. Tough me insisted, through the shock, that I felt fine, and he insisted with his sweet smile that i should just make sure.
I thank God for that man.
Holding my belly and the baby I loved within it.
Knowing full well that my baby was always the most important thing to me. Its safety, by far the greatest concern of my life.
Being an independent problem solver is wonderful, but not good when it comes to asking for help, admitting you need help, or seeking any kind of medical attention. I am slowly learning that I am not super woman.
I asked my husband to take me to the hospital, “just to make sure the baby was fine.”
Triage is a place meant for mommies with bellies so big that they walk with an arched back. mommies who are panting in full fledged labour with swollen feet and sweaty brows. I had done this twice before. I knew what to expect on this floor.
Here I was in my winter coat and you couldn’t even tell there was a little 23 week old life within me.
Their words stung my ears like fire.
They sent me for an ultrasound.
She stared at the screen in front of her and moved the ultrasound wand over my little swollen belly. She tried to talk to me but I couldn’t concentrate on her words, I just cried quietly, praying in the darkness until the ultrasound was done. I will never forget her words, after she announced she had all the information she needed. She looked me straight in my face and said, “You must hold on to the fact that little babies are strong. Take care of yourself sweetie.” She gripped my hand as my heart gripped her words.
Today was a much anticipated mile stone!
I had been coming home from school that day, my last day of school.
Hours earlier I had called my husband and exclaimed that I “Aced me exam!!!”.
I was ecstatic and he briefly shared in my happiness before saying goodbye and promising to treat me to a nice dinner with the kids. That I had deserved it.
FOR this little baby in my belly.
I had always dreamed that I would be a stay at home mom and had never imagined that I would be juggling a work schedule, school and parenting as a late twenty something mama.
I was so happy and proud to walk out the doors of my school earlier that day; to know that soon I would have this baby within me in my arms, I would collect maternity leave and soon after I could be a licenced stylist and pick my hours around my sweet babies busy schedules.
I literally skipped across the street to my awaiting vehicle.
I had no idea it would be 5 long months before I could skip again……