A year ago today -part one

 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.

  I cant believe 8 months have passed since we became parents of three children. It has been my greatest joy watching our children love each other. Watching them snuggle, love, play, help and show care towards each other on a daily basis.

Being a mother is truly the best gift on earth.

At one point though, the possibility of a third baby was a dream that was almost shattered.

There is so much to that story.

This story that started a year ago today.

Today marks an exact year since almost losing my precious boy. 

His sweet baby breath is the intoxicating smell I  breathe in as my fingers type. 

He heaves deep sleeping sighs while pressed against my chest, and some nights I just cant put him down.

Tonight is one of those nights.

A year ago today was the worst day of my life. 

The scariest, and one that I relive a little too often.

I cant believe that car accidents in real life are actually exactly how they are depicted in the movies. 

At least mine was.

Everything happened in slow motion…. a year ago on a gorgeous sunny cold day, I thought, “This cannot be happening.” — as I heard the crunch of metal.

And then the jolt.

I remember my head flowing back slowly, as my foot pressed harder down on the break –and then the  impact that I can sometimes swear I feel when I awake in the middle of the night. 

 Everything in the back seat of my little car flew forward.
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.

My swollen expectant stomach, with my growing baby safe inside, hit the steering wheel first; my head shook on top of my shoulders like a rag dolls. 

Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
In slow motion.

 I heard the crunch of metal and felt the jolt of horror flow through my body.

Adrenaline immediately took over.

It literally all happened at once and every aspect of the crashes impact embedded in my memory with clarity and foreverness.

And then, after the impact, everything was a blur.

I felt my growing uterus tighten and relax and then repeat as I sat in my totaled car — stunned. 

The driver of the other car had hit my driver side door and when I tried to open it to get out, it stuck and creaked and it took my entire five foot frame and all my effort to inch it open.

I wont get into how the driver of the car (who was found at fault and charged, ran at me with her purse above her head, threatening as I went to her aid). I wont say how I called my husband and made absolutely no verbal sense. Or how I called my dad after and my voice sounded like I was five years old again. I will skip all of the nitty gritty of the moments after, the moments where my subconscious took over because shock was the one leading.

What I can remember, through the shock, is sitting in my fathers car, my boots soaked through with snow, because I guess I had stood roadside, in a snow bank, watching the police scrape the broken glass and move the debris off of the busy road — until he got there.

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.

I remember getting driven home and feeling numb from the shock for hours.

Holding my belly and the baby I loved within it. 

I remember at some point putting my pride aside.

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.”

I remember feeling like I didn’t belong on the sixth floor, in triage.

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. 

The sweet nurses hooked me up to monitors and tried explaining that if something was wrong with my sweet baby, they wouldn’t be able to do anything for it. That the baby was just not viable, yet.

Their words stung my ears like fire.

They sent me for an ultrasound. 

I remember the technician with her cautious demeanor and how quiet and dark the room was.
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.

With that, she sent me back to the obstetrician on call and said my results would follow shortly.

My hubby and I waited and waited and with every passing minute I felt guilty that I had waited a few hours to be checked out and how we were also away from our other two children who were eagerly awaiting our arrival home. We were suppose to be celebrating as a family today.
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. 

I was so happy and full of expectancy for our future as I unknowingly drove toward the accident that could have killed me and my unborn baby.

I had just finished a three year cosmetology apprenticeship and had written the last exam I needed in order to apply for my red seal license. I was finishing schooling, and changing careers to have a flexible work schedule for my babies that I adored.

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.

Daily, my patient husband had reminded me that we were sacrificing now, but eventually it would all pay off. Today was the day we had all looked forward to for three years!!

 Eventually, we had planned, that I could make my own hours while packing lunches, teaching shapes and colors and planning play dates!

 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……