Over the last 3 months, I have been trying to identify and name many of the plethora of feelings I have had surrounding the conception, pregnancy, and birth of Jayden. You see, my journey to Jayden wasn't easy. It wasn't traditional. At times I felt it wasn't fair. I have had a hard time articulating what I have been feeling until someone on one of the preemie parenting boards stated it. Robbed. I feel robbed of the joy of child birth. I didn't have a birth plan. I didn't care how he was born (vaginally or c-section), just as long as he was healthy. His birth was terrifying. We didn't know how sick he would be. If he would be breathing on his own. We didn't know if he would need a breathing tube. We didn't know how small he would be. I feel robbed of the experience of being with my newborn in the hospital. Of being happy with my child in my arms. I feel robbed of the experience of being wheeled out of the hospital with my baby in my arms like everyone else got to.
I feel robbed of the excitement of conception and the joy of pregnancy. Jayden was conceived out of pure love and hope for a family, but also of science. His conception was clinical, yet necessary for us to have a family. There was no trip to the mountains, or a romantic evening where he was conceived. My neighbors growing up had a picture of the room in which their oldest was conceived (at least that is the story I was told behind the picture). I find myself a bit jealous of that picture and of my friends who conceived their children so easily or at least without the struggles we had. Jayden was conceived in a sterile room, me in a paper gown, Jay in a sterile paper jump suit. I had to lay flat on my back for 3 days after the embryo transfer. I had to wait 2 weeks to find out if it even worked. There was no taking a test on a whim to because I thought I might be late. Every pain, every abnormal feeling, whether it was a regular side effect of pregnancy, was cause for great anxiety. I knew if I lost both of my children, I couldn't just wait a few months and conceive another. After we lost his twin, the anxiety became even greater. I couldn't really enjoy being pregnant because I was so afraid to lose him. At 20 weeks we had a scare with my blood pressure, it turned out to be an ear infection. At 24 weeks we had another scare, which turned out to be severe round ligament pain and I was put on modified bed rest. So all I could do was worry. At 31 weeks my blood pressure spiked again, and at 32 weeks and 4 days I gave birth to my son.
I feel robbed of the experiences that the 3rd trimester brings. I had just started to feel like I was looking pregnant. I am tall and have a large torso, plus I was overweight to start so I didn't show as quickly or as much as other people I know. No stranger ever asked me when I was due. Some women will say things like "at least you didn't have to go through the last few weeks, you avoided that discomfort". What I wouldn't give to have had those extra weeks to allow my son to grow inside of me. I would endure all the discomfort and pain in the world if it meant my child didn't have to suffer those first few weeks of his life.
Many people have said to me, "look on the bright side, it could have been worse". NO SHIT. When I found out that I would most likely be delivering early I read all I could about issues that preemies could have. Especially those born around 31 to 32 weeks. He could have had to have a breathing tube. He could have had a PDA, CLD, IVF, ROP, and many more 3 and 4 letter acronyms for very scary things. I know that it could have been worse. I thank God every day that it wasn't. I thank God for the double miracle that is my son.
I am entitled to the feelings I have. Whether anyone thinks I should be feeling them or not. By keeping my feelings inside, I cannot begin to heal. I have learned that the hard way. I may put on a smile for the rest of the world, but I am still trying to put myself back together. I am still trying to figure out who I am after all of this. I am still trying to come to terms with the guilt I have over causing him to be born early.
My journey to Jayden has not been an easy one. It has been paved with tears, with fear, with anxiety. But the new stones I am laying down are ones of hope, healing, and undying love for my son.
