"Mommy, Where Heaven at?"

        A few weeks ago my family and I were at Olive Garden celebrating what would have been my father’s 65^th birthday. My 3 year old was excited to celebrate “Bampa Gim’s birfday”. When we arrived, he was confused as to why Grandpa Jim wasn’t there. (Let us not forget that my father died 7 years before my son was born). I explained once again that Grandpa Jim was in Heaven, so we have to celebrate his birthday without him. While still confused, he seemed to accept it and moved on. Except to tell everyone he saw it was “Bampa Gim’s Birfday”. As we were packing up to leave, he once again asked where Grandpa Jim was. I told him he was in Heaven, to which my son cocked his head to the side and replied with a smile “Go see him?!” I explained we couldn’t go see him because he was in Heaven. “But, why Mommy, why?!” was his response. “Because when people go to Heaven, we can’t see them anymore”. He paused for a moment, thinking and with the innocence of a child he hit me with   “Mommy, where Heaven at?” Thankfully he didn’t notice my lack of answer and like all three year olds, he was easily distracted by something shiny. Because I didn’t have an answer. Because I didn’t know where heaven was at. It is a question I have been asking since the day my father suddenly and unexpectedly died 10 years ago and one that was renewed when my mother passed away 3 years later.

        Last week Stephen Hawking released new information regarding black holes. He hypothesizes that black holes are not bottomless pits in which all matter is destroyed. Through his voice synthesizer he stated “black holes might also be passages to other universes – but with a caveat. Anyone who enters one wouldn’t be able to come back to our universe” (ABC News). I believe it is possible then that black holes are actually passage ways to Heaven. That our souls are not destroyed upon death, but in fact travel through space and time, and with this new information, black holes serve as the doorways to Heaven.  

        I have found myself thinking a lot about my son’s question the past few weeks. Trying to come up with an answer that will satisfy his curiosity when he decides to ask me again. Every night when I put my boys to bed, I tell them I love them to the edge of the universe and back. When my son decides to ask me again “Mommy, where Heaven at?” I will look him in the eyes and tell him, “Heaven is on the other side of the edge of the universe. Black holes are just a short cut to the edge”.

Baby Boy Born Blue

It has taken me a while to write this post. Nearly 9 months to be exact. Partly because being a mom of 2 is a lot more time consuming than being a mom of one. Mostly it is because it deals with trauma that is still very real to me, despite how I act on the outside. 

It was Happening Again
I thought I had done everything right. I lost weight, Matthew was conceived without the aid of fertility drugs. This was my second pregnancy and I was being watched carefully by a team of doctors. By all accounts, my risks for pre-eclampsia were lower than they were with Jayden. Starting around 30 weeks I started experiencing blood pressure fluctuations. I spent a lot of time going back and forth between the doctor’s office and labor and delivery to be monitored. Each time they told me I was fine. I knew they thought I was overreacting because of my experiences with my first pregnancy. They should have listened to me. They should have done something. Perhaps if they did, my sweet little boy would not have been born blue. 
I kept asking for steroids for his lungs. I knew in my heart he would not make it to 39 weeks. They told me he was fine and he would indeed make it to term. I should have pushed harder. My MFM doctor said he would have a low threshold for giving me the steroids given my history and we would discuss it at my next appointment. Unfortunately he experienced a family emergency and was unable to be at my appointment. The doctor who covered for him did not have the same threshold. Therefore he did not receive steroids to speed up the development of his lungs. 
On July 18th, I went back to labor and delivery for a reoccurring headache and high blood pressure.  I was 34 weeks and 2 days. I was monitored and sent home on modified bedrest. Over the weekend my headache got worse and so did my blood pressure. By Monday morning I was in tears from the pain.  I called my doctor's office and they told me to get there as soon as I could. After finding a sitter, I left for the appointment. 
All Hell Breaks Loose
At my appointment I was quickly taken back for a blood pressure check and a non-stress test. A short while later they informed me I was going to be sent to labor and delivery for additional monitoring. Once there, my blood pressure was still high and rising. The doctor came in and informed me that the criteria for diagnosing severe preeclampsia had changed and that despite not having protein in my urine, my increasing blood pressure combined with my horrific headache was enough to make the diagnosis and I would be delivering my child that night. At that point I asked when I would be given the steroids. She informed me they no longer give steroids past 34 weeks. I was 34 weeks and 6 days. My heart shattered. I know from experience how important those steroids are. I begged for them for weeks. And now they were telling me it was too late, but he would be fine. He was far enough along and that his lungs would be fine. They couldn't have been more wrong. To say I was angry is an understatement. I am still angry.  I tried to remain calm when relaying this information to my husband who was still at work. The doctors "graciously" gave me enough time to line up a night sitter so my husband could attend the birth of our second son.

3 Hours shy of 35 weeks
I asked to speak with a NICU staff member before my c-section. I was informed that since he would be born a few hours shy of 35 weeks, he would automatically be taken to the NICU for observation, but they were expecting he would be back with me quickly. I learned later that the nurses were even discussing how to forge the time so that he could be given the chance to prove himself with me in my postpartum room. None of them were expecting the complications that were about to arise. 
Go Time
My husband finally arrived in time to gown up and wait while they prepped me for surgery. Thankfully the anesthesiologist inserted the spinal on the first try. I was then laid back on the operating table and waited. My legs became numb quickly but when the doctor tested to see if my abdomen was numb, I jumped. It was not. I started to panic. I don't even want to know what my blood pressure was at that point. The anesthesiologist said he would wait 5 more minutes to see if it took effect, otherwise he would put me under general. 5 minutes later I still wasn't numb and the last thing I remember is the mask going over my face. 
Baby Boy Born Blue 
I woke up in recovery with my husband sitting next to me. I immediately asked him how our baby was. I was told that Matthew Walter arrived at 9:19 pm but there were complications and he was intubated. It was if I had been sucker punched. I didn't understand. Before going into surgery, they were talking about him being able to be in my room after recovery. How the hell did this happen? The neonatologist informed me that it took a lot longer to get Matthew out than they expected and because of that he received too much anesthesia and combined with his prematurity, he wasn't breathing on his own. Upon delivery he was blue and floppy and his one minute APGAR was 1. They had to begin chest compressions because his heart rate was very low. He responded to the intubation and compressions and his 5 minute APGAR was 6. He was being transferred to the NICU. The place I worked so hard to keep him from every having to go. 
My Heart Aches
It has been 9 months since Matthew entered this world. I worked so hard to get him to term, but ultimately my body failed once again. After battling pre-eclampsia twice and post-partum preeclampsia this last pregnancy, I was told I should be done having children. That my chances of having Pre-E again were 100% and my survival was not guaranteed. So if I don't comment on the photo of you holding your newborn a few minutes after being born, please don't think I am anything but happy for you. If when you are talking about your birth experience and you see pain behind my smile, do not think I am anything but happy for you. The pain stems from sadness and guilt over not being able to carry my babies to term. The photos I see in my news feed are beautiful, but my heart aches when seeing them. The first photos I have of my boys are of them hooked to machines to finish doing what I failed to do. It is my hope that one day I will be able to make peace with the past. To quote my favorite TV show The West Wing “The goal is to be able to remember the past without reliving it”.  In the meantime, I will continue to hold my boys tightly and love them fiercely to the edge of the universe and back. 

Matthew Walter Sommer 7.21.2014 5 lbs 17.75 inches

Matthew Homecoming Day 8/4/2014

Matthew 6 months old February 2015

Combining Blogs because 2 is much harder than one :)

I have decided to combine Jayden's blog and the pittiful attempt at a blog for Matthew into one. Here are the 2 entries from Matt's blog. Sorry Matthew, your blog fell victim to the curse of the second child.

1/22/2014
Approximately 8 weeks ago I wrote a blog entry about how my 20's were not just hard, but heartbreaking. I am pretty sure God was listening. Because later that week, unbeknownst to me, Jay and I conceived our second child - without the aide of fertility drugs!

I am still in shock. I honestly thought my cycle was being weird because of the holidays and because I have been training hard for a half marathon. Since having my son, it has been so out of whack, I really didn't give it much thought until after Christmas. Then I joked with my husband that I needed to test.  Seeing as our son was conceived after 4 years of trying, 4 failed IUI's and finally a successful round of IVF, my being pregnant was not the first thing that came to mind. We were still in Chicago at his Mom's house. I had wanted to wait to test until we got home, but we were snowed in so I thought, hey why not, at least I won't have to worry about it another day and I can resume training. To my BIG surprise, the test was positive. Very positive. I had to look at the box again to make sure I wasn't confusing the "pregnant" line with the control line since it showed up almost immediately. I told Jay to come look. He knew right away it was positive because of the look on my face. The pregnancy was confirmed by ultrasound and a blood test a week later. While some people have said we shouldn't have announced it so early, my thinking is this child is a gift. For however long I am allowed to have this gift, I am going to celebrate it.  

Everything about this pregnancy is different. From how this child was conceived to how my body is handling it and everything in between. With Jayden, it started the month before his and his twin's embryos were transferred into me. There were so many ultrasounds. So many shots. So many hormones. Then there was the two week wait. For anyone who is trying to conceive and going through fertility issues, this is the longest two weeks of your life that can happen over and over and over again. Usually leaving you devastated because your period starts. With this child, there was no two week wait. There were no ultrasounds, shots, or hormones (except for the ones my body is producing rapidly). We never expected this to happen due to our form of infertility, but it was always in the back of our minds, the hope that we would be the exception.

 I am trying desperately not to be afraid. I am trying to enjoy this pregnancy as much as I can, because it will most likely be my last. But the ending to my last pregnancy weighs heavily on my mind. I have a 40% chance of having another preemie and I do not think my heart can handle that again. I am trying not to focus on it. I know I will be monitored even more closely this time around.  I also know that I have done everything I can to reduce my chances of pre-eclampsia. I have lost 70 pounds since having my son and my lifestyle is so different. I know that pre-e is more likely to occur in first time pregnancies as well as pregnancies that are conceived via IVF. Neither of which this one is. But my mind is still filled with the images of my child struggling to live his first few weeks of life. I am choosing to believe that it won't happen again. You see, I am 30 now. All the heartbreaking stuff was in my 20's. Yes, the second time around will be amazingly different.


4/1/2014
My oldest child defied so many odds. That's a fact and this baby boy is no different. He defied the odds by being conceived in the first place. At 10 weeks I was given a 50% chance of miscarriage due to a subchorionic hemorrhage and he has proven he wants to be here.  There were a few weeks where I could barely eat anything and if I did I couldn't keep it down and he continued to grow despite my increasing weight loss. So yesterday when we were told there is a very small, but still possible chance our son could have trisomy 18, otherwise known as Edward's syndrome, I have to believe that he will defy that too.

I was nervous going into our 19 week ultrasound with the high risk (MFM) doctor. For 9 weeks I had been worried that the small tear in the placenta and subchorionic bleed was still there and if it was  what that meant for the remainder of the pregnancy.  I was worried about my risk for preeclampsia and having another preemie. I was worried that the medications I am on were affecting my son despite my primary care and OB nurse practioner telling me that while they are class C drugs, there is no evidence to suggest the have a negative affect on a growing fetus. I was not worried about my child having any chromosomal abnormalities. The ultra sound tech commented numerous times on how extremely active our son was. Something the doctors and techs during previous appointments would say too. When the MFM doctor came in, he started going over our ultrasound results. Apparently he was watching it in his office and taking notes. He told us his growth looks great and we are within a week of our due date. He also eased our fears telling us there is no longer any evidence of a tear or bleed. My placenta had healed. Then he pulled up the image of our son's brain. He pointed out a dark spot and told us it was something call a choroid plexus cyst. He explained that they occur in about 1-2% of all pregnancies and alone have absolutely no affect on brain development or intelligence. However, its presence can be a marker for trisomy 18. A fatal chromosomal disorder. He then pulled up an image of our son's heart. Because of scar tissue (on me, not him) and the fact that my son would not stay still very long, the image wasn't as clear as the doctor would have liked. He suggested a repeat ultrasound in a month to get a better look. He said from what he can see it appears to be fine, but he just can't be sure without a better look. He pointed out that without other markers for trisomy 18, provided the heart is fine, that our chances of our son having this condition are still very low. After talking to the lab to discuss my quad screening results, he put those odds at 1/820 without the cyst and with the cyst he said some doctors would lower those odds to 1/600, but he wasn't going to.

Jay and I both really liked this MFM doctor (as opposed to the one I saw with Jayden). He did an amazing job of explaining everything to us and reassuring us that at this point, he does not think our son has trisomy 18. He told us if we wanted to know for sure we could undergo an amnio, but at this point the risk of miscarriage from an amnio was higher (1/250) than the risk of our son having trisomy 18 (1/820).  I asked if we could wait until our next ultrasound when we are able to get a better look at the heart to decide. He said of course we could, but if the results would affect how we choose to proceed with the pregnancy, then the earlier the amnio is done, the easier it would be. Without explicitly saying it, what he was really asking was if the results came back positive, would we choose to terminate the pregnancy?

Before having children, before infertility and heartbreak, the answer to that question would have been unequivocally yes.  I wouldn't keep carrying a child who was going to die. I used this exact situation in so many pro-choice/pro-life debates during my teens and early 20's and I couldn't understand why my pro-life peers couldn't see the difference between this situation and terminating a pregnancy because a woman just doesn't want to be pregnant. But then I finally got pregnant with twins and I saw my children's heartbeats on a monitor. A few weeks later there was only one heartbeat and I silently grieved for the life that was lost, even though I was only 10 weeks pregnant. Being pregnant changed me. While I would never judge someone for terminating a pregnancy due to a fatal disease, I couldn't do it. I could not be the one to make the decision to stop the heart that is beating inside of me. If after our next ultrasound our doctor says he thinks we should have an amnio, we will. Jay and I are both the type of people who would want to know what, if any, challenges we might face. The results however, would not cause us to be the ones to terminate the pregnancy. We would leave that decision up to God.

The name we have chosen for our son means "Gift from God". And while the chances of him actually having trisomy 18 is very very small, it is still extremely terrifying for us. If he does it will be devestating. It will change us forever but it will not destroy or define us. But in my heart I know he is fine. I just don't believe that this child, who's mere existence in our lives has defied all odds and who's presence alone is truly a gift from God,  would be given to us to be born with wings. I choose to believe that he will be born perfectly healthy and on time. Because right now, the majority of the evidence and mother's intuition is telling me so. And with that, my son kicks me hard as if to say, "I whole heartedly agree!".

More?!?!?!?!

Ever since Jayden was around 6 months old, people - including strangers - have asked me if we are planning on having more children. It has become and increasingly popular question and one that for me isn't easy to answer. First of all, I don't really see how it is anyone's business whether Jay and I decide to have more children. For strangers, I know they are just curious and none of them know the struggles we have faced in even having one child. But to the people who DO know our history - the pain and heartache we have endured in the hopes of having  a family - please stop asking. It is a deeply personal question to which I do not have an answer. Is there a part of me who wants more children? Of course there is. But it isn't as simple as just having unprotected sex. We have 3 embryos frozen. The comment I get a lot after explaining that we would have to do IVF again if we wanted to have more kids is "well I know so and so who did IVF and then got pregnant naturally. It is like the pregnancy reset the body". That is great for so and so. For us and our form of infertility that is not likely to happen. Could it? Of course it could, but I am not holding my breath. Because of the risk a multiple pregnancy would create knowing my history with pre-eclampsia, we would only be able to transfer 1 embryo at a time. This lowers the chances of success considerably. 
If I were to get pregnant I have a 40% chance of having pre-e again. Because of how early Jayden was, I have a much higher chance of having another preemie. I do not know if my heart could handle that. Knowing what I know now, knowing how incredibly lucky we have been with Jayden and not having any significant long term consequences of his prematurity, I don't know if it is the right decision to bring another child into this world. 
I mentioned the other day that infertility isn't just a battle, it is a war. It is a brutal and unforgiving war that had left me heartbroken and shattered. The birth of my son has healed the wounds of this war. I do not know if I can handle another battle, let alone another war. For the first time in many many years I am truly and unbelievably happy. I never want to feel that way again. Willingly allowing myself to enter into war in my eyes, at this point in time, is madness. I never want Jayden to feel like he isn't enough. I don't want to miss my son's childhood because we are so desperate to have more children. And what happens if I do get pregnant? In my eyes, the worst case scenario is losing another child. But to my husband and my child, the worst case scenario is not just losing the child, but losing me. As a mother I would gladly give up my life so that my child could live, but what happens to the child I already have? What happens to the man that has loved me since we were 17? Before Jayden and in the depths of depression, I believed that no one would miss me if I was gone. I see how my child looks at me. I see the love in my husband's eyes and I know if I were gone their lives would never be the same. I am not trying to be conceded, but truthful about what could happen should we choose to have more kids.
Asking someone if they plan to have more children is a deeply personal question. It is a simple question but one that does not have a simple answer. If we choose to only have one child, why is it anyone's business? I am sure I will be looked down upon by others because I only have one. How hard could raising only one be? There is such a stigma associated with the title of "only child". People believe they are selfish and they think the world revolves around them. If Jayden is indeed an only child, he will continue to be raised to be a kind, caring, giving child in hopes that he will become a kind, caring, and giving young man who knows the true value of the people and things in his life. If Jayden is indeed an only child, I shouldn't have to give an explanation as to why. Just as I do not judge those who have several children, people should not judge me for only having one. Undoubtedly some will. I will have to work had at suppressing the rage that will begin to fill me. I will have to fight the urge to justify our choice to others because it isn't any of their business how many kids we choose to have and the reasons why.
A few months ago I was told by a daycare worker that I "Owe it to the world to have another child" because Jayden is such a beautiful, delightful, and intelligent child. I do not owe the world more children.  What I do owe the world is to raise the child I do have in such a way that he makes the world a better place. I owe it to my son to continue to be happy and healthy and to be alive to watch him change the world for the better, as he has already changed mine.

525,600 Minutes

525,600 minutes, how do you measure, measure a year?

On Sunday there will have been 525,600 minutes since my heart has been walking on the outside of my body.  The earth will have made one complete trip around the sun since my child was prematurely, and in my opinion, cruelly, brought into this world.  It is so very hard for people to comprehend my anxiety associated with this day unless they too have been there. People always ask me how old he is.  When I say he will be 1 on Sunday, if they don’t make a comment about how small he is first, they ask me if I am excited. To strangers I say yes, because that is what they want to hear. They don’t want to hear that it was the most terrifying day of my life.  Had Jayden not been delivered when he was, he and I both could have died. Even after he was born, he had to fight so incredibly hard to breathe; to survive. 

He is still fighting. He is still struggling at times. Recently I had him evaluated by a feeding specialist after my “Mommy Voice” told me that something wasn’t quite right. We had been so lucky. In May, Jayden graduated early from physical therapy.  We seem to have avoided any lasting respiratory issues so far (crossing my fingers we make it unscathed through the next RSV season).   But still, there was a nagging feeling inside that he still wasn’t eating enough. He couldn’t seem to handle thicker purees or any type of “real” food besides cheerios and puffs.  On top of that, when he did gag and choke on things, he would projectile vomit all over the place.  So he would lose any food he had just taken in - and then some. He was still gaining weight, but that was because we fortify his bottles with rice cereal and extra formula. Even with that, he is still only the size of a 6-7 month old.  His pediatrician didn’t seem to think there was a problem and he kept tell me he would grow out of it. Jayden was still on his own curve and growing, so he wasn’t concerned.  I on the other hand was getting quite nervous.  I had a goal of having him off bottles by a year adjusted, but that isn’t going to happen. I finally demanded he be evaluated by a feeding specialist. She came to our house and after getting his history and looking at his mouth and how he was eating food (of course he didn’t actually gag and puke for her) she said that he has low tone with his tongue and mouth which means he can’t move food around in his mouth very well in order to chew and swallow efficiently. Therefore the food sits in his mouth and he gags, and when he gags he pukes. She referred us back to Imagine and Child Find to get him qualified for services with the county. I am very apprehensive about his evaluation with them because he didn’t qualify for services back in the fall. While no parent wants to hear that their child qualifies for services because they are delayed in some way, it will help us not to have to pay the copay every week as well as get him services once he enters school should he still need them. She is also a speech pathologist so I asked her about his speech. He babbles a lot, but wasn’t noticing too many constants other than m and b. She said that with his type of feeding issues and low tone, he could potentially experience a speech delay. My heart sank. It was so hard to keep a brave face for her after she said that because I have waited so long to hear my own child call me Mommy.  I cried after she left.  I know it is way too early to know if he will have any issues with speech and that she only said it was a possibility and not a definitive, but it is just one more thing associated with his prematurity that I was not expecting and something else that I blame myself for. She believes that he will need at least 6 months of weekly feeding therapy, if not more, in order to catch up to kids his age in terms of eating.  On a positive note however, she did not think he had any type of sensory issues that were causing his feeding problems; things that might be associated with Autism.  She was also very impressed with how proactive I was in demanding he see someone, especially since he is my first child. She told me it was great that we are getting him help so early, so it can hopefully prevent some major eating problems later on.  We now have to add calories to his solid foods as well as continue to fortify his bottles. It is definitely different grocery shopping when instead of looking for low calorie/low fat options, I am looking for the highest calorie/highest fat content I can. I didn’t even know they made whole milk yogurt. We are also sticking with fruit purees for now, as he seems to keep most of those down (if he doesn’t like something he gags and then pukes). We will eventually add veggies back into his diet. In the last few weeks there has been some improvement. He absolutely LOVES the Gerber graduate puffs. We go through several cans a week.  I am hopeful that he will be able to take more and more solids and we will gradually stop the bottles.

Other than his feeding issues Jayden is an extremely active, affectionate, and sweet little boy. He is almost always smiling. He is unbelievably curious and incredibly observant.  He sits back and takes in everything.  He is so close to walking on his own. In the past few days he has taken 1-2 steps independently. He understands more and more words every day. If I ask him to go get a certain toy, he stops what he is doing, looks around for the item and then goes and attacks it. It is hilarious to watch.  He also is a climber and loves to climb into his toy bins or onto the fire place. It is only a matter of time before he figures out he can move objects to help him climb onto or into things. 

He is the light of my life and makes me happier than I ever thought I could be.  I am looking forward to see him celebrate his birthday this Sunday with our family and friends. I can’t wait to see him with his smash cake and open his presents. People who haven’t seen him in 6 months will be amazed at how far he has come.  From the 4 pound preemie who needed help breathing, eating, and maintaining his body temperature to the 16.5 pound toddler who finds excitement in everything.

When I think about Jayden’s birth, there are times I still cry. I hate how his story began. But I also think about how hard he has had to fight to be where he is today and there has never been a prouder mom. It isn’t how your life began that matters, but what you do with that life once you’re here and he is making the most of it.  In the last 525,600 minutes, I have cried a thousand tears. But I have also smiled and laughed more than I ever have in my life. I have been filled with a type of love I didn’t know existed until my son entered this world. I am excited and hopeful to see what the next 525,600 minutes has in store for me and my double miracle child.

 Day 1 and Today

Mr. Personality

It has been a while since I have posted. Mostly because I have been enjoying my life with Jayden. He is already 8 months old, 6 months adjusted. I fall more and more in love with him every minute of every day. He is still a peanut, but he is growing so his doctor isn't too concerned. We do have an appointment with an ENT at the beginning of May. He has periods of loud breathing which seem to come from his throat. His doctor said it is probably something called Tracheomalacia. He only said this after I insisted on a referral to the ENT. From Dr. Google, I have suspected tracheomalacia, but I want to make sure and talk to a specialist in the field. 
Over the last 8 months, Jayden has emerged as Mr. Personality. He is one of the happiest, easy going babies I have ever seen. He smiles with his whole face and it could melt even the coldest of hearts. We have created a monster though. An animal loving monster. He absolutely LOVES all of the animals we have. Charlie (our big dog) and him seem to have the most fun together. Charlie lets Jayden do whatever he wants to him. We are working on trying to teach Jayden "nice touches", but he is 8 months old. Jayden finds it hilarious when Charlie gives him kisses, which is often since Charlie is a lab and loves to lick.
The curiosity and wonder I see in Jayden's eyes every moment of the day is amazing to me. He is literally seeing things for the first time. He examines everything (and then usually tries to put it in his mouth!) with excitement. As a teacher, scientist, and now a mother, I strive to keep that inquisitive nature alive throughout his entire life. 
As for me, I still feel the guilt every day. I tell my son that I am sorry every day. There is no timetable for healing. Exercise has been helping greatly, as has volunteering for the Pre-Eclampsia foundation's Denver Promise Walk. It allows me to feel like I am doing something to try and prevent this from happening again should we decide to have more children. I hope that one day there will be better treatments for this complication of pregnancy so that delivering the child prematurely will not be the best option to save both the mother and the child. I don't ever want to feel as helpless and alone as I did last August. 

My Journey to Jayden

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.