Becoming A Mom-Again

*Trigger Warning-Loss of "fetus"*

On a Wednesday morning, laying in a hospital bed. That was where my journey of becoming a mother began. She was 6 lbs and 15 oz of chubby cheeks and black fussy hair with big blue eyes. I remember lying in the bed and not wanting to look away from her tiny messy face. I remember feeling terrified that I was now a mother. I was now the new sole caregiver of a tiny, helpless human, who would now rely on me for food, shelter, love, hygiene, literally everything. Even with the fear of failure in the back of my mind I had never felt so complete. I remember riding in the back seat of the car to make sure she was happy and knew I was there. I would watch her sleep for weeks, not because I was afraid but because I was so utterly in love with that tiny child. She grew too fast, so fast in fact that at the age of 1.5 she was wearing size 5T clothing and weighed close to 45 lbs. There were literal years of exhaustion with her. She didn't sleep thru the night until she was 2, and yet I wouldn't have traded it for the world. 

Fast forward to January 2018. I was a few months pregnant, I had been sick for new years and had been complaining  for a week or two that I felt like something wasn't right. I was too tired and too hormonal for being only a few months along. Now in Feb. I went to an ultrasound and had my 1.5 year old daughter with me. I was running late to my appointment because of the tantrum that was thrown, by the child and myself, whilst trying to get her into the car. I quickly, and painfully, pulled her out of the car and held her hand as I begged her to walk faster as I couldn't carry her any longer per my doctor's orders. We made it just in time and waited until we were taken back. This was a day that I would not soon forget. I said a little prayer in my heart as we were called back that my daughter  would behave while I had my ultrasound since I was alone this time. We went back and to my pleasant surprise she sat in a chair and quietly played with her toy. 

 

In the room as I laid watching the screen, the technician scanned each inch of my belly. I noticed there was a second fetal shape on the screen that seemed slightly smaller that the first. Neither the technician or myself said a word as she searched. My heart sank, and I felt my throat tighten as we sat silently and my daughter toddled over to my side and pointed to the screen and said "BabIES momma!" I asked, in the calmest voice I could, if what I saw on the screen were in fact twins. She said "Yes." And before she said another word I remember saying, "But you can't find a heart beat." She looked at me with tear filled eyes and said, "I'm so sorry, but no. I cannot find a second heart beat. By the looks of it, twin B passed a week or two ago."

I remember holding back the tears and my daughter patting my chest and hugging me as she said "Love you babies Momma." I made it to the car before I broke down and let the feeling sink in. Weeks passed as I coped with the news. That same ultrasound gave us the news that the surviving baby had some extra fluid on his brain. The doctor told me that he wasn't really worried and that it was "probably nothing," but that we should see a specialist to be sure.

We saw the specialist every two weeks until I was 30 weeks along, and then every week after that. What they saw was in fact not, "nothing" and our baby boy was diagnosed with severe hydrocephalus. They preformed an amniocentesis test around 26 weeks and also found that he has a genetic mutation with XYY chromosomes, meaning he has an extra Y chromosome as "normal" for a male would be XY . Each appointment we went to seemed to give us less and less hope for his survival. Fast forward to 39 weeks gestation, my husband and I drove to Children's Mercy Hospital in Kansas City at 5 am for my scheduled C-section. We were checked in and admitted and I was taken back at 7 AM and by 7:58 AM our boy was born. I remember bits of the birth and I remember pleading with God silently to just let him live. I felt so tired and I fought to stay awake while the nurse kept tapping me to help me stay awake. As I looked around at the equipment, I heard it. That first cry from my son. They brought him to meet my face and I remember starting to cry because he was making noise. He was alive. The birth of my son was such a different experience from my daughters. I got to touch his head when they showed him to me and then I had to wait an hour or two before they would bring him into my room and I actually got to hold him for a few minutes before they swept him away again to the NICU.

Becoming a mother, again, has been much more difficult for me than anyone expected. They say that suddenly having two tiny humans to care for is quite the adjustment, but add all of our boys' special needs and one can easily become overwhelmed with it all. He is almost a year old now, which is a miracle in itself. I try to make sure to always set some time aside from mommy daughter time. I like to try and make sure she knows she is so LOVED, regardless of the time I have to spend away from her going to our boys doctor appointments. 

 We have appointments almost weekly, weekly if you count the three in home therapists he sees. I thank my Father in Heaven everyday for each day I am given with my family, but especially our boy. Life since he arrived has been a whirlwind of appointments, postpartum depression, anxiety, counseling and SO MUCH LOVE. Each day has its own challenges but we make it through. I feel like I have been taught so much lately about how precious life really is. I TRY to live everyday to its fullest and remember that a bad day is just that, and that each day is a new beginning. I have seen so many of God's tender mercies in my life. The things that could be seen as coincidence to some are some of the most meaningful and largest blessings that I have been given. 

As mothers we are given so much, and in return much is asked of us. Life can be crazy, things have not gone to plan with our boy and yet, I would not trade any of this crazy mom life, for the world. Each day that we are given is a gift, although challenges we face can bring tears and frustration, remember that you have been given this challenge. Not someone else, YOU, because YOU ARE STRONG ENOUGH to handle it. With God, all things are possible.