The days leading up to his birth were filled with fear and panic attacks.
Fear had been with me the entire pregnancy. My first pregnancy ended in the stillbirth of my son's big sister only 13 1/2 months before. She died at 37 weeks. When I was pregnant with my son I had to count kicks several times a day. Only days before my son was delivered I didn't get any kicks in the morning; I was 37 weeks and 1 day. Terrified, my husband and I drove to the hospital. I kept telling myself, Prepare to hear, 'there is no heartbeat.' Thankfully, there was a heartbeat.
The panic attacks were due to something I didn't discover until the day I found out I had to have a C-section: I'm terrified of surgery. As my bear bottom sat on a freezing cold surgical table while someone was sticking a needle in my spine (which also freaks me out) and I looked at a table filled with medieval torture devices, I prayed the Hail Mary. I said it over and over and over again.
Laying on the operating table I thought, 'It could still go wrong'. I worried my husband and I would drive home from the hospital without a baby in the backseat, again. After several minutes of further preparation, some joking with the doctors, my husband nearly poking my eye out because he was watching the operation, followed by my doctor wrestling with my son, he was finally born and screamed his little head off. Happiness flooded me and I cried, "That's the most beautiful sound in the world." I think any mom (or dad) feels that way when she hear the cries of her child for the first time, but my daughter's birth was silent and all of that pain was transformed into joy at the sound of his cry.
After he underwent the initial battery of tests, the nurse brought him over so I could see him. He was still screaming his head off! I quietly said, "Hi buddy, I'm the Mama." He stopped crying and turned his cubby little face towards me. It was love at first sight!
Today he is mobile and defiant and talks and still screams and he is the most wonderful boy in the world! Happy Birthday, little buddy!
The panic attacks were due to something I didn't discover until the day I found out I had to have a C-section: I'm terrified of surgery. As my bear bottom sat on a freezing cold surgical table while someone was sticking a needle in my spine (which also freaks me out) and I looked at a table filled with medieval torture devices, I prayed the Hail Mary. I said it over and over and over again.
Laying on the operating table I thought, 'It could still go wrong'. I worried my husband and I would drive home from the hospital without a baby in the backseat, again. After several minutes of further preparation, some joking with the doctors, my husband nearly poking my eye out because he was watching the operation, followed by my doctor wrestling with my son, he was finally born and screamed his little head off. Happiness flooded me and I cried, "That's the most beautiful sound in the world." I think any mom (or dad) feels that way when she hear the cries of her child for the first time, but my daughter's birth was silent and all of that pain was transformed into joy at the sound of his cry.
After he underwent the initial battery of tests, the nurse brought him over so I could see him. He was still screaming his head off! I quietly said, "Hi buddy, I'm the Mama." He stopped crying and turned his cubby little face towards me. It was love at first sight!
Today he is mobile and defiant and talks and still screams and he is the most wonderful boy in the world! Happy Birthday, little buddy!
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