My Preemie Turns 4

We celebrated #3's 4th birthday last week. It's always a bittersweet day for me. The day he was born was the most terrifying day of my life. I still cry when I allow myself to remember that day. It was January 16th, and he wasn't due until May 4th. By the time I realized there was something very wrong, and got to the hospital, it was too late. I was in labor that could not be stopped. The nurse examined me, and I was 7 cm dilated. She yelled at the top of her lungs "I've got a bulging sack!" The terror that rushed through me is indescribable. I screamed "I don't want my baby to die!" over and over again as they wheeled me to the delivery room.

As it turned out, #3 was breech, and had to be delivered by c-section. As I laid on the operating table, I wanted to stop existing. I didn't want to live without the baby I had waited so long for. I tried to make myself stop breathing, but The Man was right there, telling me to open my eyes. I clung to the sound of his voice, and took a breath. I couldn't allow him to lose his baby and his wife in one day.

The 91 days that #3 spent in the NICU were a roller coaster. We had really good days, and really bad days. We almost lost him on a few occasions, but he proved to be stronger than anyone could have imagined. He came into this world weighing a mere 1lb 13oz, and was 12 inches long. He's 4 years old now, and you would never know he had such a rough start in life.

I try not to dwell on the trauma of his birth, but unfortunately I don't always succeed.


These photos were taken in the days following his birth



And here he is today!