I was young, unprepared and had no business having a child, but yet I was actively trying before I would inevitably have to have a hysterectomy. Yep. You read that right. I had a hysterectomy at 24.
I was barely 21 when I started trying. I always knew something wasn't "right" with me. After 18 months of nothing, I finally became pregnant. Unfortunately that pregnancy was lost early in the second trimester. I had exams and ultrasounds done and nothing was said to me about any underlying reasons it happened, so I tried again. It was recommended I try the fertility drug Clomid as I had very irregular cycles and didn't ovulate every time. I became pregnant a second time and it ended with another miscarriage. It wasn't until my fifth round of Clomid and other drugs that I was pregnant with a "sticky" baby. I had actually stopped my meds early that cycle and decided to stop TTC because I was still grieving, had no support from the father, and the relationship took a downhill dive. BUT- That was the cycle I got pregnant.
I was overcome with joy but at the same time I was terrified. I was in an abusive relationship and really had no business doing this. At the same time, it was do it now or never. Pregnancy overall was traumatic and stressful. I lived every day in fear that this baby would also be lost. I bought a Doppler so that I could hear the heartbeat every day. My mom was my only support and she was an hour away. The husband was of no help.
I had some complications. I didn't find out until 20 weeks along that I was having miscarriages because of a defect of my uterus. I was put on "bed rest" but the demands of the home life didn't allow for that. He had no understanding of the serious nature of the situation. To top that off I had placenta previa and was not allowed to lift any weight over 5lb. The news added insult to injury and the fear of loss became worse. I prayed every day for God to protect my baby. I felt guilty for what I had done. I was Married to a man I knew I would not stay with, or I would end up dead. Now I was having a baby, and if I knew before hand about the defect I would not have tried again. What have I done?!
I had this notion that a lot of women have, that becoming a mommy was all sunshine and rainbows. It is supposed to be "The best thing to happen to us!"
Don't get me wrong, I love my Son with all my heart, but the beginning sucked!
My son was born via planned c-section. No matter what way the baby exits your body, it feels like you've been trampled by a herd of buffalo. Every time I stood up, it felt like my guts were going to drop out of my incision. I had this notion that I would breastfeed my Son for the first year. By the end of the first night I was already close to giving up. I attempted to feed him but the Nurses kept bringing him back every 40 minutes. He wasn't really getting anything from me. I was so sore and so stoned from the pain medication that I honestly just wished I could tell them to give my husband a damn bottle and leave it up to him. I kept trying though.
We got home and that's when the madness started. My son screamed and screamed and screamed, then would vomit what seemed like the entire contents of his stomach! He gasped for air and vomited everywhere again. He turned red and purple and screamed for hours. As soon as he would vomit he was back on my breast. I was literally stuck to the chair with him on my breast 16 hours a day. We made it to 4 weeks and I made the decision to stop breastfeeding. We switched to formula and the situation was no better. I felt like a failure and a bad mom for not nursing. I felt helpless all the hours he would scream and nothing anyone did helped him. I would call my mom and the pediatrician in tears.
It took three months to figure out he had colic and allergies. He could not have the milk or soy based formulas. A nurse practitioner ripped my face off for quitting the breastfeeding and I told her how it was and how it was going to be. Nobody has a right to force their beliefs on someone not knowing the situation! I spent 3 months crying with my son as I helplessly watched him scream in pain and vomit.
I was alone all day and night with my son while the husband worked. He screamed constantly and puked everywhere. It was a nightmare. I had blankets and towels laid out all over the home to catch the puke. It was during that first three months that I knew I would never do it again. One was enough.
By the time he was a year old, I was hospitalized after an assault and filed for divorce. I moved in with family. Only then did my son and I really develop a good close bond. I had thought a mom and baby would bond immediately but that hadn't come to me prior to the divorce. I still to this day carry guilt about not bonding with him right from day one. I never really figured out why that was but it may have been the overall situation.
Several years later, he is my moon and stars, and we have this inseparable bond I would not trade for the world. He is the center of my world. Dropping the baggage allowed for that. I still carry guilt to this day about bringing a child into that situation, but we have made the best of it. I wouldn't have my Son if it weren't for that. He is the only good thing that came from it all.
I have also remarried and my new Husband is a great role model. Through him and through my own actions, together we work to make sure he has the life he deserves. After all, he didn't ask to be born! I wanted him. I took fertility drugs and planned for him. I begged God to protect him. He's here. He's safe. And he's a miracle.