When I was 24 weeks pregnant with my first child, I went into labor. It was horrifying. I hadn’t even had time to really process the fact that I was actually giving birth to a human being, and now I felt like I was fighting for her life. For the last 12 weeks of my pregnancy, I had weekly blood tests, urine tests, ultrasounds, intramuscular injections & hourly medications to stop the contractions and monitor her growth. With each passing day, I grew weaker. When I was 36 weeks pregnant, I woke up with the worst headache. By the time I grabbed my phone to call my OB, I was completely blind. Soon after I lost my vision, I had a seizure. Thankfully, my mom was home with me. She called 911 & I seized again on the way to the hospital. I had eclampsia and I had no idea what was happening. I was all out of sorts. I had no idea how old I was, why I was in the hospital, why everyone around me was crying. I had an enormous belly & I didn’t even know I was pregnant. When the time came to deliver my daughter, I was pumped full of so much medication, I literally could not lift my arms to hold her. I had regained some of my vision, but the memories are vague. However- I remember someone laying this beautiful, brand new, perfectly pink, red headed angel on my chest. I didn’t have the strength to hold her in my arms. I placed my index finger in her tiny little hand and she squeezed so tight. Four years later, holding hands is our “thing” — no matter what, when I reach for her, she’s there… Just like she was that day when nothing else in the world made sense. <3
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