We didn’t want our baby to die on an operating table alone, so we decided on comfort care. The surgery was extremely risky, and there are no guarantees in life. We had to choose between massive surgery to correct his heart valves or comfort care.
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His heart valves were not functioning as they should, and neither were his kidneys.Īfter a week, it was time to make a decision – a point that no parent should have to get to. We can only assume all the spikes in blood pressure caused harm to his internal organs during development in the womb. Joey made it through the crucial first 48 hours, which is usually a good sign but he was extremely tiny and very sick. I had to make sure that I was staying alive. I wanted to get up out of bed and see my baby, but I was being pumped with medicine to keep my blood pressure down, so my only option was to stay put. My heart rate went high during delivery and I also had to recover from the c-section, which was hard on my body. I knew that NICUs were special places and could provide him with the best care possible. Our one pound miracle was quickly wheeled off to the NICU without having the opportunity to touch his mother. I was rushed into an emergency C-section. I was only 22 weeks along at the time.Īfter only a week since being admitted for hospital bedrest, Joey was having a deceleration of his heart. I was diagnosed with preeclampsia and was told I would be in the hospital on bedrest until I delivered. My husband was out of town for work, but thankfully my mother was able to come with me as I was thrust into the unknown. After hours of phone calls back and forth with the OBGYN’s office, I was sent to triage. During my back to school orientation, I was sitting in a friend’s classroom and started feeling warm. The outlook was positive, as he was going to survive he just would need assistance hitting some milestones.Īfter I accepted my new normal, I went to work and continued with my pregnancy as if everything was fine. My son, at that time, would only have physical struggles that were able to be corrected. I know now that was because it wasn’t a life or death situation. One doctor who sat us down in a little room said, “This isn’t going to be the hardest news I deliver today you should be grateful.” Well, that didn’t go over well with me.
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My son wouldn’t be able to walk like other children, and would require extensive therapy. Our support system was now there for us, which was helpful because over the next few weeks, we met with countless specialists who offered many recommendations. It was a relief to tell the truth, especially to my mom, who has been a neonatal nurse for over 40 years.
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The next day, we called our families and told them what the ultrasound found. I did it for my family and for my son, Joey, who deserved to be celebrated. While I wanted to lay in bed and cry, I pulled it together. Thinking back, this was when my journey of strength truly began. I didn’t want to rob our families of the excitement of finding out the sex of the FIRST grandbaby, so I masked my fear at the party that night. But during the scan, a leg abnormality was found on my son. We planned a family gender reveal for the night of my 20 week anatomy scan, expecting the sex of our baby to be the focus of the appointment. I was about to learn some hard truths in a real way. I now look back at those times and cringe because I was so innocent and unaware. Everything was going according to my plan. I was one of those people who did things according to plan: met a great guy, dated for a while, got engaged, got married, and then got pregnant… quickly. If I am in a good place mentally, I might reply, “Do you want the real answer?” One of the toughest questions I have to answer often as a mother is, “How many children do you have?” I never thought such a simple question could turn my world upside down.