To be 41 years old and to find out your pregnant! Life takes you on many paths, that you least expect! That was the day my life changed forever. My two older children didn’t know what to think, but were, surprisingly, excited. My significant other was standing on clouds. He was so happy! It was something he wanted for many, many years. I, on the other hand, was scared to death. So many thoughts were racing through my head. What am I going to do? What are people going to think? How do I tell my family? Will I be able to deliver this baby being 41 years old? It took me sometime to calm down, but I did.
At three months, I was doing pretty well, except for being extremely tired with swollen feet. By the fifth month, my blood pressure started to rise to the point they prescribed me medication. It wouldn’t stay down. I was more tired and had a very difficult time staying awake at work. I would sit in meetings and my head would start nodding! I couldn’t believe I was doing that! Something that I’ve notice in other people that I never wanted to experience! By this time, the doctors were watching both of us closely. Yes, I was having a boy. A little boy! Daddy was so excited to have a boy. So being pregnant was good.
Well, at 28 weeks, my blood pressure was so out of control, that they put me on bed rest. I had full blown preeclampsia. I was required to go three days a week and be monitored. They listened to my son’s heartbeat and watched my blood pressure. Well, at 29 weeks, they rushed me by ambulance from the clinic to the hospital where my son’s heartbeat was weak, and my blood pressure wasn’t going down. They had me on two different blood pressure medications and it still wouldn’t go down.
At the hospital they tried to keep my son in me as long as possible. They gave me steroids to try and develop my son’s lungs. We were getting weaker and weaker. They delivered my son at 30 weeks by emergency c-section. He was 3 lbs. 4 oz. and 16 1/4 inches long.
He survived. He made it this far! He is amazing, but he was very sick. He was in critical condition. When they wheeled me in to see him, it was so hard. He had wires and tubes all over him. His skin was thin and wrinkly. So many thoughts raced through my head. What if he doesn’t make it? What if he is in pain? Does he feel the pain he’s in? What do I do? How do I help? It really scared me to see my baby in this condition.
I then touch my baby, very lightly, on his fingers. His little fingers! They were so small. The love flowed through me. I had to be there for him. He was born with a hole in his heart, a heart murmur and premature lungs. He needed time to grow. Within three days, he moved from critical to series. About two weeks later, he was no longer in serious condition.
My son, Adam, came home 8 weeks after he was born at 6 lbs, 3 oz. with an oxygen tank and a heart monitor. He wore the oxygen tank for 4 weeks and a heart monitor for 10 months.
