This wasn’t the dream I had for myself; parenting a baby for
a couple days and then being a parent from afar when he ended up passing away.
My dream had been very different. From a young age, I had wanted to be a
mother, have a family that gathered together for the holidays, and shared
memories. I imagined myself with little children who I would teach and raise to
be productive, successful members of society. We would laugh, love, and create
a family legacy. I believed that you got pregnant, had a beautiful baby, and
brought it home.
I met my Joel at 25
1/2 weeks gestation. I had suffered pPROM, where your water breaks very early,
before term, from a slow leak between 16-18 weeks along (diagnosed during my
18th week). Doctors suggested termination as labor often starts within 2 weeks
of ruptured membranes. I held on to hope that he may be among the few babies
that beat the odds. I stayed pregnant for 7 1/2 more weeks after my diagnosis.
Unfortunately, a uterine infection set in, and I went into labor. I was so
scared; I knew he wasn't ready to be born yet. I was in labor for about 12
hours. It was rough. They put me on oxygen and various IV meds. I was sick from
the infection. But he was born, he was alive! When I saw him I fell in instant
love. He was beautiful. Everybody commented how he looked so mature for his gestation.
Joel looked like a miniature full term baby in a lot of ways. He was trying so
hard to breathe on his own. The doctors intubated him and said he did so well
he had a 70% chance of living. He was critically stable, and I was thrilled.
