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From the moment my husband and I started dating, he told me he wanted to be a father and have a family of his own. I wanted the same thing, and mostly for the same reason. My husband and I both grew up in slightly rough homes. I lived with my mother who was physically abused in front of me frequently by my step-father, and I was verbally abused constantly. My husband was basically seen as a money sign by both his mother/step-father and father/step-mother. So, we wanted to be parents because we wanted to finally have a family of our own that we could show all the wonderful emotions that we were never shown.
So, after two years of off and on trying, we finally conceived. We'd had several hysterical pregnancies, and it was nearly impossible for me to tell because I've had such an irregular period all my life. Only birth control made me have a month period... Without it, I could go anywhere from 2 months to a year without a period. When the doctor gave me the news, I cried with excitement. I'm young, a mother at only 20, and my husband is only 3 years older than me, but we were both set on what we wanted.
The pregnancy seemed incredibly normal to begin with. I had regular "morning" sickness which was really any time of day sickness for me, and I continued getting sick throughout most of my pregnancy although the number of times I got sick decreased dramatically after the first Tri. The only thing that seemed strange to me was the frequent, uncomfortable abdominal pains. I read What to Expect, they said it was normal to feel some slight discomfort. I asked the doctors, once again, normal, so I let my worries subside.
Around 25-26 weeks, my slight discomforts became extremely painful. They'd been getting worse as I got bigger, but I'm a very slim built girl and figured it was only because she was putting pressure where my small body wasn't used to it. At one point, while grocery shopping, the pain became so intense that I nearly passed out in the middle of the check-out line! As soon as I finished paying, I got to my car as quickly as possible, sat down with the door open (the cold air helped), and cried my eyes out.
On Dec. 17th, I went to see the doctor. I was tested for GD (which I never got the results to) and had a normal check-up with the OB. I explained to the doctor exactly what I'd been feeling and the intensity of it. Once again, I was told that someone as small built as me would feel some very sharp pains during pregnancy and that it was nothing to worry about.
On the 20th, my husband flew home from working in Texas. He'd been gone for 2 weeks. Not to be grotesque, but since we were told everything was fine, we decided to partake in our maritals. A few minutes into, my husband jumps back and points, with a terrified look on his face. "Brianna, you're bleeding! Are you supposed to be bleeding?!"
No, I wasn't supposed to be, and I began contracting. Unfortunately, my contractions were sporadic. I couldn't time them, and they were paralyzingly painful. I was instantly admitted to the hospital, pouring blood, and told that I might have to stay on bedrest like that until the baby came... Could be the next day, could be two months. Worst of bedrest for me was that my feet were raised and my head lowered to the floor in an attempt to keep her in. I was given steriod shots, contraction stopping shots, painkillers, a constant IV, and anitbiotics. I felt like a pin cushion.
After being moved to a different room and having bathroom priveledges back, I went back to bleeding and hardcore contractions. So, once more I was rushed to a labor room and was check to see how dialated I was. Apparently, I was at a 9. They put me on heavy Magnesium Sulfate to keep her in as long as possible, but admitted that there probably wasn't any point. Even with the mag I was going to have her the 24th or the 25th. Because I could no longer stand the magnesium, the doctors finally took me off. My water was broken at 11:55 p.m. and Amaya officially came into the world at 12:17 a.m. Christmas Day.
She came out pink and crying this tiny little cry. She was immediantly rushed to the NICU and I wasn't able to see her until a little after 3 am. I was still so hazy from the pain killers, etc, that I could barely enjoy seeing her, but her father broke down. I've never seen him cry like that. I was worried he'd be freaked out by all the wires, the Oxygen tube, etc. but he only said how beautiful she was.
This was taken the day she was born.
Amaya did so well breathing on her own they took out the tube within a few hours of having it in. She was a 28 week baby, weighed 2 pounds 11 oz, and I'd never seen something so small in my life. But something told me everything was going to be ok.
Over the month that she stayed in the NICU, she constantly surprised us. She began eating before they told us she would. She gained weight faster than they expected. She began eating on her own faster than they thought. We were told to expect to bring her home by the end of February. We brought her home the first week!
The only bumps we hit along the way was that she had colonized MRSA in her nose and was therefore placed in a room on her own, and she had a heart murmur that closed up within two weeks.
The hardest part was having to leave her everyday in the care of someone else, but she had some wonderful nurses and her neonatologist was one of the best in the region.
It snowed the day she was born. Where we're at in Georgia, it has only snowed on Christmas twice in 90+ years. I believe that was God's way of saying that everything was going to work out perfectly, and it has. She's going to be three months on Friday and she's had no preemie-related problems other than reflux which is now medicated!
We're so thankful for our angel, and we now have the family that we've always dreamed of having.