Welcome to this month's Secret Subject Swap. This week twelve brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts.
My “Secret Subject” is: Take us on a journey to the happiest minute of your life.
It was submitted by: http://climaxedtheblog.blogspot.com (Thank you for this fabulous subject!!!! With all the craziness in the world, it was awesome to think back to my happiest minutes, even if the road to them was a bit insane!!!)
So, when I read this subject, I immediately knew what the happiest minute of my life. I really did not even have to think about it, or try to figure out which one I would pick. As I sat down to write this out, I realized I do have a second happiest minute, and it is pretty much equally as happy, and happened one a few minutes after the first I thought of. Then, I realized I really have a third one as well. All equally as happy. So, I am going to bend the rules a bit, and tell you about all three. Truthfully, I could write for days on the journey that led to them, so I have decided to give a very condensed version, and try to focus more on the happy minutes themselves.
Have you figured out what the minutes are?! If you know me, you probably have already guessed. Let me tell you, getting to those minutes was not easy, but boy were they worth it. I would do it all again a million times over, even if I had to go through worse to get to them.
So, it was November 11th, back in 2012, and I was not feeling so well. I think I had this inner intuition, but really I am not even sure what it was. I just suddenly thought, my period is late, I am pregnant. Then I talked myself out of it, because honestly, we had tried previously, and it just never happened, and I had recently accepted the fact I would not be having any kids in the future.
I am not even sure what I was thinking, because I was convinced I was not pregnant, but I just had this feeling. I sent Chad to get a pregnancy test, and then when I was getting ready to take it, I remember thinking I would make it sweat for a second, make him think I was, because it would be a horrible time for me to be pregnant. Only, the joke was on me. I was pregnant.
Of course, I totally freaked out. I was thinking holy moly. How am I going to be a mom?! This is horrible timing. YAYYYYYYYYYYYY! This is going to be so bad. YAYYYYYYYYYYYYY! I do not know how to be a mom. I am so clueless, what am I going to do. YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY! I am way to unhealthy to do this. This is probably going to kill me. YAYYYYYYYYYYYYY!
So, then I was calm, and thoughtful. Then I was freaking out, so I called my mom. I swore her to secrecy. I have lost children in the past, and the thought of telling people was not a happy thought. I asked her advice, it was time for me to take my medicine, and I just was not sure I should. So, she advised me to call my doctor immediately.
I did. My doctor freaked out, in that very calm doctor way they do, when something is wrong. He let me know that this was bad, but he would get me through this, and told me to definitely not take my medicine. He told me I needed to be in his office immediately on Monday, and that he would be finding out what we should do.
That Monday, he started to treat my blood clotting issues with other medicines, ones that were safer for the baby, but not very good for me physically. He referred me to the doctor he trusted, and that he felt could help me have a healthy pregnancy. I was beyond nervous, but I trust my doctor so very much.
So, that started a whirlwind of emotions and doctor's appointments. I had three doctors. My regular doctor, who treated my health with importance. A high risk obstetrician, that treated both the baby and I, and would be delivering her. Finally, I had a high risk pregnancy specialist, that focused solely on the baby and any problems she would face. In the end, I also ended up with one additional doctor. I had a pre-natal cardiologist, that made sure her heart was okay.
So, every week, I had at least one doctor appointment. Many weeks, I had two. I think the most I ever had was six in a week, and that only happened twice. It was a bunch of tests, pokes, prods, exams, and worries. Looking back, I realize I did not even start to relax and enjoy being pregnant, until I was over six months pregnant, and even then, I was still terrified.
I can honestly tell you, the most terrifying moment happened on Thanksgiving. It was after we returned home from dinner, and I just wasn't feeling well. I went to the bathroom, and there was just so much blood. I will spare you the details, but suffice it to say, Chad and I thought we had lost the baby. We went to the ER, because I was bleeding badly, and it was a worry, since I was on three blood thinner shots daily.
At the end of the night, the ER doctor told me that we were so lucky. She could not explain it, but I was still very much pregnant, and I needed to go home and stay in bed. Up until that point I was on nearly total bed rest, but starting that night, I was on complete bed rest, and that lasted until after she was born.
We were given a list of things that would be wrong with our baby, that could literally fill a book. It was overwhelming and terrifying, but it never stopped me from loving her or wanting her. I just tried on a daily basis to prepare myself for the struggles that we would face. I thought of ways to make her life as good as possible. I prepared myself for the possibility of her life being very short. I did a lot of stressing, and I am still baffled why my hair is not completely white.
Slowly, but surely, we passed all the milestone points the doctors wanted us to. We got closer and closer to a point where she would have a solid chance at having a life outside of my body. She was growing very slowly, and that was a huge concern, but despite not meeting the growth milestones, she was doing very well. Just after I reached six months of being pregnant, her cardiologist gave her heart a clean bill of health, and a huge weight lifted. That day, was the first day that I actually was a bit excited, without concern overshadowing it.
The days went by. I felt horrible. There were days, I genuinely thought I was going to die. I did not think I could physically go on. I remember making sure everyone knew, if anything happened to me, I did NOT care what they had to do, they had to save her. I wrote a bunch of letters, for them to give her as she grew up, in case I wasn't still here.
That was the thing... They had huge doubts she would survive the pregnancy. They had huge doubts I would survive it. They had the absolute most doubts that we would both survive. So, I just did my best to make sure she would be the one to survive it. All I wanted to do was make it to the end of July. It was hard to pinpoint a due date, because she was always so small, but in the end it was decided that my due date had to be the very end of July.
My doctor told me that if she was born weighing five pounds, and was not having any major issues, they would not keep her for an extended length of time. That was what I really wanted. I did not want her to have to be in the hospital for an extended period of time. I did not want Chad's job to ever be at risk, and I knew if she was in the hospital, he would need to be with her.
June 27th rolled around, and I had two doctor's appointments, including one with the specialist, which meant we had to go to the office that was thirty minutes away. Thankfully, my high risk obstetrician, the one who I had the most appointments with, was only five minutes away. I was not feeling well, and was dreading the ride. I got up, and fought through feeling sick, and showered, and prepared to go to my appointment. Things were okay, until I stood up to get dressed, took off my bathrobe, and we realized I was bleeding badly.
I remember I began to panic. I called the specialist, and told them I was bleeding, and asked if I should still come to my appointment. I was told to go to the ER immediately. I was a mess. I just knew I was losing her. There was just too much blood, and after the Thanksgiving Miracle, I just was not sure we would get another miracle. Chad helped me dress, and we went to the ER. I was a wreck, and when they met us at the door, I remember telling them I was losing my baby.
They brought me back to Labor and Delivery and hooked me up to monitors. The baby's heartbeat was strong, and I was dilated to three centimeters. I was losing the baby, but not to miscarriage, I was losing her to labor. I was in labor. I was having the baby. It was go time. So, Chad went home and got our hospital gear, and came back, and we worked on having a baby.
It took fifteen hours and forty nine minutes, but at 11:49 pm, on June 27th, 2013, I gave birth to a COMPLETELY HEALTHY, happy baby girl. It was probably thirty seconds after her birth, that they put her on my chest. I let her stay there for about a minute. One of the happiest minutes of my life. I told her I loved her, and then I told them to get her to specialists who were there to care for her.
There had been some internal tearing, and due to my bleeding issues, the doctor and five nurses had to immediately get my bleeding under control. It was touch and go, and took an hour, but they got me stable. During that time, Gigi was examined by the specialists, and one by one, they all gave her a clean bill of health. The moment the last specialist informed us she was healthy, started the next happiest minute of my life. I realized she was healthy. She had none of the problems they said she would. She was exactly five pounds at birth, and was healthy. My baby had shown us all just how amazing she was.
Then I was back focused on myself, and how I was feeling, which was horrible. Exhausted. Weak. Then, once the bleeding was under control, and I was completely stable, I slowly started feeling better. The most amazing thing finally happened, and my third happiest minute happened. I was stable, I was alive, and they handed me my baby. I got to hold her. FINALLY. I got to look at her. Count her fingers. Count her toes. Look into her eyes. It was the BEST!
Gigi is my happiness. She completes me. She makes me happier than I ever even knew possibly. She nearly killed me a few times, but she was so worth it. She is beautiful. She is amazing. She is happy. She is healthy. She is smart. She is happiness personified.
So, there you have it. Hands down the three happiest minutes of my life. What is your happiest minute?!
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