''If there is a heartbeat...'': One Year Later

It was nearly one year ago that I laid in a hospital bed waiting for a doctor to perform a sonogram. After a day of unpacking and cooking, I felt what could have been my water breaking at a very early 20 weeks and 1 day. This sonogram would tell us if I was, in fact, losing amniotic fluid. I was. I was given the option to induce labor and terminate the pregnancy, however the on call doctor gave me many other options.
I don't remember the car ride home. I don't remember the exact details, but I do remember asking for my mom or mother-in-law to come stay with me. I remember crying, a lot.
I was told that I would probably go into labor within 24-48 hours, or get an infection within 72 hours. I never showed any signs of labor or infection, though. 
It was a few days later that my mother and I went in for a check-up with my doctor. The sonogram showed tiny pockets of fluid, but I could see the sadness in my doctors face. The worry and the lack of hope. My mother stayed very strong and told him we believe in miracles.
As my doctor began discussing a plan to move forward I remember these words so clear ''and if there is a heartbeat next week...'' I would hear this for four more weeks of home bed rest. Visiting my doctor as well as a Perinatologist, week by week I was told what would happen next, of course focusing on what could go wrong. Hoping for a miracle, but hanging on on those words: ''if there is a heartbeat''. Each week I would anxiously await the next appointment, waiting to hear the heart beat of this child I already loved so much.
I laid in bed, only getting up to use the restroom or bathe. I watched movies, visited with friends and tried to keep my mind off of the negative. At my checkup at 23 weeks and 6 days my doctor made the decision to admit me to the hospital for closer observation. Then it turned into everyday visits from the doctors. Everyday I would hear those words. I was monitored for an hour a day, and would hear a feisty little girl kick the monitors on my belly. I would hear that strong heartbeat. A few days they felt hear heart rate dipped too low and she was on the monitor for a bit longer. I would nap to the sound of her heartbeat. The most beautiful sound I had ever heard.
It was the night she hit 26 weeks that the placenta began to separate and die. Olive quickly went from being completely healthy, to being in serious distress in a matter of minutes. At 26 weeks and 1 day she was born. She cried when she came out and it was the best sound I had ever heard.
She was rushed up to the NICU and it was a very long 12 hours before I would see her for the first time. Many people say when they see their preemie for the first time they are sad or scared. I was completely in awe as she breathed in and out with the assistance of a ventilator.
I looked up and saw numbers on the monitor and the NICU nurse began to tell me ''this is her oxygen saturation and this is her HEART RATE''. I sat and watched it. Many times I saw the numbers drop, but the nurses always came running.
Olive was 6 days old when I was able to hold her for the first time. She had dropped below 2 lbs and fit in my shirt. It was an amazing day.
For the first 149 days of her life she was on monitors. She endured 3 surgical procedures. She came home two days shy of her 5 month birth date.
She is now 10 months old and is quite big for a former preemie. She never lets any of the limits that were put on her hold her back. She is growing and developing very well and though she's needed to be tube fed for her entire life, she is slowly starting to eat by mouth. I laugh sometimes at the thought of her once fitting in my shirt and imagine trying to squeeze all of her wonderful 19 lbs into my shirt, although she is strong enough to fight me from doing so now!
I still watch her breath in and out and I lay my ear on her chest to hear that beautiful, strong heartbeat.

The Overprotective Mom: Preemie Edition

I think sometimes it is very easy to say things with the best of intentions, but not realize we are being negative or judgemental. Maybe it's because of everything our little family has gone through in the last year or maybe I am just sensitive, but it seems to happen a lot lately. For the most part I hold my tongue and just discuss it with Matt because he understands. I do want to address it, though. Only because I want to give a different point of view on how things can come across. 

Recently, I shared a story about Jason's Deli and a lady asking to touch Olive. I quickly responded "if you have clean hands!" I got a lot of positive responses and feedback, however a few responses hurt my feelings more than they probably should (they have been removed as I do not allow negativity on my page). One in particular made it seem as if my personality is the reason I would decide to say this. While this may be true in some ways, it's not the total truth. 

I have also had some well intended responses as "you won't be so protective forever" or with my "second child..."

I guess my reasons are many, but here are a few reasons these reactions/statements aren't exactly helpful: 

When most of you had your children, you went home within a few days or some even the same day. 1 in 8 babies are born premature, however I believe this includes up to 36 weeks. Most 36 week old babies don't need a whole lot of time in the NICU. As the weeks of gestation are fewer and fewer, the NICU stay typically gets longer. Our total NICU stay? 149 days. 2 days shy of 5 months. 

That's nearly 5 months of sleeping at home while my child is being taken care of by someone else. Someone highly trained, mind you, but I can't tell you how many times I got a call in the middle of the night letting me know "there is nothing wrong but we have decided to run tests because Olive *insert scary reason here*." 

Olive has also barely been introduced to germs as hospital germs are considered "bad". She was never given a washed and reused pacifier. If her clean outfit that was about to be put on fell on the floor before it got on her little body, it went in the dirty clothes. 

3 procedures (1 major, 2 minor). She has been on oxygen and fed by a tube her entire 6 months of life. She has had more blood transfusions, "heel sticks", IV's and so on and so on than I have had in my life. 

Currently she cannot have ANYTHING by mouth as she aspirates and can choke to death or get pneumonia. Even just "a little bit" of something is extremely dangerous. 

For 149 days anyone who came in to visit her had to "scrub in," or in laymans terms, thoroughly clean your hands and arms up to your elbows. If I was having an allergy or sinus problems I had to wear a mask around her. In a lot of cases I was questioned multiple times by various staff about whether I was well enough to see her. 

Many days I couldn't hold her for various reasons. I can't even begin to tell you what it feels like to walk in to see your daughter and there are doctors, nurses and other staff surrounding her tiny body. 

I can remember a day when there were 2 times I tried to hold her and each time she went completely apenic. No matter how many trained staff are around, seeing your tiny little girl turn blue is terrifying. I remember crying and thinking "I just want to hold my baby." This wasn't the only time this happened, but I think it was the first of many times I cried.

Ever since Olive was 6 weeks in the womb she has fought. From one complication to another we stuck it out. At 26 weeks her life was at a place that she would not have made it had she not been born. It completely broke my heart that I could no longer protect her. That she was now on her own. 

So now, what I can do is, I can fight for her. I, along with her daddy, can be her biggest advocate. I proudly go into her doctors appointments with a giant binder and write down everything they say. Even tough her team (yes, TEAM) of doctors communicate with each other I still tell them what I know and what each doctor says. 

I spend a lot of time on the phone trying to sort out everything she needs. Any extra support helps and I am always willing to at least try to get her the extras.

We ask questions. A lot of questions. When one doctor gives us a so-so answer, we ask another. 

When you say things like "with your next one..." know that right now thinking about "the next one" doesn't even cross my mind because I am enjoying my extremely strong little girl. I am processing the last 12 months and thanking God each day for our beautiful, HEALTHY daughter. 

So, when I ask you to wash your hands, please try not to be offended. And if it is my personality that makes me seem "overprotective", well I am completely honored God made me the way I am so I could advocate for such an incredible, tiny girl.