From the beginning, Mira has always been determined to be here. She somehow found her way into my uterus when I'd always been told that it would be difficult, if not impossible, for that to happen. And around my 18th week, I had surgery to "sew her in" (it's called a cerclage) because my cervix was too short to hold to term. By the time I had the surgery, she was damn near on her way out and after I was put on a light form of bed rest and told to take it easy (read: sit your ass down somewhere Kim!) All that coupled with the fact that on every sonogram, except one, Mira was always face down, head down toward the exit. Seems like she was always ready for her debut. I thank God that she waited until after 24 weeks when babies are typically considered viable.
But, all of this didn't stop me from racking my brain during the days leading up to her birth about what I could have done to cause her to come early. Did I not rest enough? Did I work too much? Not get enough sleep? Stress about home life too much? Should I not have taken that shopping trip to the San Marcos outlets? Was it too hot in my friend's house where I'd spent the 4th? Or did I let that infection go on too long before I called my doctor? It broke my heart to think I'd done something to put my baby in harm's way.
Fast forward to today. At the place where I take the puppies for their haircuts, there's a young man who cuts Coco's hair. He loves her, she loves him and he loves us both. He'd been asking the front desk ladies about me and the baby for the past few weeks. So I saw him today. He gave me a hug and the first words out of his mouth were "It's not your fault!" I was so stunned. He went on to tell me that he has a friend with three kids, two of which were preemies. And her doctors were so clear that there's nothing she did to cause her babies to come early. That sometimes, it just happens. And, in that moment, I was freed from something that I didn't even know I still held on to. It would have been nice to have those doctors and not the hot mess parade of characters at my hospital who, everyday, were trying to pin everything from diabetes to hypertension on me as an explanation for how I got there.
Truth is, no matter all the tests I'm sure I was charged for while in the hospital, we'll never know. And I'm actually ok with that. At this point, it's moot. She's here, however she got here, and I wouldn't have it any other way. To every mom out there who might be beating herself up about the "why's" and "what-ifs" of having a baby before time, it's not your fault. Everyone has a story and a start. And that's all ultimately determined by God. So embrace it and be present so you can tell your baby the awesome and unique story of how their lives began.
Thanks for your support and prayers.
|Our first time doing "Kangaroo Care" - skin-to-skin interaction between parents and baby. I cried...DUH! I think here she was a little over 2 pounds.|
|Mira shouting "Hallelujah" when she was finally able to get that CPAP off (see above picture for what the CPAP looks like).|