Am I Doing It Right?

Most young girls dream of the day they will find their happily ever after. Meet the perfect guy, have the perfect wedding, and then raise the perfect child together. Some may wish for a different gendered spouse or a variance in the amount of children, but that is the dream. When that dream starts to finally come true, nothing really prepares you for the reality of what it is you were actually wishing for. A lot of times, things never really go according to how you plan. It may be out of order. Or it may just not be in the time frame you had imagined. No matter what, you can count on the reality to hit you a lot faster and harder than you had ever imagined.

For me, it happened for the first time when I found out that my husband Josh and I were expecting our first child. We had just come back from our honeymoon not too long before, and were getting ready to PCS to Hawaii. Josh and I hadn’t wanted to get pregnant for many more years to come and we’re completely blindsided by it as I was taking anti-contraceptive measures. The two of us had to completely throw out our previous plan and factor in the new person that would be joining the equation... and we did.

The second time it happened was when I was 35 weeks pregnant. I had been taking care of myself and doing a lot of walking while also trying to work. When I was exactly 35 weeks along, I felt like something was off after being released from work and decided to go into Labor and Delivery as a precaution. My husband was not there, because of the military, and wasn’t due home until right before our son’s due date. So I forced myself and got checked out. They found that I was starting to dilate, but that I wasn’t having active contractions. What they did find concerning is that every once in a while my son’s heartbeat would go down and then immediately pick back up. The Doctors also told me that I had preeclampsia and that they would be inducing me at 37 weeks instead of waiting because the baby would be in danger if we waited any later. I was freaking out.

The third time happened immediately after. My husband was allowed to return home the next day and took me to my next appointment so the doctors could continue to monitor our condition. When I went in, my blood pressure was higher and the baby’s lowered heartbeat kept happening infrequently; so they rushed me to have a measurement done to see how big my little man was, just in case. And that is what changed everything. They immediately had me checked in to a room for 24 hour care and monitoring because my precious boy needed to come out as soon as possible. The scan predicted that he only weighed about three pounds, when he should have been much bigger at that point. They gave my steroid shots every 24 hours to give him his best fighting chance. As the hours went by Jack’s heart rate started to drop more frequently and for longer periods of time to where it was happening about once or twice an hour for minutes at a time. The doctors finally said enough and delivered him via a cesarean operation when I was exactly 36 weeks along.

My fourth test came, again, directly after. I held my son for less than a minute before he was rushed off to the NICU because, as the machine had predicted, he had been born at three pounds and ten ounces, measuring 17 inches long. I didn’t see him again for three days because my preeclampsia hadn’t gone away like it was supposed to and I was at risk of dying if they didn’t figure out a way to get my blood pressure down, and fast. The entire time I wasn’t worried about myself. I was worried about my baby. After those three days, I was finally about to see my son. A day later I was discharged and waited 14 more days until my little boy got to come home. He was tiny, but he was mine and I had fought for him. I still continue to do so.

The fifth and latest challenge has appeared only recently. As my son has been growing he still remains incredibly small for his age. This would not be an issue if he was at the same level in his abilities as others the same age. I was told by his pediatrician that we have to catch up on one, or he will need extra work and attention from a specialist. It is because of this, the past few months have involved me working with him day in and out on both aspects. As the weeks go by, I track his progress and am disheartened because not only does he continue not to get things he should have mastered months ago, but he also has been gaining weight and growing at a much smaller rate than before I started doing anything.

I have everyone in my ear telling me what I should be doing, and what food he needs to eat, how to raise MY son. Then I realized that I am and have always done the absolute best I can do. I’m not going to perfect. There is no “right” way of handling any of these situations that have been thrown at me. I have always done the best with the information given and there was no way for me to try to prevent any of these situations from occurring. No matter what anyone says, Mothers are not omniscient, they are not perfect, and they can only do so much. So if you’re going through your own challenge, don’t stress over what you can’t change. If you can change it, try your best. And if you fail, don't blame yourself. You are doing right because you are doing your best.