During the last couple of weeks on my Facebook feed, there have been friends of mine who have “liked” several news stories about babies that showed up on my newsfeed. Being a mother I clicked on them, even though I knew they weren’t pleasant topics.
The first one was a blog post about OB nurses and the hell they go through helping deliver babies. Just about every thing the blogger talked about I had experienced in the delivery room, except one. I read in angst as the nurse described a mother losing blood and flat lining. One sentence stuck with me, (although I don’t remember exactly what it said) but it was to the effect that the new baby will never get to be held by its mother. I about cried and I’m not a crier.
What if that had happened to me? I am a worrier and I play out situations in my head with various outcomes. With my youngest son, busy nurses didn’t get me up in a timely manner after my c-section and I couldn’t get out of bed when they finally did return. I get light-headed thinking about how hard it was to stand up and the overwhelming nausea I felt when I finally did. I nearly passed out trying to make it back to my bed. The nurse kept telling me she was going to have to give me the smelling salts. Let me tell you that stuff was awful. I was completely out of it and apparently my blood pressure had tanked. It reminded me of the time I got a lung full of anhydrous ammonia when dad was farming and I was helping switch tanks as a kid and the hose popped off.
The second link that I clicked on was about a couple who had a decided to go ahead and have their baby who had a genetic disorder, trisomy 13. Always fatal, the disorder doesn’t allow children to live more than a couple of days if they survive birth at all. As I watched the video of the couple with their final moments with Thomas, I nearly cried. The dad was so gentle and tender, explaining all the things they could fix on his little boy. I remember with my first son feeling the trepidation of getting tested for trisomy 13. I was 32 when I had Shaun and with age there are more chances for birth defects. I was relieved when we found out he was perfect as far as chromosomes and genetics go. Although I was now 35, I had less worry with Chance taking the test. I think it was because I had been through the agony of waiting before. Our second test again was a good result.
Yesterday I noticed someone had liked a page on Facebook called Prayers for Shane. Of course I had to go look. Not knowing what anenecphaly was I went searching for an explanation. I was taken aback by the photos and what the disease does to the poor babies. But none the less, the little ones were beautiful. Last week on the Prayers for Shane page they had photos of the young family and the new baby Shane. The little guy passed away within hours of his birth. My heart ached for them. Made me want to squeeze my babies a little tighter when I get home tonight.
At some point I will have to stop reading all things related to babies and pregnancy. Being a worrier, those kinds of posts will likely get the best of me. My boys are perfect in their own ways and I need to remember that. Regardless of what they do to annoy their mother, they are mine, they are here and I love them. I don’t like the word blessed because it gets overused, but I am truly blessed. My boys are healthy, happy and pure joy.