I should have done this sooner...

The inspiration behind creating this blog is courtesy of my three month old son, who was born three months too soon. This would have been a great idea to start three months ago, as a sort of record of the events and emotions that were experienced along this "magical" ride. But alas, I am not internet savvy, and as such, I am three months late. Better late than never.

I'll start from the beginning, because... where else would one start? At the beginning of May 2009, I was terminated from my job for reasons that still don't make sense. It also happened to be three days before my vacation to Indonesia with my husband, James, and our friend, Will. During this vacation, the little bundle was conceived (made in Indonesia!). Slightly on purpose. I arrived home two weeks later (two weeks before James), only to be jobless and to find my grandmother, whose love and respect I valued so highly, in the hospital. Sadly, she died before James could come home. On the morning of her funeral I took a pregnancy test at my sister's house- which was initiated because my uncut, male doberman was literally drooling over the scent of my boobs- it was positive. Ohh, what bittersweet news... I miss my grandma...

Skipping ahead, I did everything within my power to be a health conscious mother. I ate healthy, started eating meat, yoga (sometimes). I even avoided caffeine, dammit! But apparently nothing stops a ready baby.

James and I went for one of our regular check-ups at the birthing center in gainesville and decide to have the pentascreen done. About a week later we were informed that the results were not good. Although we were worried it was spinabifida, we later found out it was a lesser evil. On October 16 2009 we went for an ultrasound to detect if there was a reason for the elevated pentascreen. Yes, there was. After learning we were having a boy, we learned he had a condition known as gastroscesis- when the intestines of the fetus inside the womb protrude out of the stomach through a whole in the belly. Needless to say, we were destroyed that day. We read up on the condition and terrified ourselves all day. Looking back, it seems like a minor detail, but to an expecting family, it is the worst possible thing you can experience. I have never felt anything worse than thinking my child may be deficient and have a poor quality of life. I think at that point, miscarrying would have been easier.

I had been feeling a slight discomfort the next day, which I assumed was either due to stress or gas. On October 18, while at work, I went to the bathroom and there was blood... it wasn't stress or gas, it was contractions, I was in labor. I ran out of work, grabbed my poor husband, and sped to labor and delivery. Terrified and in shock, they informed us that I was in labor and five centimeters dilated. Holy Shit! They pumped me full of drugs-which I tried so hard to avoid mind you-to keep me pregnant and hold my contractions a bay. The futility of it all.

While laid up in the hospital we had plenty of time to ponder on the outcome of the situation. There were lots of doctors, nurses, and specialists who spoke with us every day about the possibilities that lay before us. Most were not so pleasant to think about. Each day was torture, not just physically, but thinking about our poor son, if he would survive, and what kind of life he would get to experience. Initially, we had made the decision to not resuscitate him and just let nature take its course. Thank god we changed our minds. Every decision we had to make was so hard. There was no right answer, it all depended on..."fate."
After ten days of agonizing labor, gross blood clots, constipation, the awful thought that my baby may die or be horribly deficient, trandelemberg- which for those of you who don't know, means being upside down in a bed- poor James wiping my ass and tending to me dutifully, disgusting hospital food, and well, you get the picture, he was born.

On October 27, 2009 Kai Lani Boyles was born. It took about three back-to-back contractions and two pushes. He came out in the sack, turned from a breached position to head on, and was breathing on his own. He weighed 1 lbs 7 oz and was the smallest beautiful thing I have ever seen. Although, I must mention the worst pain I have ever experienced in my entire life... what I would imagine it would feel like to be a live chicken having its thighs pulled apart and ripped from its body, and I was only six months pregnant... can't wait for number two! He truly was amazing though, little did we know that it was only the beginning of a long and arduous road.