Seven years ago this weekend, I was 26 weeks pregnant. Admitted emergently to the hospital after a visit to the employee health clinic revealed my blood pressure to be 220/140 and dipping 4+ protein. The docs told me the baby would be born any day now and gave him only a 50/50 shot of surviving without death or major delay. Thank the Lord, I responded reasonably well to bed rest and was able to hold out 12 days to make it to 28 weeks. Allan was born weighing 2 lbs 6 oz and 15 inches long. He spent a long 96 days in the hospital due to complications but beat all the odds recited today.
In many ways, this anniversary is harder psychologically on me than his actual birthday (October 2nd). He will be 7 and is in the big countdown to his birthday so of course he talks about it a lot. I remember the fear and anxiety and anger of not knowing and worrying about my baby.
To those out there suffering from this horrible disease and playing the waiting game... there is hope. Take it one day at a time. It's the only way you stay sane.
Blessings to all,