Monday, October 12, 2015

The Life of Reese Madison Part I (Day 12 - Hope Against Hope)

Photo by BabyAnywhere licensed under Creative Commons

After nearly a three week hospital stay, Reese Madison was born at exactly 25 weeks.  I was moved into a different room, now sharing the floor with mothers who had recently given birth.

I had so many questions. What were the doctors doing to her?  How big was she?  Who did she look like? What were the chances of survival?

I tried to ask these questions to my family as I waited to hear from the doctor.  I was exhausted.  As I went in and out of sleep, I prayed.  I hoped my baby girl could pull through this.

I remember when I asked who she looked like, my family could only say it was hard to tell.  But the look on their faces told me.  I imagined doctors working vigorously on my baby girl.  I didn't know how much her little body could take.

The doctor finally came in to see me.  We were told our daughter's lungs had not fully developed due to the lack of amniotic fluid.  There wasn't enough oxygen to circulate in her blood.  The doctor continued to explain to us that if she survived, there could be significant brain damage as a result.

The doctor gave the okay for me to see her.  I must admit I was nervous, my heart was beating so fast as I was wheeled down to see Reese Madison for the first time.  I didn't know what to expect.

She was so much more than I expected.  She was beautiful!  Even though she weighed in a little under two pounds, she was perfect!  Her jet black hair was bone straight and silky.  She had my nose. I just wanted to kiss her little toes and fingers.  Even with the visible tubes, her skin was indeed flawless as I had imagined it would be.  It was scary at first to hold her with the tubes that seemed to be coming from everywhere, but the nurses encouraged me as they handed me my baby girl.

I didn't want to let her go.  I held her for what seemed like hours.  While I held her, the monitor seemed to stabilize.  I recall the nurse assuring me my daughter knew who I was.  She stood near in support.  She encouraged us to spend as much time with our daughter as we could.

That's all I wanted to do was hold her.  I needed her to know I was there.  I was cheering her on as she fought to live.  We fought for her to live through prayer.

As I held her unto late in the night, I began to shiver.  I was feverish.  Yet, I tried to push through.  I didn't want to leave her.  What if something happened while I wasn't there?

The nurses and my family coerced me to return to my room to rest.  After some pleading, I eventually complied.

I was given medicine to decrease the fever and help me rest after such an emotionally draining day.

I slept for only a few hours before I was awakened again.

This story is so precious to me.  It has to be told.  Although, it has taken me years to write, I'm thankful I'm brave enough now to share.  Thank you for joining with me.  Feel free to comment below.

This is Day 12 of a 31 day series of “Hope Against Hope”. To read all of the posts in this series, click here. To read what several other bloggers are writing for the month of October, click here

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