No one told me pregnancy could kill me

No one told me pregnancy could kill me. At least, if they did, I wasn’t listening.

I always knew I wanted to have kids.

That being said, by the time I did get pregnant, I was not excited. Terror flooded me. I cried and cried and cried. It’s one thing to imagine being a parent and another thing to make it a reality.

After the initial shock I just kinda felt…

Nothing.

I was neither excited nor displeased.

Even when I heard his heartbeat for the first time it meant little to me. Same with the second time and the third and so on. I mean, I was happy he was alive, of course. Otherwise, it would have been kind of a hassle.

I had zero connection with the supposed miracle I was growing.

In fact, I was so disconnected that I hardly prepared anything for him.

If I had clothes or diapers or even a crib it was because someone else gave it to me and I had to store it.

I figured I’d just wing it.

I was soon on the cusp of labor.

So far, everything had gone smoothly.

No, it wasn’t like those ads where the hot, pregnant woman has her hands placed over her belly in the shape of a heart as she smiles warmly at the prospect of the perfect child that will magically appear clean and precious in her arms with no effort.

But I had little complaints.

Until the night the little destroyer decided to make me feel something.

That something was death.

But I didn’t know I was dying.

I just thought my stomach was trying to push its way out of my body via my spine.

I went to the hospital in mild to very not mild pain.

I was admitted then doped up.

Then I felt great!

Everyone around me was pale and rubbing my arm.

They held expressions of It’s so sad her husband will be a single father so young.

I understood that I was technically in a bad situation but I felt so chill that it was hard to get on board.

They said I would live as long as I got the baby out of me as soon as possible. But labor wasn’t happening fast enough.

They would need to cut him out.

What?

But first, they needed to give me a blood transfusion.

Wait, what happened?

Unfortunately, there was no blood on hand. They would order it from the hospital across town and have it in an hour.

That seems like kind of a long time.

We will try to get it sooner.

Or I die right here?

Luckily, the blood came in much faster! I now had everything I needed to die on the operating table.

I was awake during the cesarean.

It was unpleasant.

The little murderer was taken away and my husband was sent to look after it.

They left me alone to be stitched up and stapled, yes, literally stapled, closed.

After that, I was hooked to my bed via a catheter.

My baby was wheeled in.

Unlike a baby food commercial, I didn’t really care. I was on some more drugs and the baby didn’t seem real or that it was even mine.

I just thought, Oh neat, a baby.

Sometime between midnight and 3am, someone came in. They explained that the baby wasn’t eating and needed to go into the NICU.

I was like, Oh, okay, sure.

Then I went back to sleep. (But not really because who can even sleep in a hospital bed? Especially when you are awoken every hour by a tech who tries to get normal answers out of you at all hours of the night just after you had been sawed into. “Hey, sorry, I just need to test a couple things. How are you feeling?” What? “Are you in any pain?” Who are you? “Okay, I’ll be back later.”)

The sun eventually came up. I was stuck to my bed. My husband was back and forth between me and our son.

It was clear he loved our son very much.

I was so happy for him.

I still hadn’t really met the kid but I was sure he was cool.

Finally, they cut me loose.

My husband was excited to take me to meet the little explosion.

I hadn’t been out of bed for a few days so I was down for it.

He wheeled me down the hall and into a little hand washing area. We scrubbed our hands raw with soap that, to this day, makes my stomach churn.

We approached the baby’s little room and the nurse helped us unclamp him from his feeding tubes and someone pushed him into my arms.

I looked down at his shockingly itty-bitty face.

I realized that he was more than cool.

He was the best human that existed in any lifetime!

He was him and I didn’t even know who him was but he was, and I loved him.

He was worth loving for no reason; just because.

He could have tried to kill me and I would still love him.