Almost as if destined to destroy my life, I found out I was pregnant at 16 weeks, 13 weeks after deciding to address my health, since just 1 month prior, started a new job – life finally looking up after over 7 years of a slump. I found out I had chronic hypertension, an enlarged heart and a condition which prevented my blood from clotting as it should – thrombocytopenia. Although a lot shaken by the diagnosis, even though it wasn’t a surprise as I’ve not actually been in a good place in 7 years spiritually or emotionally. The last 7 years being a conundrum of managed emotions and self loathing for all the dumb things I did to get over that first dumb thing I did.. only to find myself in an even dumber situation. Depressed, hanging from a thread of other people’s expectation of me. Having a baby is the single absolute worst thing I could ever do right now.
Physically…the complications of hypertension, heart and blood issues, carrying a baby to term with no complications is next to impossible. Termination at 4 months was not recommended, whether by virtue of my doctors morals or professional experience. Termination was not recommended and would be downright illegal and dangerous with existing on less that 20% platelet count. Preeclampsia started setting in while I fought to focus on my job and my life, fully aware all the time that I was imprinting on this child…a boy child. My dream child, when it was a joke, an impossibility, dreaming of the boy I knew I could never have.. his name, Zyon.
Way back then as Lauren Hill cooed the song ‘Zion’, supposedly dedicated to her first son, I could feel the strength, love, sacrifice and fulfillment of loving a child, another human being, without anxiety. I decided with tears often streaming down my face that the love between parent and child, must be the most powerful love. But not now…I could not love two children, a girl came, and even though I always dreamt of a boy, and in spite of how she came into my life, she was my real life angel…sent to give me reprieve.
Cry I as did, self flagilate with all of my might, I was already growing a seed inside me. My body apparently oblivious, almost in blatant denial of what I wanted, my circumstances or what i was told was physically impossible.
A new job, renewed focus and the tender everything love between mother and daughter, I was in a really ok space for the first time in 7 years. A baby would push me way back…all the way back. As a matter of fact, I could slip fall n break my back, end up in a coma and literally and die. A baby was the last thing I needed, but like a runaway train it was already at me…full speed. I decided to stop crying and accept him…sheepishly excited that I’ll have my boy…my dream boy…Zyon and indeed it was a crazy circumstance, indeed almost everyone wanted me to abort him and had it not been too late or not held the risk it did, I would’ve. A baby truly wasn’t what I wanted.
In less than I month after finally accepting my pregnancy and allowing myself to become excited by the possible fulfillment of my impossible dream, a son. I began experiencing severe preeclampsia, with hospitalization, dexamethasone and sulphur shots to prepare for premature delivery.
To say the least my entire core was shook, I’d look into my daughter’s beautiful caring eyes and wonder if I’d live to see her next birthday. That possibility became impossible when realized I needed to be around to experience her, My angel. At that point I made up my mind to do this…like the soldier I am. Then I remembered…I am a soldier, despite my huge injury 7 years ago and the subsequent dumbness to replace the numbness, I was still a soldier.
My wild nature, lofty exotic dreams and expectations…such as having a son called Zyon and ending up at first with an angel called Madison…is still here. I am amazed at his strength and determination, born under severe preeclamptic conditions 6 weeks early weighing a little over 3lbs, he pulled up at my bed couple hours after being born as if to say ‘Hey…get yo ass up…I’m ready…let’s go…mommy’.
Madison at over 8lbs and full term spent 7 days in ICU, and Mr. 3lb 34 weeks is ready to go immediately. I still wasn’t ready…I’m was in pain…blurry, dizzy…in pain…high blood pressure and no pain meds for a week while still having to care for him in the hospital. I had to…so I remembered. I am a soldier and I loved lofty dreams worth chasing breathless.. I remember.