Monday, November 17, 2008

She's 5 Now

She turned 5 on Veteran's Day November 11th, a day I'm happy that she shares with the many in uniform who served and sacrificed for a better world for her to be born in before she was ever born, and for those future veterans who are serving and sacrificing for all.

She's always been a mover and a shaker even before birth. I felt her wiggles at 9 weeks, and being my 2nd pregnancy I was sure of, but amazed/skeptical I felt so early, until she grew more. As those baby wiggles grew stronger I began to know the baby inside me better, and I knew I had felt her at 9 weeks. By 14 weeks she was thoroughly enjoying her boundless freedom. As the pregnancy progressed, and her boundless freedom was becoming more and more threatened she fought for room. My bump seemed to always be a moving, contorted bump more than just a bump.

She did not like to be "monitored" when Dr's or nurses strapped the belts around her when she was the bump of my tummy. She had to have her freedom as much as possible, and with the added restraint of the belts she was determined to fight fiercely for what little freedom she had left.

I kept a miserable cold from the 5th month until birth at one time being hospitalized I was so sick. Each day the pregnancy progressed the worse my misery became. Antibiotics or any medications or breathing treatments did little to quell my misery. I cried. I coughed. I couldn't breathe. I threw up. She never stopped moving. I was desperate for RELIEF. I call my ob crying, went to the ER. I went to my OB. I went to my MD. I went to the ER again, and was admitted. My sweet ob I heard out in the hallway ask "Where's my girl?" He came in,
and I begged him to get this baby out of me, because everyone seemed to think that whatever this cold was was not to go away until after she was "free." He checked my cervix, which with none of my pregnancies every cooperates until the end of time. So, here I am very pregnant, with a mover and a shaker fighting for her freedom, can't breathe, sore, tired of coughing, just tired, lying on my head to be prepared for lasix treatment, and subsequent breathing treatments, which helped very little. I just resigned myself to my fate. Cameron did not. I think all of that was her way of demanding her freedom!

2 weeks later we barely made it to the hospital before she won her battle for her freedom. She let me have the best rest I had had in months, and then she snuck up on me without me knowing. When she did let me know it was flurry of activity there-after, and then her sweet little calm self was lying in my arms, looking at me contently because she was free.

Not much has changed.

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