Today marks 1 year since the event that would determine the rest of your life occured.
This time last year....TODAY, last year, I was 32 weeks pregnant with you. And my placenta....YOUR placenta, the lifeline between your body and mine, began to tear away from my insides, which caused bleeding that alerted me to something being wrong. They called it a placental abruption. And it was potentially life threatening to both you AND me.
35 weeks. They told me I needed to make it to 35 weeks. 35 weeks and you would likely go home when I went home. They gave me shots in my hips that hurt so bad I literally cried out in pain, to help your little lungs mature, in case the medicines they were pumping into me didn't stop the labor, OR in case the abruption that had begun worsened and they had to rush me to the OR to deliver you at any minute. I was literally a ticking time bomb.
Everyday was ultrasounds and non stress tests and endless fetal and contraction monitoring. I had to stay in bed, except for the amount of time it took me to take a quick shower or use the bathroom. I watched TV. I browsed the internet. I read books and magazines. I laid and just looked out the window. I cried. I prayed.
I prayed that you would make it to 35 weeks.
Because if you made it to 35 weeks, you would be fine. I managed to keep you in to 37 weeks.
And one year later, you are now 4 days away from having yet another major surgery as a result of that day one year ago. The abruption robbed your little body of oxygen, and it protected your core...your heart/brain/lungs...which robbed your developing intestines of oxygen and damaged them. You were a ticking time bomb when you were born. Once food coursed through your body and hit those damaged intestines, the bacteria just fed on it and your body was literally eating itself.
I managed to keep you in past 35 weeks. You were supposed to be ok.
I am so, so sorry Riley.