Happy Birthday Alex!

It’s hard to believe that a year has already come and gone since your arrival. The first half of the year was the hardest portion for me. I’m not saying that it’s easy now, because it isn’t. I truly don’t believe that the emptiness I feel in my heart will ever go away. It might not be as dominant in the years to come, but it’ll still be there. Every day that comes, I’m reminded of this journey.

Life goes on for many around me – to them, it’s just another day. But to me, it’s the day my heart started to break. When I was pregnant with you, I had you close to my heart. I savored every movement you made and every time I had the opportunity to listen to your heartbeat. And the day you were born, I wasn’t ready to let go because I knew that I wouldn’t have the opportunity to feel you next to me for much longer.

Your parents came down on December 6th to Winona to be here for your arrival. We had supper together and talked about how we wanted things to go for when you were born. That night, I went home and tried to figure out why I was put in this situation. Why I was the one who had to sacrifice so much and risk losing a part of myself. I keep telling myself that I had no other choice. I had to think about the kids I had with me. And I knew, no matter how much I love you, that adding another child to the mix wouldn’t be the best option; especially if I wanted you and them to have a happy life. A life to where you aren’t left wanting and your needs are always met.

The morning of your birth, I woke up at 4 am. I tried to sleep as long as I could because I knew it wasn’t going to be an easy day – physically or emotionally. We arrived at the hospital at 6 am and registered. Your parents, my mom and her boyfriend, and my grandma were all there being my rocks. I got into my room to get dressed into the gown and I then went to lay in my bed. I waited for the nurse to come in and do her magic with the vital signs and IV. I don’t do well with needles, but I sucked it up and dealt with it.

For the next hour or so, we all sat in my room and talked. I rubbed my stomach and started to cry to myself because I wasn’t ready to let go. My grandma came over to hug me and tell me that she loves me more than anything. Of course that made me cry even more. I tried to show them that I was strong and that I can get through anything, but unfortunately that façade didn’t last for long.

At around 7:30-8:00 am, they came to wheel me down to the pre-op room. This is where it got even harder for me because I knew I was only one step away from you no longer being under my heart, a place you have been for 9 months. Again, your parents and I sat and talked. They are amazing people and the more I talked to them the more I knew you would be in great hands. I tried to keep my composure, but it was so hard when I had almost every nurse in that hospital coming to the pre-op room to hug me and tell me that I’m an amazing person. I didn’t believe them because if I was, I wouldn’t be giving up a part of me to someone else.

At 8:45 am, I was wheeled to the operating room. I just laid there as they did what they needed to do. The anesthesiologist had me sit up on the bed so they could administer the spinal. She stood in front of me and she saw the tears falling. She gave me a hug and asked me what was wrong. I blurted out “I’m not ready to let go. I don’t want to let go.” They let me have my little break down before they did it. I wiped away my tears and let them do what they needed to do. They helped me lay back down on the table. After they knew I was ready, they let your parents come in and sit next to me.

I forced myself to sleep through most of the procedure because I wanted your parents to experience as much of your birth as they possibly could. I woke right up when I heard your beautiful cry as they pulled you out of me. They brought you over to the warmer to clean you up some and brought you over so I could see you. You were such a beautiful sight. I whispered “I love you” to you and turned away and cried to myself as your parents were overcome with happiness.

You and your parents were both brought up to the nursery together as the doctor finished doing what he needed to do with me. After all that was said and done, I was wheeled to the post-op room where I spent most of the time sleeping and asking for more blankets because I was cold. My mom came down to talk to me and gave me a hug and told me she was so proud of me and she loves me. That’s something I don’t hear very often from my mom.

A few hours later, I was able to be wheeled to the room that I would stay in for most of my time there. A part of me wanted to be away from the nursery because I didn’t want to hear babies cry. But the more I thought about it, if I was in another part of the hospital, I wouldn’t be able to see you. And I wanted to spend as much time with you as I possibly could before I had to say goodbye.

We were only supposed to be in there until Sunday, but I unfortunately got too sick for them to send me home. I was willing to discharge you to your parents so you three can go home and start the bonding process. But your parents didn’t want that to happen because they wanted me to be able to go home as well. They were willing to stay as long as I stayed in the hospital. In some ways, it was great because I was able to spend more time with you. But in other ways, it made it harder for me to let you go when the day came for us to go our separate ways.

I let your parents do most of the feedings and diaper changes. Every so often I would take the chance to feed you. Every feeding I had, I just sat there and watched you sleep and eat at the same time. There would be times to where I had breakdowns during, so when that happened I handed you over to another person. Its not that I wanted to, it’s because I had to. I knew the longer I had with you, the closer I was going to get to you. And if that happened, the more likely it would have been for me to decide that I wasn’t going to give you up. And I knew your parents had been through enough heartache over the years, I didn’t want to be another reason for it.

You are too young to understand the reason for my choice. And I have every intention to answer all questions you may have for when you are older. I just hope that when that day comes, you will understand that I didn’t make this choice because I didn’t love you. I made it because I love you enough to give you a chance to a life that you deserve.