Can I join the Dead Faggots Society too?
Apr. 21st, 2004 01:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jule1122So I'm turning 30 tomorrow. Unlike Brian and Michael, I don't really have any issues with being 30. Well except, I want more children and I always swore I'd be done having kids by the time I was 30. Damn the gods of infertility. But otherwise I don't mind getting older. I am, however, a bit freaked out about my birthday. Last year some very horrible things happened and were set in motion. Everything eventually worked out OK, but I can't help dwelling on how I felt then.
Last year I had an Dr. appointment on my birthday. I was 24 weeks pregnant at the time. I was seeing a high risk specialist and had been having some problems so I wasn't expecting a perfect visit. The plan was to see what had changed and make a treatment decision. We knew by this point the babies would be a bit premature, but that's not unusual for twins (emphasis on a bit premature). I was expecting bed rest, maybe a minor surgical procedure. We were not prepared for the doctor to tell me he was admitting me immediately and I was not going home until the babies were born. My poor Dr., who I adore and know saved my babies' lives, is trying to calm us down while my husband and I stare at him crying and he has to tell us we are hoping to get to 28 weeks.
It gets worse from there. Within 15 minutes I'm hooked up to IV's, catheters, and being asked questions about epidurals and circumcision. I was already in shock and the drugs they gave me made me loopy. Then since I was admitted to Labor & Delivery, they had to send the neonatologist in to tell me all the horrible things that would happen if the babies were born that night. I just wanted to scream at him "I'n NOT having the babies tonight." It was a formality, but enough to plant a seed of doubt. I still have the gift certificates my mother-in-law and brother-in-law gave me to a maternity shop. I never used them.
The next month was hell, and I didn't make it to 28 weeks. I was 4 days shy which meant my boys were 13 weeks premature. It was 9 more weeks before they came home. In the world of prematurity, we were extremely lucky. They had no major complications, but everything feels major when it's your child. I won't even get into the guilt.
This year I get to celebrate my birthday with two beautiful, healthy boys that I am madly in love with. But I'm not looking forward to all the memories that will come with the next 3 months. There will be a lot of days I'll be thinking about what was happening last year on this day. And it will be a while before those memories are good.
Last year I had an Dr. appointment on my birthday. I was 24 weeks pregnant at the time. I was seeing a high risk specialist and had been having some problems so I wasn't expecting a perfect visit. The plan was to see what had changed and make a treatment decision. We knew by this point the babies would be a bit premature, but that's not unusual for twins (emphasis on a bit premature). I was expecting bed rest, maybe a minor surgical procedure. We were not prepared for the doctor to tell me he was admitting me immediately and I was not going home until the babies were born. My poor Dr., who I adore and know saved my babies' lives, is trying to calm us down while my husband and I stare at him crying and he has to tell us we are hoping to get to 28 weeks.
It gets worse from there. Within 15 minutes I'm hooked up to IV's, catheters, and being asked questions about epidurals and circumcision. I was already in shock and the drugs they gave me made me loopy. Then since I was admitted to Labor & Delivery, they had to send the neonatologist in to tell me all the horrible things that would happen if the babies were born that night. I just wanted to scream at him "I'n NOT having the babies tonight." It was a formality, but enough to plant a seed of doubt. I still have the gift certificates my mother-in-law and brother-in-law gave me to a maternity shop. I never used them.
The next month was hell, and I didn't make it to 28 weeks. I was 4 days shy which meant my boys were 13 weeks premature. It was 9 more weeks before they came home. In the world of prematurity, we were extremely lucky. They had no major complications, but everything feels major when it's your child. I won't even get into the guilt.
This year I get to celebrate my birthday with two beautiful, healthy boys that I am madly in love with. But I'm not looking forward to all the memories that will come with the next 3 months. There will be a lot of days I'll be thinking about what was happening last year on this day. And it will be a while before those memories are good.
