I remember lying in the lumpy hospital bed. I had 2 monitors on my belly that hadn’t moved in more than a week and a half.
My arms were purple with bruises from the numerous IV sticks.
The continuous magnesium drip made my face feel like I was on fire but my body felt like I was submerged in the Arctic Ocean.
My body was done with this pregnancy as soon as it had begun.
I felt like I had crawled to this point of the pregnancy with a 747 tied to my back.
We were hoping I’d make it to Sunday.
That was our goal. 25 weeks.
But I was exhausted. Emotionally, physically. I was just so tired of all of the medications, the treatments, the fear that any second my son would be born and I’d have to watch him slip away from me because he was born too soon.
I had amazing friends and family both near and far who were supporting us.