Mixed memories.

One year ago today, at roughly this hour, I was experiencing what I hadn't yet learned were contractions. I was 25 weeks and 5 days pregnant. We had had a busy week, it was fair to assume that my back was just sore and there wasn't anything to worry about.

The last picture of Max on the inside - 25 weeks

We had spent the previous week feverishly packing to move into our new apartment that we were approved for only days before the move in date. We spent all weekend finishing up our packing and all day Monday moving. On Tuesday I walked at my graduation with my B.Ed. On Wednesday we spent the morning cleaning our old apartment and I spent the afternoon at work. I went home feeling tired, but not out of the ordinary. I tried to soak away my sore back in the bath to no avail. Rafael was due to work until 1 am that night, but ended up getting off several hours early. Once I was curled in a ball on the couch we decided to call Health Links and talk to a nurse to see if there was any cause for concern. I really didn't want to be the paranoid pregnant lady showing up at the ER with braxton hicks. The nurse on the phone told us to get to the hospital so I could get checked out. I very sincerely expected to be home a few hours later and just told to take it easy for a few days. When I was told I was in pre-term labour, I was in shock. The sudden flurry of activity around me was overwhelming. People came and did their tests, gave medications, ordered ultrasounds, and came and told us just what to expect with a baby born at this gestation. It was a lot to take in. We were both shell shocked.

When the tests came back that told us that our baby would be born sometime in the next 2 weeks the gravity of the situation really took hold. Roughly 28 hours after I was admitted, Maximilian was born via emergency c-section at 2:46 am, just barely making it to 26 weeks gestation. He let out the tiniest squeak that broke the silence in the room. The team of doctors and nurses spent 15 minutes resuscitating him. We both held our breath until, what must have been an hour later when we were given an update and told that our baby was both stable, and a boy. We had no idea what the next 6 months held in store.

It's difficult for one day to be both the best and worst day of your life. I suddenly felt powerless to protect the one person that I was meant to keep safe. I felt like my body had failed me and him. I felt pretty short changed by the whole pregnancy and birth experience. I had looked forward to pregnancy for some time and I loved being pregnant. I cried many, "it's not fair" tears and mourned for the experience I had expected to have. I spent too much time playing the "what if" game - what if I hadn't worked so hard that week, what if I went to the hospital sooner, what if I could have held out long enough to get the second dose of steroids, what if I could have done something different. We were never given a reason for my pre-term labour, so I'll likely never have those answers.

I still have a lot of mixed feelings about what was meant to be the happiest day of my life. I still daydream about what it might have been like to have a 'normal' birth experience, to be filled with excitement and awe at seeing my baby for the first time, holding him to my chest, crying tears of joy and happiness. I've mostly come to terms with Max's birth story and instead choose to focus on the amazing triumph of the human spirit that is his life story. This year has been, without a doubt, the most eventful, roller coaster ride of my life. I'd definitely never choose to do it again, but the experience has shaped us as a family and I'm immensely proud of all we've been through together.

One day we'll have a heckuva story to tell Max.