Shoulda, coulda, woulda.. I suppose.
We had a plan all worked out. I hadn't but was going to schedule my c-section for August 18th. That was Tim's sister's (Susan) anniversary and she had lost her husband the year before. We thought that would make August 18th happy for her again. I had already bought the dress I was bringing Abby home in. I was knitting her baby blanket. I was so excited about having my little girl. I was making plans and enjoying my pregnancy. And then I got sick. I remember thinking that it was happening again. I remember worrying about Nate and what he was going to do without Mommy. I worried about our bills. Tim was laid off, I was the only one bringing in a paycheck. I couldn't get sick again. It couldn't happen. But it dead and although it didn't last as long as it did with Nate, it hit me stronger than with Nate and nothing was stopping it. I remember the technicians looking at the ultrasound and saying, she weighs 1lb. 14 oz. we gotta try to keep her in one more day. I knew they were right, but I was dying. I felt it. Little by little I felt myself leaving the world. Each day was easier and harder at the same time. Easier to let go and harder to stay. Until the cocktail that made all my problems go away, yet could start new problems. I went home on TPN and a pic line. I was to have a nurse come to my house each day for blood work and to maintain my pic line. I never used that nurse. I came home for 2 days just to go back and hear that they've tried everything in the aresanol and they needed us to make a decision.
And out came a beautiful 2lb 10.25oz, 15 in. baby girl named Abigail Faith. She was the smallest most cutest baby ever and I loved her from the get go, although I tried to keep myself from getting too attached. I am completely attached now. I hold her tight and spoil her rotten. She's the sweetest thing ever and I love her very much. Happy Birthday Shortcake