Stella.....the newest little peanut.
4-3-13* 5lbs 12oz*19 inches
Expected she wasn’t but accepted is an understatement.
I wasn’t even sure I would have kids…ever. But when I found
out last July that I was expecting I was completely calm about the whole thing.
The lists started compiling in my head of everything that would need to be done
in the following 9 months.
My pregnancy was easy but that didn’t stop me from
complaining every day. I wasn’t one of those people that loved being pregnant.
In fact, I told multiple people don’t ever let me do this again.
So the months went by, the lists got hammered out and it was
almost time.
I decided to stop working 2 weeks before my due date to get
some rest, finish up a few things at home and EAT! My last day of work I left
knowing that everything would be handled while I was gone. I didn’t leave any
loose ends and wouldn’t have anything worrying me late at night. I went to
sleep that night looking forward to the cheeseburger and shake I was going to
have the next day and the movie I was going to see that day after that. And
then…wait, was that a contraction?
Awww shit. Really? Yes. I went into labor within hours of the
start of the last stretch of me time I would have for the next ummmm 10 years?!
After being home for about 6 hours with contractions we made
way to the hospital. I thought I was going to die there for a second until the epidural.
Ahhhhh. Don’t worry, I’ll just lie here for a while. Actually, I did. I opted
to wait for my doctor to take lunch so she could come over and deliver my baby
(how nice of her). I had a real problem with that you build a relationship with
this person over 8 months and then you just have whoever’s on shift at the time
deliver your baby. That doesn’t make sense to me.
So, push push and then a little cry. They placed her on my
chest all blue and screaming. I just kept saying “she’s so pretty!”. Everything
else was standard, Jeremy cut the cord, and they took her over and cleaned her
up. I was getting stitched up and overheard one of the nurses (Not a nurse that
had been around before. Those nurses were great!) talking about Stella. “Her
face is round, her ears are low, see this line on her hand. I think we should
have her tested for down syndrome”. What?!?! I sat up so fast. After that it was a whirlwind of doctors
coming in and out. Everyone had their own opinion but the bottom line was we
would just have to wait to see what the tests said.
Looking at my baby I could see what they were talking about
but I had the genetic tests and passed. It couldn’t be possible, could it? I
was upset that this could be my world and I did everything I was supposed
to-how could this happen? I was even more upset that this asshole of a nurse
did what she did and took the first magical moments with my first baby and
turned into a time for tears.
The tears didn’t last long as the excitement of being new
parents took over. Stella didn’t have any initial health issues and we were
able to go home after 2 days. Bye-Bye
nurses, you were great. Thanks for all the ice water and cherry Jell-O.
After we got home I dug out a picture of me when I was a
couple day’s old. Phew. Stella doesn’t have down’s she just looks like me.
The initial high of being a parent is great. Who needs
sleep? I/We can do it all. Those were a great first couple of days until you
crash. I was so thankful to my parents who were around to help all the time.
After about 4 days we got the call. Stella did test positive
for Trisomy 21. Trisomy 21, also known as down syndrome is a congenital disorder caused
by having an extra 21st chromosome. There is nothing we could have done
differently to change her diagnosis. Our little girl was going to be different
and there was going to be challenges for the rest of her life that we would
have to overcome.
