The shock of the news that you are going to deliver today, and this baby will be premature, first makes you experience a huge feeling of fear, an affliction that invades our lives and at the same time a sudden of hope and happiness that needs to be fed because it was born alive, and every new day this victory needs to be thanked.
The first pregnancy was high risk, but it was possible to wait for the nine months of pregnancy. Five years after my first pregnancy, even though I was taking medication, I was terrified when I realized: I'm pregnant again.
Everything lived through the experience and memories of the first pregnancy came to light, and even more difficult.
I was a pregnant woman with high blood pressure, with constant symptoms of preeclampsia, a disease little recognized for 22 years.
The swelling all over my body due to fluid retention made me pregnant without the sweet memories of photographs, something I love so much.
And reaching almost the sixth month, it was suddenly necessary to take the baby out, she was already hospitalized for observation, at the time of the ultrasound, which was always done in the morning to monitor the development and situation that the baby was in, it was announced: prepare the mother for the I give birth…I still asked: Dr. Guaracy leaves this delivery for tomorrow, which is my mother's birthday!. A grandchild would be a gift. He looked coldly and replied: tomorrow I don't even know if you'll wake up alive, imagine the baby… it was desperate.
“How wonderful it would be if this were the only rule: the best “time” to be born is baby time!” But it's not like that!
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My little warrior has faced challenges since that one, hospitalized the entire time, injected with medication to make his vital organs mature: lungs, heart, and still have the strength to acquire natural defenses on his own with the outside world that arrived before his time, in addition to jaundice, low weight, breathing problems…
The suffering of having him at a distance, loving him without touching him daily, not feeling the touch of his heart.
I was privileged to at least stay in the hospital, I was also at risk postpartum. There were more than thirty days of affliction.
When the time came to go home, the routine difficulties of expressing milk in a machine and breastfeeding with a cup so as not to strain the lungs, the bottle would be practical, but it would keep him from sucking the breast, and still waiting for it to be so fragile, fed in such a complicated way, still gaining weight, weight loss and weight gain are baby oscillations, imagine for a preterm, low weight baby who can't lose a gram? That was one of the biggest despairs…continue and will be for all of them…but every day I was very grateful because my baby faced everything as overcoming in the fight to survive.
Being a mother of a premature baby is trusting God that everything will be all right and also being a warrior, persevering, being stronger than any mother, because her child was taken from her womb before her time and only the Creator has an explanation.
And so are premature babies, winners of the first battles on this journey called LIFE!
And today I write with joy, that despite his prematurity, the development was totally normal, much more than expected, he is a healthy, intelligent young man, for our gratitude.
(my premature baby JoĂŁo Paulo was born on 05/08/1997 with 1.450 g.)
