Being a parent is a tough and ever rewarding job, which no parent will ever get the credit they deserve for. But, some of it we take for granted..I know I did. I have a healthy 4 year old that I carried to full term. She came home with me a couple days after her typical birth and she lived a relaxed childhood without question. That was my reality for 4 years before my son.
I would have never guessed that after one successful pregnancy that something so critical could all of a sudden not function as it had before… and, because of that I would spend the first weeks of my son’s life sitting in a wheelchair next to his NICU bed. The months after his NICU stay were spent watching him being scrutinized by specialists with testing and blood draws. My husband and I would wait anxiously for every result, and for the next steps. Medication is his normal life... None of us have slept in one day in the morning past 5am, and no night ends prior to 10pm. I know things could have ended monumentally worse. I know parents have went through so much more- please know I would never claim to have it the worst. But, it hurts to know he will not have the experience that other typical children do.. Someone will always be watching him. We will always be watching him.
I experience all my sadness at once. It becomes this giant weight upon my heart, and I just feel it as raw as it comes. It’s a very heavy weight of regret, confusion, and anger for an apology that I will never feel relieved giving.
I felt this way this morning as I looked down at my beautiful boy asleep in my arms. I felt the weight of his epilepsy diagnosis, and the cause, which was told to me was his traumatic birth. Grappling with this understanding that at his most vulnerable my body failed him, is hard (to put it simply). I am picking apart each moment. I’m yelling and screaming inside that I should have known something wasn’t right… In hindsight I think I might of. But, could I have known really? This is the painful part. The part where one day I will tell my son that what is going on in his brain was my fault, and I’m not sure if I could have prevented it or even understand it for that matter. But, I’ll admit that I’ve thought about it daily. I know it will still pain me then.
I went through multiple tests as they scrutinized my organs and my placenta to come up empty. They looked at my genetic risk factors and have reported nothing is significant...I am healthy and as expected. My uterine rupture was an anomaly. An anomaly, which has caused me to replay the day of my son’s birth over and over; wishing and hoping for a cause that I could bring to him. I should be happy to know I’m healthy; the rupture could have killed us both, but instead of celebrating, I’m hurting. I know the “I don’t know” will be just as unsatisfying for us both.
So as I sit here with him, I apologize in my thoughts and vow to do everything in my power to make sure his childhood and life are filled with as much love, happiness, and fun as any other child. But, I will keep my sadness for the quiet times, because he needs my strength not my weakness. He needs me to show him that I know he’s strong and capable of conquering every obstacle.. And that is the Mom I promise to be.

